| |
| |
|
Poetry Information |
|
|
|
Savage Nature: The Life of Ted Hughes
One of the most important poets of the post-war period, Edward James Hughes (1930-1998), was drawn towards the primitive. He was enchanted by the beauty of the natural world, frequently portraying its cruel and savage temperament in his work as a reflection of his own personal suffering and mystical beliefs - convinced that modern man had lost touch with the primordial side of his nature. Born in Mytholmroyd, a remote mill town in West Yorkshire, Ted (as he was known to his friends and family) was enormously affected by the desolate moorland landscape of his childhood, and also by his father's vivid recollections of the brutality of trench warfare. Indeed, his father, who was then a carpenter, was one of only seventeen men from his regiment to have survived at Gallipoli during the First World War. At the age of seven his family moved to Mexborough (also in Yorkshire), where his parents opened a stationery and tobacco shop. Here he attended the local grammar school, where he first began to write poetry - usually bloodcurdling verses about Zulus and cowboys - before doing two years' national service in the Royal Air Force. He later won a scholarship to Pembroke College, Cambridge, where he started reading English Literature but switched to archaeology and anthropology, subjects that were a major influence on the development of his poetic awareness. Here he immersed himself in the works of Shakespeare, W.B. Yeats and read Robert Graves's "The White Goddess" (1948). Following his graduation in 1954, he moved to London, where he had a number of interesting jobs, including zoo keeping, gardening and script reading for J. Arthur Rank. He also had several of his poems published in university magazines. In 1956 he and some Cambridge friends started up a literary journal called St. Botolph's Review. It lasted for only one issue but at the inaugural party Ted met his future wife, the then unknown American poet, Sylvia Plath. Much has been written about the Hughes/Plath relationship since that first portentous meeting, but few can doubt that these two brilliantly creative people were enormously attracted to one another, almost from the moment they were first introduced. Within just a few short months they were married and living in the USA, where Hughes taught English and creative writing at the University of Massachusetts in Amherst. And before the year was out, he had won an American poetry competition, judged by W.H. Auden, Sir Stephen Spender and Marianne Moore. Hughes once said of this contented period: "We would write poetry every day. It was all we were interested in, all we ever did." - Ted Hughes Plath assisted him with the preparation of his first collection, The Hawk in the Rain (1957), a work that was quite extraordinary in its treatment of natural subjects. He continued to live in America for the next few years, being partly supported by a Guggenheim Foundation grant, before returning to England in 1959. He then went on to win the Somerset Maugham award and the Hawthornden prize for his second book, "Luperca"l (1960); confirming his reputation as one of the most important poets of the post-war period. The next few years of Ted's life have since become the subject of much biographical speculation. However, the simple facts are that he and Plath had two children and moved to Devon in 1961. Their marriage began to disintegrate shortly thereafter and Hughes started an affair with Assia Wevill. He split from Plath and she committed suicide in her London flat in 1963. In 1969 Wevill also killed herself and their child. He married Carol Orchard in 1970 and spent the rest of his life trying to protect his and Plath's children from the media. Hughes published only children's poetry and prose in the years following the death of his first wife. His next major work was "Wodwo" (1967), which took its title from a character in the medieval romance "Sir Gawain and the Green Knight", and highlighted his increasing interest in mythology. He travelled to Iran in 1971, where he wrote the verse/drama "Orghast" in an invented language. Some of his other collections include "Crow" (1970), "Cave Birds" (1975), "Season Songs" (1976), "Gaudete" (a long poem on fertility rites, 1977), "Moortown" (1979), "Remains of Elmet" (1979) and "River" (1983). Hughes was also one of the originators of the Arvon Foundation and was awarded an OBE in 1977. In 1984 he was appointed Poet Laureate and went on to publish "Rain-Charm for the Duchy and other Laureate Poems" (1992). Then in 1995 he composed a poem about Elizabeth, the Queen Mother, for her 95th birthday, likening her to a six-rooted tree. He also wrote many reviews and essays, some of which were collected