SCENES FROM COMUS is the new sequence of poems from Britain's most original and ferocious modern prophet, Geoffrey Hill. In the words of Rowan Williams, Archbishop of Canterbury, Hill remains for me the supreme voice of the last few decades The recent work, telegraphic, angry and unconsoled, at once assertive and self-dispossessing, is extraordinary'
'That we are inordinate creatures / not so ordained by God / That we are at once rational, irrational, and there is reason / That this is no reason for us to despair / the tragedy of things is not conclusive / rather it is one way by which the spirit moves / That it moves in circles need not detain us / Marvel at our contrary orbits / Mine salutes your whenever we pass or cross / Which might be now, may very well be now'
This, from 'The Argument of the Masque' (part one of this book) blew my mind when I first read it. Hill was the first poet I had read since being force-fed Owen, Sassoon, et al. in comprehensive school. Whilst I cannot say I understand any more than probably 10% of his poems, owing to his complex language ('Oh, the pondus of splenetic pride!), and his maverick use of punctuation, which often left me scratching my head, I still found this very exciting. I prefer Simon Armitage, Alice Oswald and Philip Larkin for regular reading; still, I see Hill's poetry as a challenge; I think reading him and taking that challenge fits into my constant underlying desire for 'self-improvement', suffice it to say this is probably not for everyone.
Reading Geoffrey Hill is partly about confronting what you think you know about reading, and words, and your own vocabulary, and your skill at giving yourself to the reading of a poem.
If you're looking for a generous kind of poetry — the little word paintings of a Gary Snyder, or the haunting characters of Frost's 'North of Boston' — you won't find those things in Hill. These poems are time machines and puzzles and short dreams of other writings that flicker over the landscapes of England, Wales, Iceland . . . but they are less about places and visions of things than they are about thought and feeling and the mind itself.
As far as minds go, prepare to supplement your own with a dictionary, the Internet, and whatever you need to reference all the references. The poems are deeply connected to Milton's 'Comus' and maybe his 'Passion' as well — so one might read those either before or right after tackling 'Scenes from Comus'.