Making It New 1908-1955

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0:00:08 > 0:00:11As Britain entered the 20th century,

0:00:11 > 0:00:14English poetry seemed stuck in a rut.

0:00:14 > 0:00:17Poets wrote about nature, or celebrated

0:00:17 > 0:00:22the glories of empire, in language that was formal and ornate.

0:00:28 > 0:00:33But as old certainties crumbled, new generations seized their chance

0:00:33 > 0:00:38to rewrite the world and build a new kind of poetry from the ruins.

0:00:39 > 0:00:43They found words for the complexity, the upheaval

0:00:43 > 0:00:46and the doubt of the modern age.

0:00:51 > 0:00:54And there was another revolution...

0:00:54 > 0:00:55In the 20th century,

0:00:55 > 0:00:58television brought poets into millions of living rooms.

0:01:01 > 0:01:05As the BBC cameras rolled, poets took the chance to explain

0:01:05 > 0:01:08themselves to a mass audience for the first time.

0:01:15 > 0:01:16In this first programme,

0:01:16 > 0:01:22we'll meet the giants who set out to write for the new century.

0:01:22 > 0:01:23April is the cruellest month

0:01:25 > 0:01:27Breeding lilacs out of the dead land

0:01:28 > 0:01:32Mixing memory and desire...

0:01:32 > 0:01:36From TS Eliot, who dragged poetry into the modern age...

0:01:36 > 0:01:38When he left, respectable...

0:01:38 > 0:01:42..to WH Auden, witness to the chaos of the 1930s...

0:01:42 > 0:01:45The little children died in the streets.

0:01:47 > 0:01:51Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs...

0:01:51 > 0:01:56..to Dylan Thomas, whose lyrical voice held audiences spellbound.

0:01:56 > 0:02:00The night above the dingle starry...

0:02:01 > 0:02:04There were eccentrics, too.

0:02:04 > 0:02:07In my poems, the dead often speak and the ghosts come back.

0:02:08 > 0:02:10National treasures...

0:02:12 > 0:02:15..and political rebels.

0:02:15 > 0:02:18We must get rid of England, somehow or other. Completely.

0:02:19 > 0:02:24Between them, they rewrote the rules of poetry for a new age.

0:02:25 > 0:02:28This is how they did it, in their own words.

0:02:44 > 0:02:47London at the turn of the 20th century.

0:02:47 > 0:02:50While other European cities were in the grip of artistic

0:02:50 > 0:02:55revolutions, British culture remained reassuringly traditional.

0:02:58 > 0:03:02In 1908, a radical young American arrived in London on a mission

0:03:02 > 0:03:06to, in his words, make poetry new.

0:03:06 > 0:03:10Ezra Pound was born in Idaho in 1885.

0:03:10 > 0:03:12As a student, he had resolved to

0:03:12 > 0:03:15"know more about poetry than any man living."

0:03:17 > 0:03:20In London, he planned to start a poetic revolution.

0:03:22 > 0:03:27The poetry of the 1890s, in England in particular, was dominated

0:03:27 > 0:03:33by a rather mournful, nostalgic, kind of pastiche poetry, really.

0:03:33 > 0:03:36A poetry that sort of imitated earlier Victorians,

0:03:36 > 0:03:41imitated the Romantics, and had a sort of decadent feel about it.

0:03:41 > 0:03:43Pound absolutely loathed this.

0:03:43 > 0:03:47He thought British poetry was flabby, it was dull,

0:03:47 > 0:03:49it was repetitive and he kind of put it on a diet.

0:03:49 > 0:03:52Everything had to be spare, every word had to count.

0:03:52 > 0:03:55Sent it to the gym, gave it a face-lift.

0:03:57 > 0:04:00And, you know, he was a great pioneer of modernism.

0:04:03 > 0:04:08In 1913, he wrote a modernist manifesto stating that poets

0:04:08 > 0:04:10should aim for precision with words,

0:04:10 > 0:04:15clear imagery and break free from familiar, traditional rhyme.

0:04:16 > 0:04:19His poems were pared down and precise,

0:04:19 > 0:04:22sometimes only a line or two long.

0:04:23 > 0:04:26But Pound wasn't starting from scratch,

0:04:26 > 0:04:30he was harking back to ancient sources.

0:04:30 > 0:04:33It was Chinese text that perfectly captured

0:04:33 > 0:04:37the precision of language and image that inspired his radicalism.

0:04:37 > 0:04:42Ezra Pound rarely appeared on camera, but in 1959 he was filmed

0:04:42 > 0:04:46for the BBC in Italy, demonstrating the qualities of Chinese writing.

0:04:48 > 0:04:50You have the primitive sun,

0:04:50 > 0:04:54then when they want to make it pretty, they square it up...

0:04:54 > 0:04:56and that's the sun.

0:04:56 > 0:05:02Then for the dawn, you've got the sun over the horizon.

0:05:02 > 0:05:06What was exciting for Pound about Chinese poetry,

0:05:06 > 0:05:11and the Chinese pictograms themselves, was that it seems as

0:05:11 > 0:05:17if the image is just there in just a few beautiful strokes of a brush.

0:05:17 > 0:05:19That's all compressed into one space.

0:05:19 > 0:05:22That is like a reply

0:05:22 > 0:05:25to the great frothing of what they saw as

0:05:25 > 0:05:28the decadent writers of the 1890s.

0:05:30 > 0:05:35Pound's life's work was an epic called The Cantos, a collection of

0:05:35 > 0:05:38poems that ranged through history

0:05:38 > 0:05:40and ancient cultures to the modern day.

0:05:40 > 0:05:43The Cantos remain among the most complex

0:05:43 > 0:05:45and challenging poems of the century.

0:05:49 > 0:05:51The Cantos were a sprawling,

0:05:51 > 0:05:56epic attempt to incorporate nothing less than virtually everything

0:05:56 > 0:06:00that had ever been written in any poetic tradition in the world.

0:06:00 > 0:06:06It was unbelievably ambitious and it was also, as a consequence,

0:06:06 > 0:06:09it was fragmentary, it was elliptical, it was collage.

0:06:09 > 0:06:13It was bits and pieces of a great many traditions,

0:06:13 > 0:06:16in a great many languages and even a great many alphabets.

0:06:20 > 0:06:25Pound read a controversial section of The Cantos for the BBC.

0:06:25 > 0:06:26In the poem,

0:06:26 > 0:06:31he attacks capitalist society for immoral money-lending or usury,

0:06:31 > 0:06:36which Pound calls "usura", an evil for which he blames Jewish bankers.

0:06:38 > 0:06:43With usura hath no man a house of good stone

0:06:43 > 0:06:46Each block cut smooth and well-fitting

0:06:46 > 0:06:49That design might cover their face,

0:06:49 > 0:06:55With usura hath no a man painted paradise on his church wall...

0:06:56 > 0:07:02Pound's ideas about global capitalism were bound up with

0:07:02 > 0:07:05anti-Semitic conspiracy theories in which he believed that

0:07:05 > 0:07:09it was Jewish people who were controlling capital and that it was

0:07:09 > 0:07:13Jewish greed, the stereotype of the Jewish usurer,

0:07:13 > 0:07:14who was the puppeteer.

0:07:16 > 0:07:20With usura the line grows thick

0:07:20 > 0:07:23With usura is no clear demarcation

0:07:23 > 0:07:27And no man can find site for his dwelling

0:07:27 > 0:07:30Stonecutter is kept from his stone

0:07:30 > 0:07:33Weaver is kept from his loom

0:07:33 > 0:07:36With usura wool comes not to market.

0:07:40 > 0:07:43CROWD CHEERS

0:07:43 > 0:07:47In his 30s, Pound's politics grew increasingly extreme.

0:07:47 > 0:07:50He believed fascism was the answer to what

0:07:50 > 0:07:52he saw as failing Western democracy.

0:07:55 > 0:07:58There's a strange idea that if you're modernist,

0:07:58 > 0:08:00you're somehow or other progressive politically,

0:08:00 > 0:08:04and that you're somehow part of a general liberal outlook.

0:08:04 > 0:08:06This isn't the case.