in "Shakespeare and the Goddess of Complete Being" (1992), "A Dancer to God: Tribute to T.S. Eliot" (1992) and "Winter Pollen: Occasional Prose" (1994). In addition to all this he also wrote many wonderful plays and books for children, including his remarkable fantasy "The Iron Man". And when, just months before his death, Hughes released "Birthday Letters", a collection of poems about his life with Sylvia Plath, it became an immediate bestseller throughout the English speaking world and was widely praised for its searing honesty. Ted Hughes died of cancer on 28th October 1998, having just been appointed to the Order of Merit. Andrew Motion followed him as Britain's Poet Laureate. About The Author Paula is a freelance writer who has contributed articles, reviews and essays to numerous publications on subjects such as literature, travel, culture, history and humanitarian issues. She lives in North Wales, is a staff writer for Apsaras Review and the editor of two popular online guides. You can read her résumé at: http://www.paula-bardell.com. paula-bardell@freelance-worker.com
MORE RESOURCES:
poetry - Google News |
|
|
|
RELATED ARTICLES
The Crusader: A Search for the Virtue Inside (an excerpt of an Epic Poem) On through the darkness she searches the bones Seeking the hand of her love; Deep in the stillness, the maid searches on, Petitioning help from above. Onward she gropes through the flesh and the blood Of the warriors disfigured and maimed; She carries no hope for the life of her love - For naught but his body she came. Two Poems with Triggers [and a commentary] So Many Einstein'sThe morning mist, insists there is a God. The earth remains faithful to its orbit. Grandpas House & From Iraq with Love [Two Poems] Grandpa's House [The ole Real House]The house needed painting Sun-blistered and flaking Grandpa started to have us Boys-Mike and I- start Doing some scraping-While he, pealed off the ole Paint, and started painting?Just a humble wooden house With several rooms, but Strong enough to keep the Winds and winter snows out, How he loved that ole house!.. In the Mountans of Haiti [A Poem: in English and Spanish] In the Mountains of Haiti(In the City)-July is a hot month-sweating Poverty out on every street (In Port de Prince); mixingMemory with desire causes stirring. Not much rain in Haiti (in 1986); Summer kept us busy, building A medical clinic, in the mountains?. Become A Poet In Ten Minutes Have you ever sat there staring at the paper, ready to write, but unsure where to begin? Want a solution that will overcome even the worst writer's block? Anyone can start writing poetry today using a few simple techniques.One, two, . Hindu Poet - Kamalakanta Kamalakanta was born in Burdwan India in the late 18th Century. From an early age he expressed an interest in spirituality and later in life Kamalakanta received initiation into Tantric Yoga from a Tantric yogi named Kenaram Bhattacharya. Poetry and Popular Culture Is poetry too complicated for the average reader? Is it too cryptic, scholarly? If you ask a large group of average people what they like or don't like about poetry, you'll get a few different answers, but there is an overwhelmingly common category of responses.One of the main reasons that people say they aren't addicted to contemporary poetry is that they feel it is too cryptic. I Hate The Wait (Weight) I get up in the morningAnd want to stay in bedOh, so nice and warmLike fresh from the oven bread.My day is oh so busyI wish that I could stayIn the quiet of my houseIf only I could play. Three Poems and Paradise Lost [One for Hell, One for Heaven one for an Inca King] The Torrents of HellHell's furnace- Likened to a chimney Vomits her torrents Of flames- Into the air Through earths crust And the earth's trembles-!Agitated, she projects A thick curtain of smoke To heat the feet of those Who provoke her every wish. Like molten iron She waits for the soul(the moment) Then molds, into her enclosure Human serpents? Out of savage flesh!No storm, no struggle No eruption, no typhoon, Just a terrible phenomenon, Hell is capable of producing; And upon death, Back into the Abyss They melt!. Two Poems: San Jeronimo Brook & [in English and Spanish] Fair Andes! Thy arms reach highOf iron-woven solid stone Thu art a condor to the skyOf glory hidden in thy heartSo many paths, a maze of art?In thy old, Mantaro ValleyWhere adobes, breathe and tremble Beyond your rustic shadowsThere lays the prettiest of brooksIs my heart, within its stream!My image deeply carved, rippledIn its undiluted shallow watersWaiting, just waiting for me?As it opens up, opens up my soulMy rippled soul-searching-eyes!.. Tsunami Day A Poem - By Lorraine KemberIt was a day like any other and mother, father, sister, brother, were carrying