Title | : | Selected Poems |
Author | : | |
Rating | : | |
ISBN | : | 0195432576 |
ISBN-10 | : | 9780195432572 |
Language | : | English |
Format Type | : | Hardcover |
Number of Pages | : | 180 |
Publication | : | First published January 1, 1966 |
defended civil rights, and whose knowledge of the law is equalled by his passion for justice; and he is a political and social philosopher who helped form the CCF and New Democratic Parties, and who is now a member of the Royal Commission on Bilingualism and Biculturalism. Readers who have been
moved and entertained by his poetry in previous books and in innumerable journals will welcome this bringing together of his best work in one volume. Readers new to his work (if there are any in Canada) will discover a rare combination of wit, intellect, and compassion - 'an informed mind perfectly
co-ordinated with a civilized heart.'
Selected Poems Reviews
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"Our springing steps repeat / The flowers at our feet."
In the course of reading F. R. Scott's Selected Poems, I realized that I had encountered "Examiner" in high school. (#MrNewton) And it was a poem I had completely forgotten about. But reading it, again, I had a doubled sensation of joy, the first being a new joy and the second being a remembrance of an old joy.
Anyway, this is a very good collection.
There are very obvious divisions between his writings which generally fall into two categories, nature writing and social/political criticism. I would argue that the nature stuff is much more interesting. But the political writing is delightfully ironic and irreverent and biting. There is a beautiful moment in "'Orderly Decontrol' 1947" where Scott writes, "Thus we achieve / Incentives to build the luxury homes and apartments / Fit for heroes to look at." It is a sad, subtle little moment emphasizing Scott's socialist leanings. If only heroes could LIVE in luxury homes...
I really only have a bunch of positive things to say about this collection, other than that the political stuff can get tedious, at times. So, I'm just going to reprint his poem, "Finis the Cenci":
Beatrice, on the high wooden throne,
Surveys the crowded square, the priests, the cross
Before her eyes. She kisses Christ's five wounds.
Beside her, as a sign, her mother's head
Bleeds in the dust. Her brother waits his turn.
She does not let
Those hands approach, but lays aside
Her veil and bodice in so swift a throw
That not a girlish breast is seen
By all the staring multitude
Before she floods her mother.
This is her public modesty, who knew
A father's rape
A father's eye
The driven nail
Her father's blood.
Later they slowly broke her brother's bones.
4 Glittering Pains out of 5