0:08:06 > 0:08:08Plenty of the modernists were quite keen on fascism

0:08:08 > 0:08:11and you can see a relationship,

0:08:11 > 0:08:15if you like, between the language that Pound uses about poetry,

0:08:15 > 0:08:19wanting it to be spare and hard and dry,

0:08:19 > 0:08:24and he wants the images to be powerful and working in themselves,

0:08:24 > 0:08:28and the way in which he and others worshipped Mussolini.

0:08:32 > 0:08:36After the Second World War, Pound was imprisoned for his fascist

0:08:36 > 0:08:39views, deemed anti-American.

0:08:39 > 0:08:42On his release, he returned to Italy.

0:08:43 > 0:08:47I can remember that it was pretty controversial that the BBC went

0:08:47 > 0:08:51and found him, and dug him out and interviewed him.

0:08:51 > 0:08:55Society had cast him out, the poetry world had cast him out,

0:08:55 > 0:08:58and he was this slightly prophet-like

0:08:58 > 0:09:02figure, raging in the wilderness.

0:09:02 > 0:09:06Pound's main importance and his accepted reputation

0:09:06 > 0:09:09is as sort of the midwife of modernism, really.

0:09:09 > 0:09:13And so he's a kind of high priest of early 20th century literature,

0:09:13 > 0:09:15but his own poetry is,

0:09:15 > 0:09:18I think, studied rather than read.

0:09:20 > 0:09:24Ezra Pound had set out to reshape poetry for the 20th century.

0:09:25 > 0:09:27But he had an important ally,

0:09:27 > 0:09:31a protege who would, in time, come to eclipse him.

0:09:33 > 0:09:36In 1914, TS Eliot, another American,

0:09:36 > 0:09:38was drawn to London

0:09:38 > 0:09:41and into Pound's modernist literary circle.

0:09:43 > 0:09:46It's an interesting fact that in the English tradition,

0:09:46 > 0:09:49modernist poetry emerges with two American poets working together,

0:09:49 > 0:09:53Ezra Pound and TS Eliot, both of whom had left America

0:09:53 > 0:09:58and come to Britain and were working together to create something

0:09:58 > 0:10:02that would be innovative and fresh in poetry.

0:10:03 > 0:10:07For Pound and Eliot, the idea of escaping America was something that

0:10:07 > 0:10:12they had to do in order to write in the way that they wanted to.

0:10:12 > 0:10:14Partly because the idea of exile, I think,

0:10:14 > 0:10:17appealed to both of them enormously.

0:10:17 > 0:10:21I don't think they really felt attached to the

0:10:21 > 0:10:23mass culture of America.

0:10:23 > 0:10:27In fact, both of them felt rather ambivalent towards it.

0:10:29 > 0:10:33Thomas Stearns Eliot was born in St Louis in 1888.

0:10:35 > 0:10:38He studied philosophy at Harvard, Paris and then Oxford,

0:10:38 > 0:10:42where his towering intellect set him apart from his peers.

0:10:46 > 0:10:50In London, Eliot spent his days working on foreign accounts for

0:10:50 > 0:10:55Lloyds Bank in the city, and then at publishing house Faber and Faber.

0:10:56 > 0:10:59There, he cultivated a studiedly unpoetic image.

0:11:02 > 0:11:06I think there has always been an idea that poets must be anarchic

0:11:06 > 0:11:08and dress in a flamboyant fashion,

0:11:08 > 0:11:11as, for instance, Ezra Pound did.

0:11:11 > 0:11:13Along comes TS Eliot. He wears a suit,

0:11:13 > 0:11:16he has an umbrella and a bowler hat. He is a city gent.

0:11:16 > 0:11:18And this is a huge breakthrough,

0:11:18 > 0:11:21you know, poets can look like anybody else.

0:11:21 > 0:11:25And yet, they are also writing the great poetry of the 20th century.

0:11:26 > 0:11:30Together, Pound and Eliot formed the most important partnership

0:11:30 > 0:11:35of 20th-century poetry, editing and promoting each other's work.

0:11:35 > 0:11:37Eliot's poetry reflected the turmoil

0:11:37 > 0:11:41and fragmentary state of the modern world.

0:11:41 > 0:11:44He appeared tantalisingly rarely on television,

0:11:44 > 0:11:49but he was filmed recording his poem, Four Quartets, for the BBC.

0:11:49 > 0:11:53The dove descending breaks the air

0:11:53 > 0:11:56With flame of incandescent terror

0:11:56 > 0:11:58Of which the tongues declare

0:11:58 > 0:12:02The one discharge from sin and error

0:12:03 > 0:12:07The only hope, or else despair

0:12:07 > 0:12:11Lies in the choice of pyre or pyre

0:12:11 > 0:12:15To be redeemed from fire by fire.

0:12:16 > 0:12:20POWERFUL EXPLOSIONS

0:12:22 > 0:12:25The First World War gave Eliot the impetus to write his most

0:12:25 > 0:12:29celebrated and revolutionary work, The Waste Land.

0:12:32 > 0:12:35Drawing on Pound's collage method of composition,

0:12:35 > 0:12:38the poem would come to define the emptiness

0:12:38 > 0:12:40and disillusionment of the post-war world.

0:12:41 > 0:12:45The Waste Land was modernist poetry's masterpiece.

0:12:50 > 0:12:52The Burial Of The Dead

0:12:54 > 0:12:57April is the cruellest month

0:12:57 > 0:13:00Breeding lilacs out of the dead land

0:13:00 > 0:13:04Mixing memory and desire

0:13:04 > 0:13:07Stirring dull roots with spring rain.

0:13:08 > 0:13:10Winter kept us warm

0:13:10 > 0:13:13Covering Earth in forgetful snow

0:13:13 > 0:13:17Feeding a little life with dried tubers.

0:13:19 > 0:13:22The Waste Land is probably our most famous

0:13:22 > 0:13:25artistic response to the First World War.

0:13:25 > 0:13:29It's very clearly a reaction to the

0:13:29 > 0:13:34sense of moral and spiritual and artistic breakdown.

0:13:34 > 0:13:37What is that sound high in the air

0:13:37 > 0:13:40Murmur of maternal lamentation

0:13:40 > 0:13:44Who are those hooded hordes swarming Over endless plains

0:13:44 > 0:13:46Stumbling in cracked earth

0:13:46 > 0:13:49Ringed by the flat horizon only

0:13:49 > 0:13:52What is the city over the mountains

0:13:52 > 0:13:57Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet air

0:13:57 > 0:13:59Falling towers

0:13:59 > 0:14:03Jerusalem Athens Alexandria

0:14:03 > 0:14:06Vienna London

0:14:06 > 0:14:07Unreal.

0:14:10 > 0:14:13It is a poem that's radically de-centred.

0:14:13 > 0:14:16There's no perspective that unites it all.

0:14:16 > 0:14:19It is a poem about incoherence.

0:14:19 > 0:14:22It is a poem about looking for origins,

0:14:22 > 0:14:25for meanings, for trying

0:14:25 > 0:14:29to find a way to start over and finding that unbelievably painful.

0:14:31 > 0:14:35It's modernist in that the fragments of memory, bits of books,

0:14:35 > 0:14:39bits of culture, bits of overheard conversations.

0:14:39 > 0:14:42He puts them all in one poem

0:14:42 > 0:14:46and somehow manages to write

0:14:46 > 0:14:48and create the 20th century.

0:14:48 > 0:14:50It was written quite early in the century,

0:14:50 > 0:14:53but it absolutely looks forward.

0:14:55 > 0:14:59Alongside references to ancient myth and popular culture,

0:14:59 > 0:15:03the poem captures glimpses of contemporary life.

0:15:03 > 0:15:06Sometimes they're just conversations, you know,

0:15:06 > 0:15:08he talks about a woman talking about her husband, going,

0:15:08 > 0:15:11"When Lil's husband got demobbed, I said - I didn't mince my words,

0:15:11 > 0:15:14"I said to her myself, 'Hurry up, please, it's time.'"

