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Author Archives: A S H Smyth

From my father’s marginalia on TS Eliot

‘What the devil does this mean?’ – TS Eliot, note in Edmund Husserl’s Logische Untersuchungen Pagan spring about to be replaced cf. feathers in Gerontion This a prayer – the old securities will collapse. No guarantee for children on acc. of his piety. Period between death and rebirth. Prefiguring of passion + cross. Calvary. Eliot […]

NB – To the driver of the ice-cream van

If you drive around here one more time while I am listening to Beethoven I swear I will come for you. Yours, etc.

jus sayin’

jus soli jus sanguinis jus poetarum (jus sayin’)

Eight debut novels

Currently sitting at 12 to 1 for this year’s Booker Prize, first-time novelist Paul Kingsnorth has set the cat among the pigeons through the disarmingly original expedient of submitting his offering in a fictional language. Composed in what Kingsnorth calls the ‘shadow tongue’ of ‘eald anglisc’, The Wake (Unbound 365pp £16.99) explores one angle of […]

Brilliant idea for a short story, last night:

Anyone remember what it was?

O, ye women disporting yourselves upon blankets!

O, ye women disporting yourselves upon blankets! Please stop it. I’ve work to do.

End of the Line

The Narrow Road to the Deep North By Richard Flanagan (Chatto & Windus 448pp £16.99) ‘We will die, and who will ever understand any of this?’ So asks Colonel Dorrigo Evans, second in command of the Australian Imperial Force’s 2/7th Casualty Clearing Station, slave worker on the Siam–Burma ‘Death Railway’, and redoubtable hero of Richard […]

Hen-do

When my fiancée went out to her hen-do (the first one) I stayed at home, watched some rugby, wrote a poem, and did the dishes.

To the agony aunt at The Lancet

Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does my chestbone crack?!

Fragment (after Sappho)

no more for me the honey or the bee (i.e. thee)