Friday, 1 May 2009

Discovering moments of consolation


Carol Ann Duffy

Carol Ann Duffy was born on 23 December 1955 to Frank Duffy and May Black in Glasgow as the eldest child of the family, and has four brothers. She moved to Staffordshire at the age of four.

Her father worked as a fitter for English Electric, stood as a parliamentary candidate for the Labour Party and managed Stafford Rangers football club in his spare time. Raised a Roman Catholic, she was educated at Saint Austin Roman Catholic Primary School,St. Joseph's Convent School and Stafford Girls' High School - where her literary talent was encouraged by English master J.A. Walker. She was a passionate reader from an early age, and she always wanted to be a writer.

Duffy's poems provide voices for an extraordinary number of contemporary characters, including a fairground psychopath, a literary biographer, a newborn baby, disinherited American Indians, and even a ventriloquist's dummy.

Many of the poems reflect on time, change, and loss. In dramatizing scenes of childhood, adolescence, and adult life, whether personal or public, contemporary or historical, she discovers moments of consolation through love, memory, and language. She explores not only everyday experience, but also the rich fantasy life of herself and others.

Of her own writing, Duffy has said,"I'm not interested, as a poet, in words like 'plash' - Seamus Heaney words, interesting words. I like to use simple words but in a complicated way Singer-composer Eliana Tomkins, whom Duffy collaborated with on a series of live jazz recitals, says "With a lot of artists, the mystique is to baffle their readership. She never does that. Her aim is to communicate."

In her first collection Standing Female Nude (1985) she often uses the voices of outsiders.

Her next collection Feminine Gospels (2002) continues this vein, showing an increased interest in long narrative poems, accessible in style and often surreal in their imagery. Her 2005 publication, Rapture (2005), is a series of intimate poems charting the course of a love affair, for which she won the £10,000 T.S Eliot poetry prize. In 2007 she published a poetry collection for children entitled The Hat.

Many British students read her work while studying for English Literature at GCSE and A-level, as she became part of the syllabus in England and Wales in 1994.

John Mullan wrote of her in the Guardian that

"Over the past decade, Carol Ann Duffy has been the most popular living poet in Britain, her sales greatly helped by the fact that she has succeeded Hughes and Larkin as the most common representative of contemporary poetry in schools (and, it seems, the most commonly read writer of verse, but there are also aspects of her poetry that appeal to English teachers for good practical reasons. Her poems are frequently humorous; they use clear schemes of rhyme and metre; they can be satisfactorily decoded by the diligent close reader."

According to the journalist Katherine Viner,

"Her poems are accessible and entertaining, yet her form is classical, her technique razor-sharp. She is read by people who don't really read poetry, yet she maintains the respect of her peers. Reviewers praise her touching, sensitive, witty evocations of love, loss, dislocation, nostalgia; fans talk of greeting her at readings 'with claps and cheers that would not sound out of place at a pop concert'".

Duffy was almost appointed the British Poet Laureate in 1999 (after the death of previous Laureate

Ted Hughes but lost out on the position to Andrew Motion. According to the Sunday Times, Downing Street source sources stated unofficially that Prime Minister Tony Blair was 'worried about having a homosexual poet laureate because of how it might play in middle England. Duffy later claimed that she would not have accepted the laureateship anyway, saying in an interview with the Guardian newspaper that 'I will not write a poem for Edward and Sophie.

No self-respecting poet should have to.' She says she regards Andrew Motion as a friend and that the idea of a contest between her and him for the post was entirely invented by the newspapers. "I genuinely don't think she even wanted to be poet laureate," said Peter Jay, Duffy's former publisher. "The post can be a poisoned chalice. It is not a role I would wish on anyone - particularly not someone as forthright and uncompromising as Carol Ann." The Guardian has also stated that Duffy was reluctant to take up the role in 1999 as she was in a lesbian relationship at the time, and had a young daughter, so was reluctant to take up a position which would have put her so prominently in the public eye.

In August 2008, Duffy's poem 'Education for Leisure' was removed from the AQA examination board's GCSE poetry anthology. This followed a complaint from an external examiner relating to references to knife crime in the poem. According to news reports, schools were urged to destroy copies of the unedited anthology, although a statement from AQA denied this. Duffy countered the removal with a poem highlighting violence in other fiction such as Shakespeare's plays, called 'Mrs Schofield's GCSE'.

Duffy was awarded an OBE in 1995, and a CBE in 2002. She now resides in Manchester and is professor of poetry at Manchester Metropolitan University'sWriting School. She succeeded Andrew Motion as Poet Laureate on 1 May 2009 and is the first female and first Scot to hold that position.

Other works

Duffy is also an acclaimed playwright, and has had plays performed at the Liverpool Playhouse and the Almeida Theatre in London. Her plays include Take My Husband (1982), Cavern of Dreams (1984), Little Women, Big Boys (1986) Loss (1986), Casanova (2007). Her radio credits include an adaptation of Rapture.Her children's collections include Meeting Midnight (1999) and The Oldest Girl in the World (2000).

