The Frank Skinner Show - Frank Skinner's Poetry Podcast: Stevie Smith and William Carlos Williams

Episode Date: April 22, 2020

Frank Skinner loves poetry. And he thinks you might like it too. So he’s started a new podcast, all about poetry. Here’s the first episode, where Frank delves into Stevie Smith's 'Not Waving But Drowning', and William Carlos Williams' 'Dance Russe'. To hear more episodes as they’re released, subscribe to Frank Skinner’s Poetry Podcast now.

Hello and welcome to Frank Skinner's Poetry Podcast. It's me talking about poetry. I'm not going to sell you anything that you're not going to get. That's what it is and I'm doing it because I love poetry. But also, no, that's the only reason I'm doing it, to be completely straight. I really developed my love of poetry as a student at Birmingham Polytechnic. So that's going to give you a sort of an inclination of the sort of level I'm going to be operating at. Today I want to look at a couple of poems and contrast and compare, as they used to say on the old O-level exam papers. First one I want to talk about is, it's a poem by Stevie Smith called Not Waving But Drowning. It was written in 1957, as was I, in a metaphorical sense.

Stevie Smith is really interesting. It's not a bloke, by the way, it's a woman. And her poetry has got a strange, it's like a ballad. And it, to me, it has a sort of profoundly English pagan oddness about it. They seem often quite simple and sometimes a bit rubbish. And then when you read them and really get into the world of Stevie Smith, I think they can get a bit excellent. This one is probably her most famous poem ever. And it's called Not Waving But Drowning. Now, have I already said that? Oh, look, who cares? In 1963, Stevie Smith wrote a novel called Novel on Yellow Paper. And she said in there, and I quote,

This is a foot off the ground novel. And if you are a foot on the ground kind of person, this book will be for you a desert of weariness and exasperation. It's kind of a bit how I feel I should sell this podcast. What is a foot on the ground person? A foot on the ground person who I think is, I'll tell you, I'll tell you what it is. I once saw a naked bike ride going over Waterloo Bridge in central London. Just naked people on bicycles, big people, small people, beautiful people, less beautiful people. And I thought it was a really fantastic image of the human spirit. And there was a family standing

next to me, a guy and a woman and two kids. And the guys looked at the bike ride and said, looked at the looked at the bike ride and said uh weirdos and there i think is the two categories of humanity those who are on those bikes naked and uh the one who just couldn't cope with that level of um freedom so i'm gonna start by reading i Shall I read the whole poem or should I just read the first bit? It's quite short. I don't want to stifle you early on. I'm going to blast it out. Here we go. Not waving but drowning.

Nobody heard him, the dead man. But still he lay moaning. I was much further out than you thought. And not waving but drowning. Poor chap, he always loved larking, and now he's dead. Must have been too cold for him, his heart gave way, they said. Oh, no, no, no, it was too cold always.

Still the dead one lay moaning. I was much too far out all my life and not waving but drowning so if we take that that first um you probably know that each sort of lump of poetry in within a poem is called a stanza it's just it's a kind of a poet's paragraph, if that's what you want. So it begins, nobody heard him, the dead man. And I think straight off we're into this Stevie Smith world. Is there any literal truth in this or is it just poetic truth? Is there a real dead man who's really dead?

And if so, how is he speaking? Or is death in this poem, is it something else? Is it a sort of just non-involvement in life? What's to hear from a dead man? What are they going to say? Anyway, so he's much further out than you thought. That's what he said, I was much further out than you thought. That's what he said. I was much further out than you thought. And that could be, I think, that he's separated from others, that he is an outsider. He's been an outsider forever. He's one of those guys who you see around but you never speak to.

Or, on the literal level, again, he was swimming too far from the coast and that's dangerous. But you can see that it's not going to be. On the literal level, again, he was swimming too far from the coast and that's dangerous. But you can see that it's not going to be. I don't think this is a sort of coast guard message poem. That seems unlikely to me. Can I say it's very superficial of me, but a really brilliant title to a poem. It does draw me in. I think Not Waving But but drowning is is a great

title the reason i think that is the physical similarity of waving and someone throwing their arms about in the water because they're drowning is actually not that dissimilar but psychologically there is an enormous chasm obviously there's there's this the joy of seeing someone you recognize and all that the love in the air and then the horror of your whole life this is what they say about droning, flashing before you. I think this poem is partly about who we are and how other people see us and the enormous discrepancy between those two things. There's an image, isn't there, of a phone box, a man in a phone box I think I can just about get away with using this image because there are still some phone boxes around I mean the closed ones you know those red ones with the door and the theory is that human communication is a bit like

watching someone in a phone box you're standing outside. You might catch the odd word if their voice is raised loud enough. You see some gestures, some facial expressions, but you can't hear the other voice, see what they're responding to. So you're really having to piece together as best you can what is going on. And I think the absurdist playwright Eugene Ionesco, I think it was him, said that that is basically what human communication is like. You're picking up bits, you're guessing, you're squinting a bit to see exactly what they mean and what they're getting at. getting at. I'll tell you what I'm getting at then. The middle stanza of this poem, the middle lump of poetry, is the voice of those on the shore, if you like, no longer the dead man's voice. And I'll repeat it. It goes, poor chap, he always loved larking and now he's dead. It must have been too cold for him. His heart gave away, they said.