out the customs of their land. When suddenly without warning, Mother Nature came calling, shook the earth and stole the ocean from the sand. Two Poems Written During Recovery Since my wife and I are moving, or preparing to move, we've been going through our things as most people must, to prepare for the new location, and in doing so, I found two poems, ones I wrote in 1990, now 15-years old, never published, and so I'd like to publish them today. I was a heavy drinker up to 1984 (some twenty years drinking), when I quite, and so these poems must have something to do with it, a slight reflection perhaps. Song of the Great Zimbabwe, and Silver and Inca Blood [Poems and notes] "Song of the Great Zimbabwe"Across the African, winter's skyIn the Southern edge of Zimbabwe Looking down from the Hill ComplexFrom on top, of an Ancient Rock O'er the mountains steep-:A, vista I've longed to see, residesA site, I've longed to meet-; Thus, dwells, within this African Valley,Among the greatest of man's feats? The great, Great Zimbabwe (Enclosure).A million-stones, built these ancient wallsSome twelve-fathoms, fathoms high That seems to reach unto the sky;Some say: a fortress, and palace, it is; And perhaps-, the legendary 'Ophir!'#747 7/2/05Silver and Inca BloodIn the Great Silver mines of Potosi-(Inca Indians) Conscripted mine workersCarry Quotas of ore-up hundreds of feetOf rope laddered-steps For don Francisco de ToledoAnd King Philip II, of Spain-;A farcified vision to becomeRich-off Inca blood, In the year-1571?#744 7/1/05Notes: (The Inca Empire): the assumption is often that the Inca Empire was a large enterprise of its self; a common mistake at best; complicated for sure; but for the most part, the Inca Empire was comprised of ethnic groups who were subjugated into the Inca Empire, similar to the Roman, which was a city nation [Empire] you might say, who subjugated the whole world into its Roman Empire; likewise, so did the Incas of South America. My Final Defeat - Fixed Competition She probably can't remember and I know I can never forget.. Mother, I Dont Mind The Pain I am among those who know that one never recovers from the loss of one deeply loved. We come to accept the death and adjust our lives - rather begrudingly, but we do not recover, we survive. Publishing Your Poetry If you are serious about seeing your work published by reputable publishers, there are a few points you should consider. Firstly and most obviously, you need to determine if you have poetry worth publishing. Learn About Love From Poet Rumi In this modern age of technology, busy lifestyles, and obsession with consumerism have taken a lot of the romance and love out of our lives. The Internet has become a medium to connect with people as everyone is finding it a lot harder to meet one another in the 'real' world. Shadows of the Andes; Ollantayambo; and Cesar Vallejo [Poems in English and Spanish] 1) Shadows of the Andes [or: Song to the Andes]I shall blend-in, into theMountains- Into the faintest thinShadowsof the mountains! Like the moss on moistenedStoneLike a leaf blown far fromHome?(freshly fallen)!I shall blend-in, clingingTo the mountains- Into its faintest thinShadowsNote: when I arrived back home from Peru, my 7th trip in five years [April, 2005], I had spend about 30-days this time on the trip. I visited the Mantaro Valley, Huancayo, and drove through the Andes. Lamenting Poetic Moods [six Poems] Advance: in Mr. Siluk's poetry one finds symbolist values, sensuous impressions; verbal magic and even childish jingles; at times the popular 8-syllable verse (ballad metre). Its What She Didnt Say When I hear your voice inside my head it makes me think of you every single day as I fight back tears of sadness and wonder if you're okayMy life is empty without you I wish time would take away the pain but the ache in my heart persists and my simple hopes seem in vainI realize how much I hurt you and now I know it's too late to tell you how sorry I am and expect you not to hateI don't deserve a second chance to show you how much I care when you needed me the most I know I failed to be thereNow your trust in me is gone forever and I will never have the chance to say I really hope your dreams come true and happiness finds you every dayI would give almost anything in life if I could go back to that day and erase everything I said and did to make your heartache go awayWhat hurts the most is this is what you didn't say and the absence of these words haunt me each and every day..
|
| Article List | Index | Site Map |
|
All logos, trademarks and articles on this site are property and copyright of their respective owner(s).
The comments are property of their posters, all the rest is Copyright © 2006 CanadaSEEK.com - All Rights Reserved. |