0:15:14 > 0:15:16So you've got this bar, you can hear the barman, you can

0:15:16 > 0:15:20hear the ladies talking about a soldier, about the war.

0:15:20 > 0:15:23Now Albert's coming back, Make yourself a bit smart.

0:15:23 > 0:15:26He'll want to know what you've done with that money he gave you

0:15:26 > 0:15:29To get yourself some teeth. He did, I was there.

0:15:29 > 0:15:32You have them all out, Lil, And get a nice set,

0:15:32 > 0:15:34He said, I swear I can't bear to look at you.

0:15:34 > 0:15:38He's got this ability to make us hear what he heard,

0:15:38 > 0:15:41so he's making your ears get pricked up

0:15:41 > 0:15:44so that you are hearing more heightenedly and, actually,

0:15:44 > 0:15:49that is what poetry is, is us hearing ourselves better.

0:15:49 > 0:15:50It throws light on things.

0:15:50 > 0:15:57All art does that, it just sandblasts reality with light.

0:15:57 > 0:16:00High modernist poetry, particularly, is represented by The Waste Land,

0:16:00 > 0:16:04which is by far the most influential single poem of the 20th century,

0:16:04 > 0:16:08I think. It sort of cleared everything away, I mean,

0:16:08 > 0:16:13it liberated the next generation of poets from the past.

0:16:13 > 0:16:15It was as if after The Waste Land,

0:16:15 > 0:16:17all sorts of new things could become possible.

0:16:19 > 0:16:22The desolation of the First World War had led Eliot to

0:16:22 > 0:16:24write his masterpiece.

0:16:24 > 0:16:27But out of the horrors of the front lines

0:16:27 > 0:16:30would come a new, more direct kind of poetry.

0:16:30 > 0:16:34Faced with the unrelenting trauma of trench warfare, a group of

0:16:34 > 0:16:40soldier poets created some of the most moving poetry of the century.

0:16:40 > 0:16:43First World War poetry is just an outstanding

0:16:43 > 0:16:45movement in British verse.

0:16:45 > 0:16:48I think it's to do with this idea of,

0:16:48 > 0:16:53you know, trained literary minds on the front line.

0:16:53 > 0:16:56You know, you got these highly articulate,

0:16:56 > 0:17:00highly intelligent people who could work wonders with words,

0:17:00 > 0:17:03and suddenly they were there holding rifles

0:17:03 > 0:17:08and witnessing colossal, seemingly endless waste of human life.

0:17:08 > 0:17:11That's what got reported back to us in verse.

0:17:13 > 0:17:14The poetry of Wilfred Owen

0:17:14 > 0:17:18and Siegfried Sassoon broke new ground with its raw

0:17:18 > 0:17:21and shocking description of the horrors they witnessed.

0:17:24 > 0:17:28"All a poet can do today is warn", said Wilfred Owen, and,

0:17:28 > 0:17:31if you like, Owen and Sassoon are protest poets.

0:17:31 > 0:17:34They are telling people what it's like at the front

0:17:34 > 0:17:38and that nobody should have to put up with these conditions.

0:17:38 > 0:17:42SHELLING AND SHOUTING

0:17:44 > 0:17:49Fighting alongside Sassoon in France was Robert Graves,

0:17:49 > 0:17:53captain in the Royal Welch Fusiliers and budding poet.

0:17:53 > 0:17:56The war had a profound effect on Graves' poetry,

0:17:56 > 0:17:58and in 1916 his first

0:17:58 > 0:18:00volume of verse was published.

0:18:02 > 0:18:05That same year, his name appeared in print again,

0:18:05 > 0:18:09this time in a national newspaper, listed among the dead.

0:18:12 > 0:18:17Many years later, Graves reflected on his own death for the BBC.

0:18:19 > 0:18:21I was 22 hours dead.

0:18:21 > 0:18:24It was on my 21st birthday and that's where I started again,

0:18:24 > 0:18:28you see, I'm now only 53 instead of 74.

0:18:28 > 0:18:30You were reported dead?

0:18:30 > 0:18:34They closed my bank account, they wrote to my parents

0:18:34 > 0:18:37and said how heroic I was, they did everything.

0:18:37 > 0:18:42They stole all my kit and I appealed for it but I never got it back.

0:18:47 > 0:18:48As the war ended,

0:18:48 > 0:18:52Graves wrote a poem recalling the jubilation of Armistice Day.

0:18:54 > 0:18:55Armistice Day, 1918.

0:18:57 > 0:19:01What's all this hubbub and yelling, Commotion and scamper of feet

0:19:01 > 0:19:04With ear-splitting clatter of kettles and cans

0:19:04 > 0:19:07Wild laughter down Mafeking Street?

0:19:07 > 0:19:09O, those are the kids whom we fought for

0:19:09 > 0:19:11You might think they'd been scoffing our rum

0:19:11 > 0:19:14With flags that they waved When we marched off to war

0:19:14 > 0:19:16In the rapture of bugle and drum.

0:19:18 > 0:19:21But his anger at the futility of the war meant that celebrations

0:19:21 > 0:19:23were of little comfort.

0:19:24 > 0:19:26When the days of rejoicing are over

0:19:26 > 0:19:29And the flags are stowed safely away

0:19:29 > 0:19:32They will dream of another wild "War To End Wars"

0:19:32 > 0:19:35And another wild Armistice Day

0:19:35 > 0:19:37But the boys who were killed in the trenches

0:19:37 > 0:19:40Who fought with no rage and no rant

0:19:40 > 0:19:43We left them stretched out on their pallets of mud

0:19:43 > 0:19:45Low down with the worm and the ant.

0:19:50 > 0:19:541920S SWING MUSIC

0:19:59 > 0:20:02In the 1920s, a weary post-war Britain was keen to put

0:20:02 > 0:20:06the misery of the trenches behind it.

0:20:06 > 0:20:08But perhaps it wasn't quite ready for a poet

0:20:08 > 0:20:10who was about to make a dramatic entrance.

0:20:13 > 0:20:16The eccentric, aristocratic Edith Sitwell.

0:20:18 > 0:20:20On the 12th June, 1923,

0:20:20 > 0:20:23Sitwell performed her poem, Facade,

0:20:23 > 0:20:25in London's Aeolian Hall.

0:20:26 > 0:20:28Sit and sleep

0:20:28 > 0:20:30Periwigged as William and Mary...

0:20:30 > 0:20:33She read her poems from behind a painted curtain.

0:20:33 > 0:20:36This version was designed by artist John Piper.

0:20:36 > 0:20:39..the reynard-coloured sun and I sigh

0:20:39 > 0:20:41Oh, the nursery-maid Meg

0:20:41 > 0:20:43With a leg like a peg

0:20:43 > 0:20:45Chased the feathered dreams like hens,

0:20:45 > 0:20:46And when they laid an egg...

0:20:46 > 0:20:50Music by composer William Walton accompanied her words.

0:20:50 > 0:20:53..the serene King James would steer.

0:20:53 > 0:20:57Her experimental blend of words and music took poetic convention

0:20:57 > 0:20:58and gave it a good shake.

0:20:58 > 0:21:02..picked it up as spoil to boil for nursery tea, said the mourners.

0:21:02 > 0:21:06The poems are rich in quickfire wordplay, free association

0:21:06 > 0:21:08and modernist jazz rhythms.

0:21:08 > 0:21:11And whistling down the feathered rain Old Noah goes again.

0:21:11 > 0:21:14Facade was quite an extraordinary undertaking.

0:21:15 > 0:21:20It had this great kind of wheezing, arrhythmic poetry,

0:21:20 > 0:21:25and then the performance element, with Sitwell behind a screen

0:21:25 > 0:21:28and declaiming these words through a megaphone,

0:21:28 > 0:21:32so her voice ringing around the performance space.

0:21:32 > 0:21:36It was, I think, quite alienating for members of the audience.

0:21:37 > 0:21:39Puzzled theatre-goers thought they were

0:21:39 > 0:21:42the victims of an elaborate hoax and, overnight,

0:21:42 > 0:21:46Sitwell became the most talked about poet in England.