I don't know if this chap always loved larking. I love larking as a verb, a verb of general ebullience and enjoyment. Did he always love larking or did these people not really know him at all? It reminds me a bit of when somebody kills seven or eight people and you get interviews with the neighbors and they say well he was always such a you know quiet bloke kept himself to himself and you think you didn't know him you never really made an effort with him and um maybe that's why he became desolate and aggressive i'm not blaming the neighbours in these cases, obviously,

if there's any neighbours of serial killers tuning in. You'll notice, by the way, or maybe you didn't, but there's a different rhythm for that middle stanza. Poor chap, he always loved larking and now he's dead. Must have been too cold from his heart gave away, they said. And I think that is Stevie Smith giving a different rhythm to a different voice because this is the crowd talking, if you like, rather than the dead man himself. So I don't know if you always love Larkin.

It says nobody heard him, the dead man. That's the first phrase in the poem. And maybe they never heard him the dead man that's the first phrase in the poem and and maybe they never heard him maybe that they never heard him say anything i should interject at this point that the certain poems appeal to you often on on a personal level uh when people say to me what is the best thing about celebrity obviously they don't say as much as they did. But when they did, is it money or is it becoming suddenly attractive, the fame? I thought it was being noticed.

I was really, I never was much noticed before. And just being heard was tremendously exhilarating experience. And here's an example of a guy who I don't think has been heard. As it's said, nobody heard him, the dead man. I don't think they ever heard him. I don't think it's just when he's moaning there. So let's look at that last answer again. Oh, no, no, no, it was too cold always, still the dead one lay moaning.

I was much too far out all my life and not waving but drowning. Look, I think I like this poem because I have been too far out all my life. I don't mean far out as in 1960s psychedelia. I mean I am a distant um a distant character I acknowledge that it's took me a long time to acknowledge it but yes it is true you'll hear paper moving about in this as well far out all his life. And now it's a moment of regret. As I say, they say that your life flashes before you when you're drowning. And I think it's given him a chance to assess. to assess and he fell into that trap of being distanced, being a loner, et cetera, et cetera. I really like Stevie Smith's poetry and I'd recommend others.

In fact, I will. In Felice is one I really like. Strange, again, like an odd fairy tale type world she creates i discovered her incidentally by um i was just flicking through tv channels late at night and i came across a movie called stevie i i had heard of stevie smith um but i didn't really know her poetry and it starred glenda jackson as stevie smith so i tuned in for Glenda I'll be honest I've always been an enormous fan of hers not always for the right reasons and that was when I you know this poem features obviously and I got slightly hooked on her. The second poem I want to look at is called Danse Russe by William Carlos Williams. It was written in 1916. We're going back a bit today. We'll go back further sometimes.

Sometimes we'll be really on our contemporary doorstep in these pods. I'm going to call them pods now. The double syllable is getting on my nerves. William Carlos Williams, I think, is an amazing poet. This is a poem, as I say, called Dance Russe, which I think means Russian dance. It's OK. I wasn't drawn in by this title. I'll be upfront about that. So let's begin. I have to say, though, I know I have poems that somehow mirror me or move me mentally one way or another. I'm attracted to a lot of poems.

One of the reasons I like poems is I think all poetry is an intermingling of your thoughts and feelings with the poet's thoughts and feelings I don't think I can read the same poem that you can read I think when I read Not Waving But Drowning I'm reading something different because I'm it's a two-way street it's a tennis game there's I'm there's some of me involved in the reading of it as well as some of stevie smith and when you read it it'll be it'll be different again there is a greek philosopher isn't there who said you can't step into the same river twice because obviously it's changing and things and i don't think that um you can uh that people can read the same poem. That's what I think. This is Dance Russe by William Carlos Williams.

