Sad news. Jay Macpherson,
a poet of eccentric genius, and one of Canada’s greatest writers, has died. Evan Jones and I quickly agreed she was one
of only a handful of poets who definitely had to be included in our 2010
anthology for Carcanet, Modern Canadian Poets.
Born in June 1931 in England, she remained a quasi-reclusive figure for most of her adult life, albeit a
professor at the University of Toronto.
It remains a mystery to me as to why she is not known as one of the last
centuries best poets – her work was as
if Stevie Smith had the academic mind of Northrop Frye. Her style – quirky, mythic, brilliantly lyric
and concise, inspired me when I began writing.
She showed it was possible to write intelligent, elegant, sophisticated
formal poems in Canada.
THAT HANDSOME MAN A PERSONAL BRIEF REVIEW BY TODD SWIFT I could lie and claim Larkin, Yeats , or Dylan Thomas most excited me as a young poet, or even Pound or FT Prince - but the truth be told, it was Thom Gunn I first and most loved when I was young. Precisely, I fell in love with his first two collections, written under a formalist, Elizabethan ( Fulke Greville mainly), Yvor Winters triad of influences - uniquely fused with an interest in homerotica, pop culture ( Brando, Elvis , motorcycles). His best poem 'On The Move' is oddly presented here without the quote that began it usually - Man, you gotta go - which I loved. Gunn was - and remains - so thrilling, to me at least, because so odd. His elegance, poise, and intelligence is all about display, about surface - but the surface of a panther, who ripples with strength beneath the skin. With Gunn, you dressed to have sex. Or so I thought. Because I was queer (I maintain the right to lay claim to that
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