0:21:49 > 0:21:52But Sitwell was serious about revitalising

0:21:52 > 0:21:57poetry for the modern age, as she explained later on BBC radio.

0:22:01 > 0:22:04'At that time, a change in the direction,

0:22:04 > 0:22:07'imagery and rhythms in poetry was taking place,

0:22:07 > 0:22:12'owing to the rhythmical flaccidity the verbal deadness, the dead

0:22:12 > 0:22:17'and expected patterns of some of the poetry immediately preceding us.

0:22:17 > 0:22:20'It was therefore necessary to find rhythmical expression

0:22:20 > 0:22:23'for the heightened speed of our time.'

0:22:25 > 0:22:27Sitwell was a poetic innovator,

0:22:27 > 0:22:31but it was her strikingly eccentric looks that drew the most attention.

0:22:31 > 0:22:34At six foot tall and draped in Tudor gowns

0:22:34 > 0:22:37and jewels, she cut quite a dash.

0:22:38 > 0:22:43Everything about Sitwell was a performance - the clothes...

0:22:43 > 0:22:45and she knew she looked weird,

0:22:45 > 0:22:49and so her decision was to look even weirder and to make

0:22:49 > 0:22:52no allowances, people had to know

0:22:52 > 0:22:55that she has to be a poet - look at her!

0:22:57 > 0:23:02In 1959, she was interviewed by John Freeman for the celebrated

0:23:02 > 0:23:04BBC series, Face to Face.

0:23:07 > 0:23:11Dame Edith, the world outside your own circle of friends

0:23:11 > 0:23:14tends to think of you as remote, eccentric,

0:23:14 > 0:23:17forbidding and rather dangerous.

0:23:17 > 0:23:19Now, perhaps that's a false impression, and I want you

0:23:19 > 0:23:23to tell me, face to face, what sort of person you really are.

0:23:23 > 0:23:28Now, first, your appearance, why did you devise your personal

0:23:28 > 0:23:30style of clothes that you wear so often?

0:23:30 > 0:23:34Well, because I can't wear fashionable clothes.

0:23:34 > 0:23:40You see, I'm a throwback to remote ancestors of mine and I really

0:23:40 > 0:23:43would look so extraordinary if I wore coats and skirts.

0:23:43 > 0:23:45I would be followed for miles

0:23:45 > 0:23:48and people would doubt the existence of the Almighty,

0:23:48 > 0:23:50if they saw me looking like that.

0:23:50 > 0:23:52There was the dressing-up aspect,

0:23:52 > 0:23:57but there was also the idea that she is, as we think of her,

0:23:57 > 0:24:01a series of modernist lines and angles,

0:24:01 > 0:24:03she somehow transcends the flesh,

0:24:03 > 0:24:06which she didn't really have much of,

0:24:06 > 0:24:09and becomes lines and bones

0:24:09 > 0:24:13and costume jewellery and turbans and rings.

0:24:13 > 0:24:16She is a confection, a construction.

0:24:16 > 0:24:17She's like something that's been built,

0:24:17 > 0:24:19rather than something that was lived.

0:24:19 > 0:24:23You asked me just now, you said that people's idea of me

0:24:23 > 0:24:28was that I was eccentric and savage?

0:24:28 > 0:24:30Forbidding and dangerous.

0:24:30 > 0:24:34Well, I don't think I'm forbidding, excepting when I absolutely refuse

0:24:34 > 0:24:37to be taught my job by people who know nothing about it.

0:24:37 > 0:24:39I have devoted my whole life to writing poetry,

0:24:39 > 0:24:41which is to me a form of religion.

0:24:41 > 0:24:45And I'm not going to be taught by people who know nothing about it.

0:24:45 > 0:24:47I think it's very impertinent.

0:24:47 > 0:24:49I mean, I don't teach plumbers how to plumb.

0:24:50 > 0:24:53Despite dressing like a historical relic,

0:24:53 > 0:24:56with her poetry, Sitwell was ahead of her time.

0:25:14 > 0:25:19There is a genealogical relationship between Sitwell and rap,

0:25:19 > 0:25:23because her poetry was popular in recorded form,

0:25:23 > 0:25:25you bought a Sitwell LP.

0:25:25 > 0:25:27Her work should always be listened to -

0:25:27 > 0:25:31don't read it if you don't have to. Hear her perform it,

0:25:31 > 0:25:34because the music of it is in there in her voice.

0:25:55 > 0:25:58The 1930s took Britain into an age of political tension,

0:25:58 > 0:26:02economic crisis and high unemployment.

0:26:05 > 0:26:08In Europe, political leaders were squaring up

0:26:08 > 0:26:11for another devastating war.

0:26:13 > 0:26:17From this uncertainty, a young writer emerged, convinced that

0:26:17 > 0:26:20poetry should have an engaged, political voice.

0:26:23 > 0:26:27Wystan Hugh Auden was born in York, the son of a doctor.

0:26:29 > 0:26:33He won a scholarship to Oxford University, where he held sway

0:26:33 > 0:26:38over a group of idealistic young writers with strong left-wing views.

0:26:38 > 0:26:42They believed their duty as poets was to inspire political change.

0:26:45 > 0:26:48In his 20s, Auden travelled to Berlin,

0:26:48 > 0:26:50to bear witness and report back.

0:26:52 > 0:26:54There, he discovered and wrote about

0:26:54 > 0:26:56a Europe on the brink of catastrophe.

0:27:01 > 0:27:03If you read Auden's poetry of the '30s,

0:27:03 > 0:27:05there is a kind of urgency to it.

0:27:05 > 0:27:08He wrote about demagogues, dangerous leaders,

0:27:08 > 0:27:10such as you were seeing in Hitler and Mussolini.

0:27:10 > 0:27:15He is engaged and politicised and at the same time he's a very individual

0:27:15 > 0:27:20voice, fantastically mature and precocious from the start.

0:27:22 > 0:27:25Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,

0:27:25 > 0:27:29And the poetry he invented was easy to understand.

0:27:29 > 0:27:33He knew human folly like the back of his hand,

0:27:33 > 0:27:36Was greatly interested in armies and fleets.

0:27:36 > 0:27:41When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter

0:27:41 > 0:27:46And when he cried, the little children died in the streets.

0:27:49 > 0:27:54Hungry to experience conflict, in 1937, Auden volunteered

0:27:54 > 0:27:59for the Republican forces fighting Fascism in the Spanish Civil War.

0:28:01 > 0:28:03My first guest, WH Auden.

0:28:03 > 0:28:05APPLAUSE

0:28:05 > 0:28:09But in later life, Auden would come to reject his youthful belief

0:28:09 > 0:28:12in the power of poetry to inspire change.

0:28:12 > 0:28:16He was interviewed by Michael Parkinson in 1972.

0:28:16 > 0:28:22You seemed to deny the thing that a lot of people suspect a poet hopes

0:28:22 > 0:28:26he could be, which is a kind of social, political reformer.

0:28:26 > 0:28:31No, that they can't be. At least, not in the West.

0:28:31 > 0:28:35By all means, let a writer or poet,

0:28:35 > 0:28:41if he feels like it, write what we now call an "engage" poem.

0:28:41 > 0:28:44But he must not imagine that by doing so

0:28:44 > 0:28:48he will change the course of history.

0:28:48 > 0:28:51Nothing I wrote postponed the war for five seconds,

0:28:51 > 0:28:53or prevented one Jew being gassed.

0:28:53 > 0:28:58- Yes.- Now, of course one can do them, but one mustn't imagine that

0:28:58 > 0:29:01one can change the course of history by doing it.

0:29:01 > 0:29:06I mean, if one asks what the function of not just literature

0:29:06 > 0:29:12but of all the arts is, first of all I'd say what Dr Johnson said.

0:29:12 > 0:29:17The aim of writing is to enable readers a little better

0:29:17 > 0:29:20to enjoy life, or a little better to endure it.

0:29:23 > 0:29:27Auden's verse became less urgent and more reflective.

0:29:28 > 0:29:31The BBC visited him at his summer home in Austria.