I am going to do this in chunks because it's my podcast. I'll do what I like. So it begins, If I... Well, we're off, aren't we? If I... If someone begins a sentence, If I, well, we're off, aren't we? If I, if someone begins a sentence, if I, I mean, for example, if I, well, there you have it. I think there's a, you really want the verb and you want it quick in that sentence if you what if you what if i walked up to someone uh and said to them i just a stranger and i said if i i think they'd be edgy straight away if i told you i loved you

if i confessed that i stole the scream from a north European gallery, something like that. So he grabs us straight away, if I. I'll go on. If I, when my wife is sleeping and the baby and Kathleen are sleeping. So whatever he's talking about, the verb in the if I, he only, it seems, he's only able to do it when he's when the family is sleeping it's a secret thing that he doesn't want to do uh when someone might burst in with a cup of coffee so we're even more the mystery has increased further i. I read a couple of online analyses of this poem

just by, you know, readers. And one of them says, oh, clearly the family, he's killed the family. And I can't find that in it. But again, like I say, two people can't read the same poem. So if I, when my wife is sleeping and the baby and Kathleen are sleeping, we don't know who Kathleen is, but, you know, it's fine,

and the sun is a flame-white disc in silken mists above shining trees, what happened then? Two things, I think. First of all, morning is breaking. The sun is a flame-white disc. It's shining above the trees. It's just coming up. And because he only wants to do this when they're sleeping, it seems,

that gives it a bit of tension. Hurry up and get it over with because they'll be awake soon is the subtext of this. But also, if we take those two sections if we take if i when my wife is sleeping and the baby and kathleen are sleeping that's very that could be uh a text that you got from a from a friend it's very um straightforward whereas straightforward. Whereas, and the sun is a flame white disc in silken mists above shining trees. That's poetry. I know poetry. I mean, poetry with a capital P. It also does that thing of delaying the if I verb. We still don't know what it is that he's that he's thinking of doing or that he's gonna

tell us about is he using poetry as just another delaying method here i don't know but i i like the way he springs it in because descriptions of sunrise is a poetic convention and i think he's enjoying that fact. Okay, back to him. If I, and we repeat it again, like we'd forgotten. If I, in my north room, wow. Now that, now we're being delayed by details of place. We've had the people sleeping, so context. We've had time, morning is breaking breaking through and now we've got geography if i in my north room we still don't know what he's going to do there but something's going to

happen the north room has got a bit of god i am so gonna start calling uh the the attic in my house where I work, where I sit now, in fact. I sit here speaking into a microphone, looking at my laptop. I don't have a desk. It's all on top of the linen basket. That's how I operate. I do have a desk, but it it's covered in stuff I lied about not having one so come on what is it what's he gonna do in the north room so here we go if I in my north room dance naked grotesquely before my mirror waving my shirt around my head. Whoa. So I don't know about you, I was expecting a sly anti-climax because he's built it up, the if I so much, but no, he's dancing naked grotesquely and waving his shirt round his head. I mean, it's absolute freedom and elation. And I love that. I love the grotesquely that he uses, because I think it's very beautiful, this image of a man dancing naked, grotesquely, waving his shirt over his head.

I think it's beautiful because it isn't beautiful. I'm imagining him as a bit like when I dance naked, waving my shirt above my head like that. When I looked, the anthology that I had this poem in originally had a bit of background info. I'm always wary about biographical and background info to poems i like them to kind of exist uh independently of everything um usually that could be an error on my part doesn't always work but ballet ruse the russian ballet company were were in uh new york city where and william carlos williams lived that year

uh 1916 they performed there with uh nijinsky who you might have heard our very famous uh ballet dancer so famous he had a racehorse named after him and how many of us can say that i have an idea how to whip it named after me, but this is neither the time nor the place to go into that. The reason I don't read up much on poems, anyone who knows a lot about poetry has probably already been thinking, this guy doesn't know what he's talking about. But it's like when I go to an art gallery,

I like to look at a painting for two or three minutes, soak it up, have an to look at a painting for, you know, two or three minutes, soak it up, have an emotional response to a painting before I look at that label on the side that tells me what the painting's about. Because I don't, I don't want to be told. I read it afterwards, but I don't want to be robbed of my own response. And that is, I guess, why if I do read up on a poem, I don't do it until I've read the poem myself several times. By the way, you've got to read a poem several times. That's the deal.

You've got to. And I'm not having any arguing. So that's that. Now, so he's dancing grotesquely naked in his room. By the way, can I just tell you the ballet thing? I once went to a ballet in Birmingham. I'm not a fan. You notice I'm speeding up now because I don't know if this anecdote should be here, but I'm sharing it. And there was it was it was a contemporary dance thing. I'm not into it, but, you know, I'll try anything arty.