She also collaborated with Manchester composer, Sasha Johnson Manning on The Manchester Carols - a series of Christmas songs that premiered in Manchester Cathedral in 2007

Awards

  • Eric Gregory Award 1984
  • Scottish Arts Council Book Award (for Standing Female Nude and The Other Country, and again for Mean Time)
  • Somerset Maugham Award1988 (for Selling Manhattan)
  • Dylan Thomas Award 1989
  • Cholmondeley Award 1992
  • Whitbread Awards 1993 (for Mean Time)
  • Forward Prize (for Mean Time)
  • T.S.Eliot Prizefor Rapture)
  • Forward Prize (for Rapture)
  • Greenwich Poetry Competition (for Words of Absolution)
  • Nesta Award 2001
  • Lannan Award 1995
  • National Poetry Competition 1st prize, 1983 (for Whoever She Was)
  • Signal Children's Poetry Prize 1999
  • Poet Laureate 2009

“Warming Her Pearls”

for Judith Radstone

Next to my own skin, her pearls. My mistress


bids me wear them, warm them, until evening


when I’ll brush her hair. At six, I place them


round her cool, white throat. All day I think of her,

resting in the Yellow Room, contemplating silk


or taffeta, which gown tonight? She fans herself


whilst I work willingly, my slow heat entering


each pearl. Slack on my neck, her rope.

She´s beautiful. I dream about her


in my attic bed; picture her dancing


with tall men, puzzled by my faint, persistent scent


beneath her French perfume, her milky stones.

I dust her shoulders with a rabbit´s foot,


watch the soft blush seep through her skin


like an indolent sigh. In her looking-glass


my red lips part as though I want to speak.

Full moon. Her carriage brings her home. I see


her every movement in my head ... Undressing,


taking off her jewels, her slim hand reaching


for the case, slipping naked into bed, the way

she always does ... And I lie here awake,


knowing the pearls are cooling even now


in the room where my mistress sleeps. All night


I feel their absence and I burn.


Blending oneiric imagery with everyday life

Anna Piutti

Born and raised in Vicenza, Italy, she is currently a student of Foreign Languages and Literature at the University of Verona. She has been writing free verse poetry in English since 1998. She often adopts a cryptic, highly metaphorical style in which she alternates or blend oneiric imagery with simple aspects of everyday life. She has also translated poetry from French into Italian. She is passionate about literature, art, and music. Her interests also include linguistics, philosophy, medicine, theater arts, cinema and photography.



Some of her poems

Current by Anna Piutti

Fibers,


flesh. Electricity



transudes through a


sigh.



Sun-bordered clouds migrate from


your eyes to my core:



swooshing of curtains, temples


like drums.


Hypnotic pulsations mark lines


between dreams

and life, as


time contracts in us.

And with the last loud blink
of a light bulb,

the shadows withdraw,


and kaleidoscopes convulse.




Clarity


Was I thinking so loudly?

A heart absorbs the absurd


on a regular basis.


Primordial fears and poisoned


skies are

stage smoke;


but fragrant whispers from


your skin are

open windows


on relief.

And I see,


and I laugh:



I


know


nothing.


Anew

Submerged by


liquid stillness,



we mute


the looping theme


of recollection.

Be


blank.


Our mirrored strokes


discard


each tingling residue


of turbulence.



Let go:

these pupils


aren't trapdoors.


For once in this glide,


innocence means


voiceless triumph,

and stainless gazes


trigger shifts


in luminescence.





In the backstage

It is delicately wild


to lip-sync the movement


of a heart --


there, on the other side,


where no floodlights blind.

Only there does breath prelude


waves more powerful than laughter,

as silence shatters thought


into transparency.



Here, where illusion isn’t praised,


no truth, no flaw is concealed


from the discerning eye.



It is here that I stand,


here to stay,

unmasked

before you.




Baptism

Can you feel me?

I’m not the one they used to know.

You’ll find me standing beyond the water wall,


my eyes bearing scars from tainted dreamlands;


my hand reaching out


to touch yours through the icy flow.

May this cold shake me out of my limbo.

Dumbstruck,


misread,


defectively refracted,



I’m now standing behind the water wall,


my heartbeat catching up with me:

may I be redeemed.



Let me feel true light can’t lie, and

time and space will


reconcile

at the confluence of our fingertips.



Noise

Layer after layer,


gloom gurgles through


weary senses.


It spreads like oil, and binds to


every atom


to infect,


to obscure.


I find myself second-guessing


the obvious, retracing my steps


a thousand times, lest syntax


betrays me.



And I struggle to broadcast


vital signs through this static;

and I pray


that my truth won’t be too maimed


when it reaches you.



Blend

Your stare pours sunshine into me


as a long-awaited rush


connects our heres and nows.



I want to be blood


to irrigate your cells,


and feed delusional eternities


through fleeting flesh.



Now feel us shuddering in unison –

I'm bound to you by warmth;


Inside you I'm made whole.


And consciousness hums


so deafeningly;

from pulse


to pulse


it echoes --

red as wake.



Thank you

Tonight's heartbeat


is as joyful as


the intermittent glow


of fireflies:



it plays a frantic game


of hide and seek


with love-filled stares;


it mimics seconds, and



the song of our steps


being poured into


the taste buds


of the earth.



Good luck

You stand in silence,


frozen by the morning's glow.


You won't record those


red-framed paintings made of


sun and glass.

Impermeable, you won't absorb


pure honey from those


amber leaves:


you'll let them flee your tired


stare; you'll hear them rustling like


a butterfly storm headed nowhere but