0:29:34 > 0:29:36As I walked out one evening,

0:29:36 > 0:29:38Walking down Bristol Street,

0:29:38 > 0:29:40The crowds upon the pavement

0:29:40 > 0:29:43Were fields of harvest wheat.

0:29:43 > 0:29:45And down by the brimming river,

0:29:45 > 0:29:46I heard a lover sing

0:29:46 > 0:29:49Under the arch of a railway,

0:29:49 > 0:29:51"Love has no ending.

0:29:51 > 0:29:53"I'll love you till the ocean

0:29:53 > 0:29:55"Is folded and hung up to dry

0:29:55 > 0:29:58"And the seven stars go squawking

0:29:58 > 0:29:59"Like geese about the sky."

0:30:01 > 0:30:05The reason that he's so important

0:30:05 > 0:30:09is to do with the incredible technical versatility

0:30:09 > 0:30:11and freedom of his poetry.

0:30:11 > 0:30:16It was often said that WH Auden had this peculiar gift of making

0:30:16 > 0:30:19ordinary words sound terribly poetic

0:30:19 > 0:30:23by putting them into echoing patterns of sounds.

0:30:23 > 0:30:27It's as if the experiments of people like Pound and Eliot

0:30:27 > 0:30:32have freed him to go back to the roots of what English poetry can do.

0:30:33 > 0:30:36"Stand, stand at the window

0:30:36 > 0:30:38"As the tears scald and start,

0:30:38 > 0:30:40"You must love your crooked neighbour

0:30:40 > 0:30:43"With your crooked heart."

0:30:43 > 0:30:45It was late, late in the evening,

0:30:45 > 0:30:47The lovers, they were gone,

0:30:47 > 0:30:50The clocks had ceased their chiming

0:30:50 > 0:30:52And the deep river ran on.

0:30:55 > 0:31:02On the whole, I think one's rather proud to serve a medium which,

0:31:02 > 0:31:06in our time, when the public has learnt to consume

0:31:06 > 0:31:10almost everything like cans of soup,

0:31:10 > 0:31:13poetry is somehow or other remained something you either have

0:31:13 > 0:31:14to read it or leave it alone.

0:31:14 > 0:31:18It's rather nice, I think, that one has this medium.

0:31:18 > 0:31:21At any rate, as few as one's readers may be,

0:31:21 > 0:31:24at any rate, one knows they can read.

0:31:32 > 0:31:35If Auden came to distance himself from politics,

0:31:35 > 0:31:40one fellow poet never wavered in his political commitment.

0:31:42 > 0:31:45Hugh MacDiarmid was born Christopher Grieve

0:31:45 > 0:31:49in the Scottish Borders in 1892.

0:31:49 > 0:31:52Fiercely patriotic, MacDiarmid was a member of both

0:31:52 > 0:31:55the Communist Party and the Scottish National Party.

0:31:55 > 0:31:59He also listed Anglophobia as one of his hobbies.

0:32:02 > 0:32:04I am a Scotsman, as you can hear.

0:32:04 > 0:32:09In the Declaration of Arbroath, way back in 1320,

0:32:09 > 0:32:12perhaps the greatest democratic pledge of all time,

0:32:12 > 0:32:15my people, the Scottish people, swore

0:32:15 > 0:32:18that as long as a hundred of them remained alive,

0:32:18 > 0:32:22they would never allow themselves to be dominated by the English.

0:32:22 > 0:32:24APPLAUSE

0:32:27 > 0:32:32My people have done little but betray that oath ever since.

0:32:33 > 0:32:38Some poets get their engine out of a kind of rebellion against the world.

0:32:38 > 0:32:40He was deliberately very provocative,

0:32:40 > 0:32:44he thought that was part of his duty, to be provocative.

0:32:44 > 0:32:48MacDiarmid felt that Scotland had lost itself,

0:32:48 > 0:32:52and that its identity could be reclaimed through poetry.

0:32:52 > 0:32:54But for him, the experience of being Scottish

0:32:54 > 0:32:58could not be properly expressed in English.

0:32:58 > 0:33:03He formulated an ambitious plan to create a new Scots language.

0:33:03 > 0:33:08I myself was convinced that there was nothing that the Scottish mind

0:33:08 > 0:33:12could conceive that couldn't be better expressed in Scots

0:33:12 > 0:33:15than in English, or any other language.

0:33:15 > 0:33:21There's a whole range of feelings, of combinations of ideas,

0:33:21 > 0:33:25all related to the specific character of Scottish landscape

0:33:25 > 0:33:28and to the history of the Scottish race

0:33:28 > 0:33:32in relation to their landscape, which is embodied in the vocabulary of

0:33:32 > 0:33:38Scots and which is very little used in the last couple of hundred years.

0:33:38 > 0:33:41He passionately wanted to write Scots

0:33:41 > 0:33:43and he wanted that not to be a backward-looking thing.

0:33:43 > 0:33:49He wanted to fuse modernism and language that was often antique.

0:33:49 > 0:33:55He didn't write dialect, he made a new, plastic language.

0:33:55 > 0:33:57He was actually before his time,

0:33:57 > 0:34:01he was before his time while using this old language

0:34:01 > 0:34:04in this amazing way.

0:34:04 > 0:34:08In 1978, MacDiarmid read his most famous work,

0:34:08 > 0:34:10A Drunk Man Looks at the Thistle,

0:34:10 > 0:34:11for the BBC.

0:34:13 > 0:34:14O, Scotland is

0:34:14 > 0:34:15THE barren fig.

0:34:15 > 0:34:17Up, carles, up

0:34:17 > 0:34:18And roond it jig.

0:34:18 > 0:34:20Auld Moses took

0:34:20 > 0:34:21A dry stick and

0:34:21 > 0:34:22Instantly it

0:34:22 > 0:34:23Floo'ered in his hand.

0:34:23 > 0:34:25Pu' Scotland up,

0:34:25 > 0:34:26And wha can say

0:34:26 > 0:34:27It winna bud

0:34:27 > 0:34:28And blossom tae.

0:34:28 > 0:34:29A miracle's

0:34:29 > 0:34:30Oor only chance,

0:34:30 > 0:34:32Up, carles, up

0:34:32 > 0:34:33And let us dance!

0:34:36 > 0:34:39The poem is a long monologue in which a drunk man lying on

0:34:39 > 0:34:43a hillside contemplates Scotland's position in the world,

0:34:43 > 0:34:45and rages against its seeming passivity

0:34:45 > 0:34:48in the face of English domination.

0:34:50 > 0:34:54Inside this flimsy story of somebody lying drunk in a ditch,

0:34:54 > 0:34:57all this stuff goes through his head,

0:34:57 > 0:34:59and it's ancient, it's modern

0:34:59 > 0:35:06and it's very angry and it's very anti British Empire.

0:35:06 > 0:35:09It's one of the most brilliant and game-changing poems

0:35:09 > 0:35:11that have ever existed.

0:35:13 > 0:35:17MacDiarmid helped spark a renaissance in Scottish literature.

0:35:17 > 0:35:21But in later life, he felt the battle was far from over.

0:35:22 > 0:35:23It's very questionable,

0:35:23 > 0:35:29whether the whole business that I started wasn't too late.

0:35:32 > 0:35:37I was hopeful when England lost its Empire.

0:35:38 > 0:35:43It might not be, but England's fighting back, of course,

0:35:43 > 0:35:46and still thinks it is a world influence

0:35:46 > 0:35:48and a world mission and so on.

0:35:48 > 0:35:51Let's get rid of England, somehow or another. Completely.

0:35:51 > 0:35:53- JOAN BAKEWELL:- You're still hopeful?

0:35:53 > 0:35:55- Hmm? - You're still hopeful?

0:35:55 > 0:35:56I'm still hopeful, yes.

0:36:01 > 0:36:03In the suburbs of North London,

0:36:03 > 0:36:07another poet was planning her own quiet rebellion.

0:36:08 > 0:36:13Stevie Smith lived with her spinster aunt and worked as a secretary.

0:36:16 > 0:36:19But behind the curtains of her suburban home,

0:36:19 > 0:36:22she created poetry that defied all expectation.

