small delights

After a frustrating meeting yesterday, I called in unannounced at the office where I worked briefly a couple of years ago. I was surprised to be greeted by one ex-colleague with “I was going to call you!” We had never been close while I was there, and our only contact had been through work, but her next sentence explained, “I bought one of your books.”

Not wanting to get my hopes up, I asked which one. (There is only one that is really mine, as the others are translations. I’m pleased to have my name on them, but it isn’t quite the same.)

“Pompas!”


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maths matters

"el pollo, si 100% pollo, dos veces pollo"
It doesn't add up

Well, maths matters to me, which is why it bothered me when I saw this advert in Madrid.

The caption echoes a Spanish refrán, though I’m not sure which is the original version. I’ve found both “Lo bueno, si breve, dos veces bueno” (attributed to Baltasar Gracián), and “Lo bueno, si barato, dos veces bueno”.

Both are valid points, but in the Burger King ad, the sums don’t add up: Chicken, if it’s 100% chicken, is not twice chicken.

Gracián’s phrase is best translated as “Less is more”, and is excellent advice for writers. A more literal translation would be, “If it’s good, and it’s short, it’s doubly good.”

The quote is often followed up with something to the effect that “lo malo, si breve, no tan malo.” – “if it’s bad, and it’s short, it’s not so bad.”

Either way, I’d better stop now.

forbidden words II

I’ve no time at the moment to write what I want to about geographical limits to poetry and how far we should dumb down for our (international) readers – a follow on from my doubts and the comments about gossamer.

So instead, I’ve dug out the piece I wrote as a response to the usenet challenge to write a poem including the words – love / soul (or spirit) / insane / shard / tendril / darkness – or variations from the same roots (e.g. as ‘insanity’). It’s an old piece and it’s not the best poem I’ve ever written. Even so, I admit to being fond of it, and of Aunt Emmeline.
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forbidden words

When I posted the poem returning, a while back, I’ll admit that it wasn’t because I think it’s particularly good. It just seemed to suit the mood and the weather.

One of the problems I see with it is the “poesy”: the self-conscious and unnecessary use of poetic words. I think that including the word gossamer and the phrase in her wake is pretty much unforgivable in so short a piece. The latter could easily be replaced by behind her without losing any of the meaning. After all, whoever “she” is, she’s almost certainly not a boat.
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nine lives

A friend has told me that, before he started discussing poetry with me – by which he probably means before he started listening to me rant about it – he thought poetry was mostly about “kittens”. By which he definitely means hearts-and-flowers and Hallmark-style fluffy kittens.

There is far too much bad cat poetry out there. I don’t mean Roger McGough’s Bad, Bad Cats, which contains gems such as The Cats’ Protection League; I mean the self-indulgent, fluffy stuff that gets me ranting about poetry.
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