Back from foreign climes, I have to take in the unastounding news that the Forward Prize has been won by a certain Don Paterson (BTW, is that 'Don' as in 'Don Corleone'?). What the criteria were I don't know, though judge David Harsent did praise the winner of the Best Single Poem prize by saying "It's just knee-weakeningly good". As it happens, I already have weak knees from an old sports injury, so I'm not interested in poems that would make them any weaker. The poem in question was by Robin Robertson, and according to The Guardian:
"...Paterson and Robertson have now each won three Forward prizes... Sean O'Brien became the first poet to win all three prizes in 2007."
In the words of Private Eye, "The small but perfectly-formed world of British poetry just got a little smaller".
Saturday, October 17, 2009
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3 comments:
well
it s both there and here
all soooooo
clubbbiiieeeee
what?
one tends towards yawning and nodding
off...
Poetry:
It s
all
about
me
there goes Hyslop again - a sledgehammer to crack a soft boiled egg
I'd say Don Paterson and friends were more hard-boiled. BTW I've noticed that Paterson, O'Brazen and Robertson are all Picador poets. Coincidence?
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