0:36:25 > 0:36:29Stevie Smith is a rebel, complete.

0:36:29 > 0:36:32She's going to write poetry

0:36:32 > 0:36:34and she's going to mock the way we write poetry.

0:36:35 > 0:36:40She was actually taking the kind of assumptions

0:36:40 > 0:36:43we make about poetry and what's important and how poetry works,

0:36:43 > 0:36:48and she was just refusing to even try.

0:36:50 > 0:36:54Her poetry was both jaunty and unsettling,

0:36:54 > 0:36:58apparently naive, yet preoccupied with death.

0:36:58 > 0:37:02She is seen here in rare BBC footage from 1965.

0:37:04 > 0:37:05In my poems,

0:37:05 > 0:37:08the dead often speak and the ghosts come back.

0:37:08 > 0:37:11Here is a poor man who got drowned.

0:37:11 > 0:37:13His friends thought he was waving to them from the sea,

0:37:13 > 0:37:15but really, he was drowning.

0:37:17 > 0:37:19Nobody heard him, the dead man,

0:37:19 > 0:37:21But still he lay moaning:

0:37:21 > 0:37:24"I was much further out than you thought

0:37:24 > 0:37:26"And not waving, but drowning."

0:37:28 > 0:37:30Poor chap, he always loved larking

0:37:30 > 0:37:31And now he's dead

0:37:31 > 0:37:35It must have been too cold for him, his heart gave way,

0:37:35 > 0:37:36They said.

0:37:36 > 0:37:41"Oh, no, no, no, it was too cold always",

0:37:41 > 0:37:44(Still the dead one lay moaning)

0:37:44 > 0:37:48"I was much too far out all my life

0:37:48 > 0:37:51"And not waving, but drowning."

0:37:54 > 0:37:57Beyond the apparent simplicity of her poetry

0:37:57 > 0:38:00lay a carefully crafted and innovative style.

0:38:03 > 0:38:05The poetry that was written by gentlemen,

0:38:05 > 0:38:08for gentlemen to read in the years when everybody learnt Latin

0:38:08 > 0:38:11and Greek at school is over, it's gone.

0:38:11 > 0:38:15You want rhyme - bugger you, you're not getting a rhyme.

0:38:15 > 0:38:19You want a story - I can't even be bothered telling you a story.

0:38:19 > 0:38:24She's going to write in chip-chop rhythm, she's going to use

0:38:24 > 0:38:29extraordinary, limited vocabulary, high level of repetition.

0:38:29 > 0:38:33And it works in a minimalist way.

0:38:34 > 0:38:36People in rather odd circumstances are what

0:38:36 > 0:38:40most of my poems are about, mixed up with arguments,

0:38:40 > 0:38:43religious difficulties, ghosts, deaths,

0:38:43 > 0:38:49fairy stories and a general feeling of guilt for not writing more.

0:38:49 > 0:38:54Stevie Smith cultivated a certain view of herself as

0:38:54 > 0:38:59the hare-eyed spinster of Palmer's Green,

0:38:59 > 0:39:03producing these, in a way, wilfully eccentric poems,

0:39:03 > 0:39:08oddly naive little works with these rather childlike drawings

0:39:08 > 0:39:11appended to them, and yet, I think,

0:39:11 > 0:39:16despite that sort of atmosphere of cultivated eccentricity,

0:39:16 > 0:39:21there is something very hard within her and something very dark too,

0:39:21 > 0:39:25that sort of destructive element there is inside her work,

0:39:25 > 0:39:28it's so raw and so powerful.

0:39:29 > 0:39:33The general feeling about love in the poems is nervous.

0:39:33 > 0:39:35Like this poor little child who has been turned

0:39:35 > 0:39:40to stone in his mother's lap. She clutches him and cries,

0:39:40 > 0:39:46"I'll have your heart, if not by gift, my knife shall carve it out.

0:39:46 > 0:39:48"I'll have your heart, your life."

0:39:50 > 0:39:54It's precisely the darkness that reminds you that actually,

0:39:54 > 0:39:58what you're mistaking for whimsy is this minimalism.

0:39:58 > 0:40:02It's asking you to back off and take another look.

0:40:07 > 0:40:12The onward march of the suburbs in the interwar years provided

0:40:12 > 0:40:16inspiration for a poet with an altogether more benign vision.

0:40:18 > 0:40:22Miss J Hunter Dunn, Miss J Hunter Dunn,

0:40:22 > 0:40:26Furnish'd and burnish'd by Aldershot sun,

0:40:26 > 0:40:30What strenuous singles we played after tea,

0:40:30 > 0:40:33We in the tournament - you against me!

0:40:33 > 0:40:37Love-thirty, love-forty, oh! Weakness of joy

0:40:37 > 0:40:40The speed of a swallow, the grace of a boy,

0:40:40 > 0:40:43With carefullest carelessness, gaily you won,

0:40:43 > 0:40:47I am weak from your loveliness, Joan Hunter Dunn.

0:40:48 > 0:40:54John Betjeman was born in 1906, the son of a luxury goods tradesman.

0:40:54 > 0:40:56As a child, Betjeman was painfully aware

0:40:56 > 0:41:00of his family's low status in Britain's class system,

0:41:00 > 0:41:04a preoccupation that would later come to define his poetry.

0:41:04 > 0:41:08Around us are Rovers and Austins afar,

0:41:08 > 0:41:12Above us the intimate roof of the car,

0:41:12 > 0:41:16And here on my right is the girl of my choice,

0:41:16 > 0:41:19With the tilt of her nose and the chime of her voice.

0:41:19 > 0:41:23And the scent of her wrap, and the words never said,

0:41:23 > 0:41:27And the ominous, ominous dancing ahead.

0:41:27 > 0:41:30We sat in the car park till twenty to one

0:41:30 > 0:41:35And now I'm engaged to Miss Joan Hunter Dunn.

0:41:37 > 0:41:41Betjeman's verse saw a return to elements of poetry

0:41:41 > 0:41:43discarded by the modernists -

0:41:43 > 0:41:49regular rhyme, familiar rhythm and a wry sense of humour.

0:41:50 > 0:41:53A passionate lover of buildings,

0:41:53 > 0:41:56he championed Victorian architecture at a time when historic towns

0:41:56 > 0:42:00and cities were being threatened by modern ideas of progress.

0:42:03 > 0:42:06He became a poet of a passing England,

0:42:06 > 0:42:10an England that was being subsumed

0:42:10 > 0:42:13under the concrete of new developments.

0:42:13 > 0:42:16And there is something in the work like that too,

0:42:16 > 0:42:19it's attached to rhyme and rhythm

0:42:19 > 0:42:25in an attractively conventional, consoling, comforting way.

0:42:25 > 0:42:29So just as he defended the Victorian architrave,

0:42:29 > 0:42:33he's there, defending certain kinds of end stopped rhyme

0:42:33 > 0:42:36when other people are rejecting it or seeing that

0:42:36 > 0:42:40as the equivalent having too many knick-knacks over your fireplace.

0:42:42 > 0:42:45He slightly strikes you as a fuddy-duddy,

0:42:45 > 0:42:49but actually, he embraced TV, modern media,

0:42:49 > 0:42:51newspaper, radio,

0:42:51 > 0:42:54he wanted to run with that,

0:42:54 > 0:42:55and I think he understood how

0:42:55 > 0:43:01poetry could work with the general reader and the general public.

0:43:01 > 0:43:04Well, if you mention the word "poet" to most people,

0:43:04 > 0:43:06they'll reach for the sleeping tablets.

0:43:06 > 0:43:09Well, there's one poet who manages to bridge that hitherto unbridgeable

0:43:09 > 0:43:14gap between the public and his art, he is Sir John Betjeman.

0:43:14 > 0:43:16APPLAUSE

0:43:17 > 0:43:20Betjeman found a natural home in front of the camera

0:43:20 > 0:43:23and was a regular guest on prime time chat shows.

0:43:31 > 0:43:33What is the function of a poet, Sir John?

0:43:33 > 0:43:40I think primarily, it's to say things simply, shortly,

0:43:40 > 0:43:43rhythmically, memorably.

