Poets and Poems: Clive James and “Injury Time”

Clive James (born 1939) found himself in something of an embarrassing predicament. He was diagnosed with Leukemia in 2010. After various prognoses, the doctors said he wouldn’t live past 2015. He wrote a poem for The New Yorker that predicted his death. He anticipated, and he prepared, as well as anyone might. He wrote a book of poetry about his imminent death, entitled Sentenced to Life.

And then he lived. The disease has affected him, but he continues to live. So, he wrote another book of poetry, Injury Time, comprised of 48 poems than range from thoughts of death to family, home, and even the French singer Edith Piaf (1915-1963).

The poems of Injury Time fall into the New Formalism poetry style. Among other things, that mean they rhyme and have a certain cadence and rhythm. James even capitalizes the first word of each line. But beyond the particular style, using a New Formalist writing style adds a certain dignity to the poems, a gravitas that is absent from free verse and other forms.

To continue reading, please see my post today at Tweetspeak Poetry.

Poets and Poems: Clive James and “Sentenced to Life”

Clive James is an essayist, poet, translator of Dante, cultural historian, critic, travel writer,  lyricist, and novelist. As a television critic, he has had a large influence on the development of both British and American television. He’s published five collections of poetry. His translation of The Divine Comedy by Dante was a Sunday Times bestseller. He’s received national honors from both his native Australia and Great Britain.

In 2010, James was diagnosed with leukemia, with a poor prognosis. In 2012, his marriage broke up after he admitted a years-long affair. In 2014, in a poem entitled “Japanese Maple” for The New Yorker, James predicted his own death within a year. He’s sailed close to it a few times, but it is now 2016, and he recently told The Independent that the fact he’s still alive after predicting his death was “embarrassing.”

Embarrassment is better, I’d say.

To continue reading, please see my post today at Tweetspeak Poetry.