And they were amazing, but I wasn't moved by it. There was a man, an older man, but probably younger than I am now, big guy in my row, and he was clearly asleep. He wasn't snoring, but he had that breathing that only the sleeping have, which is somewhere short of snoring, but still it's a tremendous sign of sleep. sign of sleep. And then he, the sleeping man, suddenly broke wind, as I once heard Kenneth Williams describe it, with alarming ferocity. And it was an awful moment for us all. But my friend, I remember, gestured towards the stage and said to me, the body in control, and then gestured to the man and said, the body out of control. And maybe that's the kind of thing we're talking about here,

except in this particular instance, the fat farting man is centre stage and the beautiful ones are are not invited and that appeals to me i think this is partly about this this poem about the things one does when unobserved you know people talk about that a bit they talk about the fact that in the shower what they sing and stuff like that but that's not a big confession is it you know when know, when I'm on the toilet, for the last 10 years, whenever I've been sat on the toilet, I pretend to be the player manager of Barcelona FC and I give a press conference. So there.

So we all do weird things when we're on our own. And this is, I think, this guy behaving as he would only do on his own, but sharing it in a poem. So thus breaking down the privacy that gives us security. And then comes the true wonder of this poem for me. Listen to this. Waving my shirt round my head and singing softly to myself, I am lonely, lonely.

I was born to be lonely. I am best so. Okay, he's used the L word. Now, I think that is a word that a lot of people, they don't even want to think about. I think loneliness is a very, still a taboo subject. You know, we thought when this guy was naked that he'd stripped away a lot of the surface coverings,

but now he's actually singing and dancing about his own loneliness. That's fairly phenomenal. The reason I discovered this poem, by the way, is a friend emailed it to me and said, I think this is very you. So when I read this bit, I did think back to it. My identifying jingle on on on my absolute radio radio show is a clip of uh the loneliest man in the world if you know that song but i've always identified with it i was a lonely

child um i'm a bit like the drowned man i was probably too far out my whole life. But loneliness, as well as terrifying me, also has a strange lure for me. I know people are going to say, oh, no, that's the difference between lonely and being alone. Yeah, I don't buy that distinction. I think if you have to buy it with the pain of loneliness. That is the deal. So this William Carlos Williams protagonist is actually celebrating his loneliness, which is fab. Can I say about the grotesque element? I don't think beautiful people could dance like this with this kind of abandon because the mirror would become their audience, I think. And here, the mirror is just for him.

He doesn't want to share this. He doesn't want to look good. He just wants to see his own ecstasy. That's what I would say. Anyway, rounding off this poem, he says in the last couple of lines, Who shall say I am not the happy genius of my household? So it's an incredibly happy poem in many ways, even though it is a man singing about his own loneliness. We know he's not alone because we know he's got a wife and a kid

and let's not forget Kathleen, who's also in the house in the house it seems i think that he dances to celebrate what everyone in a long loving relationship celebrates the agreed absence of the other i think i'm guessing and again i'm totally imposing my own own life on this that this is probably a new baby and he's doing that thing he's got to work the next day and so he's sleeping in the spare room and you can be consumed by a family unit you can be consumed by a baby you can be consumed by a relationship and I think what he's doing here in this little bit of private kingdom is celebrating the fact that he is still himself, he is still an individual. Walt Whitman sang a song of himself, celebrating himself. And I think that's what this is. And within the context of a marriage, of a relationship, of a family, it's a very important thing. Rilke, the German

poet, said of relationships that we should be the guardians of each other's solitude. And I have always felt that to be true. And I once went out with a woman when I rolled over in bed, thus turning my back to her. She used to go, huh, charming. And I need someone who will give me some isolation, someone who will let me escape into myself. And this guy has done that, I think. I think he's in the spare room, the north room. And I think he is just, he room, the north room, and I think he's just reclaiming his individuality so easily lost in the family unit.

And having done that, I think he's, you know, battery's recharged, he's ready to return to the family. This is not an anti-family poem. To me, this is a poem that recognises that you still need to be you, the individual, as well as a part of that family that you exist within. As he says, who shall say I am not the happy genius of my household? Yes, he's happy to call himself a genius he is completely sane yet people might not notice me so much because the baby gets all the attention and and my wife gets loads of attention uh Kathleen less so but I am a look at me naked dancing as the sun comes up.

It's a sort of a celebration of himself. But the poem still ends with the word household. So I think at the end of it, he's acknowledging and celebrating that also. But he needed this. He needed to remind himself that loneliness, of being on your own, of not being part of the big picture, of just being separate from the others, whether the others is the people on the beach or whether it's the family. That is, you need that. You need that. If you lose that, you lose yourself. If you lose that, you lose yourself.

So, thank you so much for listening to this episode of My Poetry Podcast. Don't forget to press subscribe on your favourite podcast app so you never miss an episode. Imagine it. And if you enjoyed it, you never know, please do rate, review and and subscribe see you next week