0:43:43 > 0:43:46And it's luck, it's inspiration,

0:43:46 > 0:43:47there is such a thing as inspiration.

0:43:47 > 0:43:51And when you tell me that thing, if it's true,

0:43:51 > 0:43:55that my poetry is read by people who don't ordinarily

0:43:55 > 0:43:59read poetry, that's all I could want to happen.

0:43:59 > 0:44:04Betjeman could speak to a couple of million people through

0:44:04 > 0:44:10one transmission, and I take my hat off to anybody who can take poetry

0:44:10 > 0:44:14out to the general public, cos the general public don't always want it.

0:44:14 > 0:44:18And he forged a link and a bond with them.

0:44:18 > 0:44:20Some of that was through his personality,

0:44:20 > 0:44:23but a lot of it was through his work.

0:44:23 > 0:44:26I am a young executive,

0:44:26 > 0:44:28No cuffs than mine are cleaner.

0:44:28 > 0:44:30I own an oblong briefcase

0:44:30 > 0:44:32And I use the firm's Cortina.

0:44:32 > 0:44:36In every roadside hostelry from here to Burgess Hill

0:44:36 > 0:44:39Les maitres d'hotel all know me well and let me sign the bill.

0:44:39 > 0:44:41You ask me what it is I do.

0:44:41 > 0:44:43Well, actually, you know,

0:44:43 > 0:44:47I'm partly a liaison man and partly PRO.

0:44:47 > 0:44:50Essentially, I integrate the current export drive

0:44:50 > 0:44:54And basically, I'm viable from ten o'clock till five.

0:44:54 > 0:44:58Those poems, they're not facile. They're not just party tricks.

0:44:58 > 0:45:01He's got a good eye for social conventions

0:45:01 > 0:45:05and a tongue for undermining things when he chooses.

0:45:05 > 0:45:08I do some mild developing.

0:45:08 > 0:45:10The sort of place I need

0:45:10 > 0:45:14Is a quiet country market town that's rather run to seed.

0:45:14 > 0:45:17A luncheon and a drink or two, a little savoir faire,

0:45:17 > 0:45:21I nobble half the council, the banks, the clerk, the Mayor.

0:45:21 > 0:45:24And if some preservationist attempts to interfere

0:45:24 > 0:45:28A 'dangerous structure' notice from the Borough Engineer

0:45:28 > 0:45:32Will settle any buildings that are standing in our way -

0:45:32 > 0:45:36The modern style, sir, with respect, has really come to stay.

0:45:36 > 0:45:38That's beautiful.

0:45:38 > 0:45:40APPLAUSE

0:45:50 > 0:45:53Far from the television studios of the capital,

0:45:53 > 0:45:57another, more solitary poet was waging his own war

0:45:57 > 0:45:59against the decline of a precious culture.

0:46:01 > 0:46:07RS Thomas was a Welsh Anglican priest and a staunch nationalist.

0:46:07 > 0:46:10Written in his parish in the remote hills of North Wales,

0:46:10 > 0:46:14his poems are deeply rooted in rural life.

0:46:14 > 0:46:17But far from romanticizing the countryside,

0:46:17 > 0:46:21Thomas's work evoked the harshness of the Welsh landscape and

0:46:21 > 0:46:26the struggles of isolated farming communities in the mid 20th century.

0:46:29 > 0:46:31Too far for you to see

0:46:31 > 0:46:35The fluke and the foot-rot and the fat maggot

0:46:35 > 0:46:39Gnawing the skin from the small bones,

0:46:39 > 0:46:42The sheep are grazing at Bwlch-y-Fedwen,

0:46:42 > 0:46:46Arranged romantically in the usual manner

0:46:46 > 0:46:49On a bleak background of bald stone.

0:46:52 > 0:46:54Too far for you to see

0:46:54 > 0:46:58The moss and the mould on the cold chimneys,

0:46:58 > 0:47:03The nettles growing through the cracked doors,

0:47:03 > 0:47:06The houses stand empty at Nant-yr-Eira,

0:47:07 > 0:47:11There are holes in the roofs that are thatched with sunlight

0:47:11 > 0:47:14And the fields are reverting to the bare moor.

0:47:17 > 0:47:21Though he shunned the media, Thomas agreed to make two films

0:47:21 > 0:47:25with the BBC about his life and work in the Welsh hills.

0:47:26 > 0:47:31I came out of a kind of bourgeois environment.

0:47:31 > 0:47:36And, er, this muck and blood and hardness

0:47:36 > 0:47:43and the rain and the spittle and phlegm of farm life

0:47:43 > 0:47:46was, of course, a shock to begin with, and one felt

0:47:46 > 0:47:51that this was something not quite part of the order of things,

0:47:51 > 0:47:58but as one experienced it and saw how definitely part of their lives

0:47:58 > 0:48:03this was, sympathy grew in oneself,

0:48:03 > 0:48:06and compassion and admiration.

0:48:08 > 0:48:13I did find that the strongly charactered hardness of these,

0:48:13 > 0:48:17er, border people really did make an impression on me,

0:48:17 > 0:48:21as far as poetic material was concerned.

0:48:21 > 0:48:23CHURCH BELL TOLLS

0:48:28 > 0:48:31For Thomas, language and imagery connected his work

0:48:31 > 0:48:34as priest and as poet.

0:48:35 > 0:48:39Poetry is religion, religion is poetry.

0:48:39 > 0:48:43The message of the New Testament is poetry. Christ was a poet.

0:48:45 > 0:48:50The New Testament is metaphor. The Resurrection is metaphor.

0:48:52 > 0:48:56When I preach poetry, I am preaching Christianity.

0:48:56 > 0:48:59And when one discusses Christianity,

0:48:59 > 0:49:05one is discussing poetry in its imaginative aspects.

0:49:05 > 0:49:10The core, the core of both are imagination, as far as I'm concerned.

0:49:10 > 0:49:14He couldn't bear literalism, he loved the fact that poetry

0:49:14 > 0:49:21and religion provided for each other very ready explanations.

0:49:21 > 0:49:28He could link in his imagination the idea of the story

0:49:28 > 0:49:32of the Resurrection with the word metaphor,

0:49:32 > 0:49:37that is how he wrote his sermons, how he thought about God,

0:49:37 > 0:49:39how he wrote his poems,

0:49:39 > 0:49:43and I believe it all to be one whole way of being.

0:49:43 > 0:49:45HE SPEAKS WELSH

0:49:45 > 0:49:49Despite his isolated existence,

0:49:49 > 0:49:53Thomas was passionately committed to contemporary causes.

0:49:53 > 0:49:55He was well-known for his campaigning -

0:49:55 > 0:49:59for nuclear disarmament and for wider use of the Welsh language.

0:50:01 > 0:50:05'As the arson campaign enters its 14th week, police in Wales

0:50:05 > 0:50:10'have warned that all homes owned by English people are now at risk.'

0:50:10 > 0:50:11Most controversially,

0:50:11 > 0:50:15when a militant Welsh nationalist group burnt down English-owned

0:50:15 > 0:50:19holiday homes in the 1970s, Thomas was moved to defend them.

0:50:36 > 0:50:39Where can I go, then, from the smell

0:50:39 > 0:50:43Of decay, from the putrefying of a dead nation?

0:50:46 > 0:50:48I have walked the shore

0:50:48 > 0:50:49For an hour and seen the English

0:50:49 > 0:50:51Scavenging among the remains

0:50:51 > 0:50:55Of our culture, covering the sand

0:50:55 > 0:50:58Like the tide and, with the roughness

0:50:58 > 0:51:00Of the tide, elbowing our language

0:51:00 > 0:51:05Into the grave that we have dug for it.

0:51:16 > 0:51:20Born only a year after the reclusive RS Thomas was another

0:51:20 > 0:51:24Welsh poet, but one who lived and died squarely in the limelight.

0:51:26 > 0:51:29Dylan Thomas, the son of an English teacher,

0:51:29 > 0:51:32was born in Swansea in 1914.

0:51:32 > 0:51:35He developed an early love for words and their sounds.

