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Philip Larkin was born in England in 1922 and died in England in 1985.  He lived most of his life in England.

I really like Philip Larkin.  I discovered him by myself.  No one introduced me to his work and he was never covered in any course I took.

Before I bought this volume I hadn’t read a single poem by Philip Larkin.  I was curious about this crazy looking bump-head with the coke-bottle glasses.

He looked so, I don’t know….  Official.  Straight-laced.  Conservative.  His work is anything but.

I read a few poems and got interested in Philip Larkin. I read one of the two novels he published in his twenties – “Jill.”  I found it a very impressive accomplished novel for a guy who was only in his twenties.  I went back to the poetry.

If you didn’t like the use of the word “f**k” and its derivatives in a poem in 1967 Philip Larkin wasn’t for you. He didn’t care. He’d worked as a small town librarian in post-war England.  He was educated at Oxford University.  He worked at Queen’s University, Belfast.  He was a close friend of Kingsley Amis.

“Collected Letters” edited by Anthony Thwaite, published in 1992 by Faber & Faber is a great read. Great biography too by Andrew Motion published by Faber & Faber in 1993.

Janice Rossen wrote a great appreciation of Philip Larkin’s work published by University of Iowa Press in 1989. These are just the books I’ve read. I see there’s a massive new biography of the poet by James Booth, just published by Bloomsbury Press.

I recall one memorable passage from the Andrew Motion bio where Philip Larkin finds himself under the necessity of asserting the rights of authors against some publishing scheme.

Philip Larkin was said to have restored poetry to the British people.  Not sure what anybody meant by that.  He was, during his lifetime, quote, “England’s most beloved poet.”

Others called him a curmudgeon, misogynist and worse.

He edited the Oxford Book of Twentieth Century English Verse.

For years he wrote about jazz.  He published his columns in “All What Jazz”, published by Faber & Faber.

He published “Required Writing”, a collection of his occasional pieces, published by Faber & Faber.

He was Head Librarian at Hull University in England from 1955 until his death.

He never married. There were no kids.  He had a long term relationship with Monica Jones.  They were living together at the time of his death.

“Letters to Monica” was published by Faber & Faber in 2011.

I would say that Philip Larkin was singularly unimpressed with many things.  Many other things made a great impression on him.

His poems have attitude, wit, beauty and form.

I’ll be reading some of Mr Philip Larkin’s poetry for the DPRS (Dead Poets Reading Series http://www.deadpoetslive.com/) downstairs at the VPL (Vancouver Public Library) main branch in the Alice MacKay Room, Sunday January 11, 2015 at 3 pm.  Hope to see you there…

‘When I see a couple of kids…’

It sounds awful but it’s just an observation.  Was an observation because Christmas Creep is already over.  It’s so last month.  But in another sense it’s still here and I’ve been tasked with explaining what I mean, which could be tough.

It’s sitting in a big traffic jam while “The Nutcracker” is serendipitously crackling over the car radio.  It does.  And you feel it.  It’s calming your slightly aggravated nervous system because for a moment or two it’s like a movie.  A kind of interesting movie and you’re in it, trying to get to the next shopping event.  All you want to do and where do all these cars come from?  You’re in one of them.  Christmas is on it’s way.

It’s December 7th but won’t be for long.  You’ve got such a lot to do, to accomplish.  And you wasted the whole afternoon trying to activate a phone.  No is activated, Señora.  Drive around looking for a refund at the local Furor Shop, get it, and more precious time has been lost.  And the phone came from Ontario and you were assured…

It has to work on the network.  You paid for it.  You can’t phone it in.  It’s Christmas.  You have to be there.  The hours pile up and you’re just trying to get through, trying to get through because the days are dwindling down.  If you don’t get those new lights somebody’s gonna die.  No they aren’t.

You just want to get through.  Through to the next round.  And you’re determined it go well as long as nothing, and nobody, tries too hard to impact your efforts.  Watch out.

Everything’ll be all right.  Nana said so.  We’re adults.  We’re human beings.  We’re civilized and most of us use turn signals.  When it doesn’t happen there’s a brief frisson of irritation, which is what a frisson is all about.  It’s a brief thing.

Most definitely.  I remember that expression and I’m trying to remember the era in which it flourished.  Any help, or promotional consideration, cash, charge or debit is, as always, very greatly appreciated.

More to come…

Nice looking building.  Been admiring it for years now as it’s in the neighbourhood and have a clear view of it’s upper exteriors from the upper deck.

Polished pink granite, stainless steel and glass.  And that fine old red and white flag of our fine, fearless nation always on that top pinnacle pole against the sky.  In all kinds of weather it always looks good.

For years I’ve been admiring the building.  And the name.  Trans Mountain.  Trans Mountain.  What a cool name for a building.  Sounds like business and going places.  And they’ve got that big, grassy amenity like a park on the north side with the water feature and the steel gazebo thingy at the northwest corner.  I’m going to have to look that up.

It can be a bit mysterious when something goes right.  I mean in architecture.  Design.  Or in anything.  You see a lot of things and you wonder.  How did it happen?  It’s a disgrace.  But this outcome is good.  I hate that word.  Why don’t people just say this is what happened?

There’s not much info on this building.  It’s triple A.  The only AAA building in the area, whatever that means.  You tell me.  The building is fully leased, but no tenant, or should that be leasee, listed for the eighth floor.  Eight of thirteen floors.

There just isn’t a lot of info about this building, including what’s happening on the eighth floor.  And then you start to think.

Trans Mountain.  Trans Mountain.  Where have I heard that name before?  It’s like it can take years to put something together.  It’s like when you’re climbing and you’re stuck on a ledge at 14,000 feet.  You can be four feet from the tent but if you can’t make it, you can’t make it.

And then you make it.  Trans Mountain.  Trans Mountain building.  Trans Mountain pipeline.  Great Caesar’s ghost, Holmes!  There must be a connection!  Kinder Morgan!

It’s a complicated subject.  Très complicated, all right.  And getting more complicated every day.  Beauty and the Beast.  There’s got to be a line in the sand.  Let’s find it.

Photo courtesy CSN

On a completely unrelated subject I’d like to alert viewers to an event scant weeks away that I’ll be involved in at the Vancouver Public Library, Main Branch, downstairs in the spacious Alice McKay Room.  I’ll be reading poems by Philip Larkin for the Dead Poet’s Reading Series http://www.deadpoetslive.com/ Sunday, January 11, 2015.  3 pm. 

Details on the reading should be up on the site soon.  Great series.  Great readers.  The event is usually four or five readers reading poets of their choice.  Bringing it to the people.  I had the privilege last year of reading poems by Malcolm Lowry for the series.