{"id":211,"date":"2015-07-17T10:44:57","date_gmt":"2015-07-17T10:44:57","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/francesthomas.org\/blog\/?p=211"},"modified":"2015-07-17T10:44:57","modified_gmt":"2015-07-17T10:44:57","slug":"211","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/francesthomas.org\/blog\/?p=211","title":{"rendered":""},"content":{"rendered":"<p><a href=\"http:\/\/francesthomas.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/07\/Edward_Thomas.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-214\" alt=\"Edward_Thomas\" src=\"http:\/\/francesthomas.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/07\/Edward_Thomas-231x300.jpg\" width=\"231\" height=\"300\" srcset=\"http:\/\/francesthomas.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/07\/Edward_Thomas-231x300.jpg 231w, http:\/\/francesthomas.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/07\/Edward_Thomas.jpg 371w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 231px) 100vw, 231px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>I&#8217;ve just been reading with great enjoyment \u00a0the new biography of Edward Thomas by Jean Moorcroft Wilson. I&#8217;ve written about Thomas before,\u00a0 after we visited his grave last year. He&#8217;s a difficult and complicated person who somehow draws you back and back again to his poems;\u00a0 deceptively calm, they give you that sense of encountering something familiar that you recognise instantly, dusty nettles in the corner of a yard, a tiny railway station glimpsed in passing, a road gleaming after rain, making you feel that he&#8217;s writing for you personally.\u00a0 There&#8217;s something about their quiet strength that reminds me of the work of Eric Ravillious, whose work we visited the Dulwich gallery last week to see; both use pastel colours, sometimes radiant , sometimes sombre, turning a keen gaze upon the everyday and apparently banal. Ravillious too gives you the sense of transmuting your own experience, \u00a0a third-class railway carriage (even for those too young to remember them) a greenhouse full of cyclamen,\u00a0 into something timeless and archetypical.\u00a0 And both men, the writer and the painter, demonstrate a quality usually described as &#8216;quintessentially English.&#8217; To try and describe what this means would require a whole other blog post, would have to take in music, Elgar and Vaughan\u00a0 Williams as well, and I fear would be beyond my fairly puny critical powers, so I shall leave it at that.<\/p>\n<p>I&#8217;ve chosen one of my favourite Thomas poems, &#8216;Words&#8217;, in which he uses the conceit that words choose the writer rather than the other way around.\u00a0 But Thomas&#8217;s choice of words, and his ability to position them so as to draw out their cadences,\u00a0 is exquisite. Who else, in &#8216;Adlestrop&#8217; could make the names of two English counties into one of the most beautiful lines in\u00a0poetry?<\/p>\n<div>\n<p>\u00a0Words<\/p>\n<p><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" alt=\"\" src=\"http:\/\/www.poetry-archive.com\/o_pic.gif\" width=\"25\" height=\"26\" align=\"BOTTOM\" border=\"0\" \/>UT of us all<\/p>\n<p>That make rhymes<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<div>Will you choose<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Sometimes&#8211;<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0As the winds use<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0A crack in the wall<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Or a drain<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Their joy or their pain<\/div>\n<div><\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0To whistle through<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Choose me<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 You English words?<\/div>\n<div><\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I know you<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 You are light as dreams<\/div>\n<div>,\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Tough as oak,<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Precious as gold,<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0As poppies and corn<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Or an old cloak;<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Sweet as our birds<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 to the ear,<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0As the burnet rose<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0In the heat<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Of Midsummer<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Strange as the races<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Of dead and unborn:<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Strange and sweet<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Equally,<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And familiar,<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0To the eye<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 As the dearest faces<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 That a man knows<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And as lost homes are:<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0But though older far<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Than oldest yew<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 As our hills are, old<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Worn new<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Again and again:<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Young as our streams<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 After rain:<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And as dear<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 As the earth which you prove<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0That we love<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Make me content<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0With some sweetness<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 From Wales,<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Whose nightingales<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Have no wings<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 From Wiltshire and Kent<\/div>\n<div><\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And Herefordshire,<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0And the villages there,&#8211;<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0From the names, and the things<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0No less<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Let me sometimes dance<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0With you<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Or climb,<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Or stand perchance<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 In ecstasy<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Fixed and free<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0In a rhyme,<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0As poets do.<\/div>\n<div><\/div>\n<div>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Edward Thomas<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>I&#8217;ve just been reading with great enjoyment \u00a0the new biography of Edward Thomas by Jean Moorcroft Wilson. I&#8217;ve written about Thomas before,\u00a0 after we visited his grave last year. He&#8217;s a difficult and complicated person who somehow draws you back and back again to his poems;\u00a0 deceptively calm, they give you that sense of encountering [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-211","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/francesthomas.org\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/211","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/francesthomas.org\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/francesthomas.org\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/francesthomas.org\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/francesthomas.org\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=211"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"http:\/\/francesthomas.org\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/211\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":218,"href":"http:\/\/francesthomas.org\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/211\/revisions\/218"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/francesthomas.org\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=211"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/francesthomas.org\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=211"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/francesthomas.org\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=211"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}