0:51:37 > 0:51:40He was a prodigal poet, writing much of his most famous work

0:51:40 > 0:51:43while still living with his parents.

0:51:44 > 0:51:48His first collection was published in 1934, and soon after,

0:51:48 > 0:51:50he began broadcasting for the BBC.

0:51:52 > 0:51:56In 1949, he recorded a poem written to mark his 30th birthday.

0:51:58 > 0:52:03Here is a poem called Poem in October.

0:52:03 > 0:52:06It was my thirtieth year to heaven

0:52:06 > 0:52:09Woke to my hearing from harbour and neighbour wood

0:52:09 > 0:52:11And the mussel pooled and the heron

0:52:11 > 0:52:13Priested shore

0:52:13 > 0:52:15The morning beckon

0:52:15 > 0:52:18With water praying and call of seagull and rook

0:52:18 > 0:52:22And the knock of sailing boats on the net webbed wall

0:52:22 > 0:52:24Myself to set foot

0:52:24 > 0:52:25That second

0:52:25 > 0:52:29In the still sleeping town and set forth.

0:52:32 > 0:52:35I can remember the sound of Dylan Thomas's voice

0:52:35 > 0:52:39coming out of the radio, it was very deep and fruity, and also

0:52:39 > 0:52:43this accent that you could almost feel like you could

0:52:43 > 0:52:48touch it and get into it, so when he said things like "all shining",

0:52:48 > 0:52:54and if you had an old radio, it would rattle a bit as well.

0:52:54 > 0:52:56In a way, the BBC made him,

0:52:56 > 0:52:59they gave him his voice and he gave his voice to the radio.

0:53:02 > 0:53:06Thomas's writing was precocious and original, full of an exuberance

0:53:06 > 0:53:10for words, at odds with the sparse poetry of his contemporaries.

0:53:11 > 0:53:13Dylan Thomas is a poet who isn't trying

0:53:13 > 0:53:16to join the classical tradition,

0:53:16 > 0:53:18he just breaks it by bursting out,

0:53:18 > 0:53:24I suppose he's a pure talent, he's a kind of volcano of talent.

0:53:24 > 0:53:28He was the first star, a public star,

0:53:28 > 0:53:32as in on the BBC, he became a sort of rock star, but he was a poet.

0:53:32 > 0:53:33And that's unusual.

0:53:33 > 0:53:37With Dylan Thomas, you get a return to the old idea of the poet

0:53:37 > 0:53:40as a bard, an orator.

0:53:40 > 0:53:42I mean, he was a great performer of his own work,

0:53:42 > 0:53:44great reader of his own work.

0:53:44 > 0:53:47It's extravagant.

0:53:47 > 0:53:50It's word breeding another word, image breeding image.

0:53:50 > 0:53:53We have lushness and rhetoric.

0:53:53 > 0:53:56For him, poems had to be read aloud, he loved the sound of words

0:53:56 > 0:53:59and that was really crucial to the way he wrote.

0:54:00 > 0:54:02In London, as his career took off,

0:54:02 > 0:54:08Thomas's legendary hard-drinking reputation began to take root.

0:54:08 > 0:54:12Remarkably, no footage or filmed interviews with Thomas exist.

0:54:12 > 0:54:16But his widow, Caitlin Thomas, gave an interview to the BBC

0:54:16 > 0:54:19in 1977 about life with the poet.

0:54:21 > 0:54:25From the very start, he had just the one idea -

0:54:25 > 0:54:27the poems and the booze.

0:54:27 > 0:54:29In that order, was it, then?

0:54:29 > 0:54:32Yes. The poems, they were more important,

0:54:32 > 0:54:38but I think he used the booze to kind of wipe out the poems,

0:54:38 > 0:54:40not to think about them when he wasn't writing them.

0:54:40 > 0:54:42How did he write poetry,

0:54:42 > 0:54:44and was it easy for him, or difficult?

0:54:44 > 0:54:46No, no, no, it was terribly difficult for him.

0:54:48 > 0:54:51He used to go into his little shed and scrape and scratch and mutter

0:54:51 > 0:54:55and mumble and intone and change

0:54:55 > 0:54:57and he was frightfully slow, you know.

0:54:57 > 0:55:00In one whole long afternoon from about 2:00 to 7:00,

0:55:00 > 0:55:02he might have done just one line,

0:55:02 > 0:55:05or taken out one word, or put in one word.

0:55:07 > 0:55:10Much of Thomas's poetry paints a nostalgic picture

0:55:10 > 0:55:12of his childhood in Wales.

0:55:17 > 0:55:21Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs

0:55:21 > 0:55:26About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,

0:55:26 > 0:55:29The night above the dingle starry,

0:55:29 > 0:55:32Time let me hail and climb

0:55:32 > 0:55:35Golden in the heydays of his eyes,

0:55:35 > 0:55:39And honoured among wagons, I was prince of the apple towns

0:55:39 > 0:55:45And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves

0:55:45 > 0:55:48Trail with daisies and barley

0:55:48 > 0:55:52Down the rivers of the windfall light.

0:55:55 > 0:55:58It is a nostalgia for his childhood, but not one that he was

0:55:58 > 0:56:03trying to repeat in his life, it's a nostalgia seeped in technicolour,

0:56:03 > 0:56:09his memory, and it's as if there's a sort of saturation in his memory.

0:56:09 > 0:56:14Thomas's image as the fast-living enfant terrible of poetry

0:56:14 > 0:56:17became fixed in the public imagination.

0:56:17 > 0:56:21It was a role he would adopt until his death in 1953.

0:56:22 > 0:56:25For his widow, his demise had seemed inevitable.

0:56:26 > 0:56:29He was always convinced that he was going to die

0:56:29 > 0:56:30before middle age, wasn't he?

0:56:30 > 0:56:33Yes, he was, he had a ridiculous,

0:56:33 > 0:56:37romantic idea, you know, of the poet starving in the garret,

0:56:37 > 0:56:40and all that helped the image he was trying to build up

0:56:40 > 0:56:44of the tubercular, consumptive, dying, pale poet,

0:56:44 > 0:56:49and he wanted to be long and sickly and green and all that.

0:56:49 > 0:56:53But in fact, of course, he was square and small and not like

0:56:53 > 0:56:55the conventional idea of a poet at all.

0:56:57 > 0:57:02Thomas undoubtedly cultivated the image of the Poet, capital P,

0:57:02 > 0:57:04which had almost been killed off.

0:57:04 > 0:57:08So it was the poet as the drinker - and my God, Thomas was a drinker -

0:57:08 > 0:57:10the poet as womanizer.

0:57:10 > 0:57:12There was something in the end rather infantile

0:57:12 > 0:57:14and innocent about Dylan Thomas,

0:57:14 > 0:57:17and suddenly this worldly success came to him,

0:57:17 > 0:57:20and he couldn't cope with it and of course, it killed him.

0:57:22 > 0:57:28Was he the same man in his own private life

0:57:28 > 0:57:30as he projected publicly?

0:57:30 > 0:57:33No, he was rather off-stage in the house.

0:57:33 > 0:57:36He liked his warm slippers, you know,

0:57:36 > 0:57:39and his dish of titbits and pickled onions and sardines,

0:57:39 > 0:57:44anything with a lot of vinegar, and cockles, all put on a plate which

0:57:44 > 0:57:48he'd stuff into his mouth when he was listening to the cricket scores.

0:57:48 > 0:57:51So, you know, I keep... He was just Mr Everyman

0:57:51 > 0:57:55until he put on the act of being the poet, or until he wrote his poetry.

0:57:58 > 0:58:03Oh, as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,

0:58:03 > 0:58:08Time held me green and dying

0:58:08 > 0:58:12Though I sang in my chains like the sea.

0:58:18 > 0:58:22Next time - the aftermath of war breeds a new kind of poetry,

0:58:22 > 0:58:26keen to reflect the voice of the ordinary man and woman.

0:58:26 > 0:58:31A new kind of poet from outside the world of the educated white male.

0:58:31 > 0:58:33And a new kind of audience,

0:58:33 > 0:58:37many turned on to poetry for the first time.