| Title | : | Leaving the Shade of the Middle Ground: The Poetry of F.R. Scott (Laurier Poetry) |
| Author | : | |
| Rating | : | |
| ISBN | : | 1554583675 |
| ISBN-10 | : | 9781554583676 |
| Language | : | English |
| Format Type | : | Paperback |
| Number of Pages | : | 80 |
| Publication | : | First published September 1, 2011 |
Leaving the Shade of the Middle Ground contains thirty-five of F.R. Scott’s poems from across the five decades of his career. Scott’s artistic responses to a litany of social problems, as well as his emphasis on nature and landscapes, remain remarkably relevant. Scott weighed in on many issues important to Canadians today, using different terms, perhaps, but with no less urgency than we feel biopolitics, neoliberalism, environmental concerns, genetic modification, freedom of speech, civil rights, human rights, and immigration. Scott is best remembered for “The Canadian Authors Meet,” “W.L.M.K,” and “Laurentian Shield,” but his poetic oeuvre includes significant occasional poems, elegies, found poems, and pointed satires. This selection of poems showcases the politics, the humour, and the beauty of this central modernist figure. The introduction by Laura Moss and the afterword by George Elliott Clarke provide two distinct approaches to reading Scott’s in the contexts of Canadian modernism and of contemporary literary history, respectively.
Leaving the Shade of the Middle Ground: The Poetry of F.R. Scott (Laurier Poetry) Reviews
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In the dark room, under a cone of light,
You precisely play the Mozart sonata. The bright
Clear notes fly like sparks through the air
And trace a flickering pattern of music there.
Your hands dart in the light, your fingers flow.
They are ten careful operatives in a row
That pick their packets of sound from steel bars
Constructing harmonies as sharp as stars.
But how shall I hear old music? That is an hour
Of new beginnings, concepts warring for power,
Decay of systems - the tissue of art is torn
With overtures of an era being born.
And this perfection which is less yourself
Than Mozart, seems a trinket on a shelf,
A pretty octave played before a window
Beyond whose curtain grows a world crescendo.- Overture, pg. 1
* * *
Miranda's undiminished
By any sense of sin,
She does not circumscribe herself.
The thoughts her mind puts on
And all her pretty whimsies
Emancipated run,
She has no system but herself,
No ether but her own.
She's saner than September,
More single than the sky.
I do not think that someone
Could lover her more than I.
I saw her on a Sunday
So maiden on a path
It was a peal of laughter
To understand her worth.
That night the thing that happened
Would set an aunt to stare:
We lay distinct as spinsters
Yet close as kisses are.
And on the Monday morning
By none but poplars seen
We hung out clothes on tree-tops.
Less maiden, but more mine,
We shared our joy in daylight
Beneath a leafy sun.
Perhaps there was a squirrel
Saw us - but he has gone.- Miranda, pg. 15
* * *
The British troops at the Dardanelles
Were blown to bits by British shells
Sold to the Turks by Vickers.
And many a brave Canadian youth
Will shed his blood on foreign shores,
And die for Democracy, Freedom, Truth,
With his body full of Canadian ores,
Canadian nickel, lead, and scrap,
Sold to the German, sold to the Jap,
With Capital watching the tickers.- Lest We Forget, pg. 26
* * *
The key person in the whole business
I said raising my Martini damn that woman
she didn't look where she was going sorry
it won't stain the key person what? oh it's
you Georgina no I won't be there tomorrow
see you some day the key person in the whole
business is not the one oh hello James yes
we're having a wonderful time not the one you
love but it's no thank you no more just now
not the one you love but it's the one who
does the hell's bells there's a stone in my olive- Martinigram, pg. 39
* * *
Here is a child, a small American girl-child, age fourteen,
Who has shot a lion. In Africa.
Far from her home in Morristown, New Jersey.
And she has shot a gnu, a wart-hog, and an elephant.
How shall we deal with her? Sir John Myrtle-Jenkinson
Shot lions in Africa in the days of the British,
But he was building an Empire. It was a man's job,
And he was a man, firm and philistine,
The Rule of Law in the deepest jungle,
And a black tie in a crisis.
Even the lions were proud
To pose with him for the Illustrated London News.
His was no idle slaughter, but the planting of the Flag,
The erection of the Cross, and the sale of cotton pants.
But this slip or a girl was on holiday from school.
She had not yet entered grade ten.
She killed innocently, unconsciously, as a tourist
Might stop to buy a postcard of Notre Dame.
She does not understand her summer trip
Dries up the sources of the fabulous Nile
And shoots great holes through all the myths of Europe.- Picture in "Life", pg. 42
* * *
From bitter searching of the heart,
Quickened with passion and with pain
We rise to play a greater part.
This is the faith from which we start:
Men shall know commonwealth again
From bitter searching of the heart.
We loved the easy and the smart,
But now, with keener hand and brain,
We rise to play a greater part.
The lesser loyalties depart,
And neither race nor creed remain
From bitter searching of the heart.
Not steering by the venal chart
That tricked the mass for private gain,
We rise to play a greater part.
Reshaping narrow law and art
Whose symbols are the millions slain,
From bitter searching of the heart
We rise to play a greater part.- Villanelle for Our Time, pg. 60
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What I have read so far:
September 14 2019: “The Canadian Authors Meet”, “Martinigram”, “Bonne Entente”, “Overture”, “Lakeshore”, “Incident at May Pond” & the Introduction by Laura Moss
September 19 2019: “Social Notes I”, “My Amoeba Is Unaware”, “Lest We Forget”, “Audacity”, “To Certain Friends”, “Villanelle for Our Time” and “Mural”
