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Two in one: Selected poems;: And, The frog prince and other poems,
- GenresPoetry
318 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1971
19 people want to read
About the author
Stevie Smith
74 books129 followersLibrarian Note: There is more than one author in the GoodReads database with this name.
Florence Margaret Smith, known as Stevie Smith (20 September 1902 – 7 March 1971), was an English poet and novelist.
Florence Margaret Smith, known as Stevie Smith (20 September 1902 – 7 March 1971), was an English poet and novelist.
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
October 27, 2021
The many line drawings were worse than the poems. Which was quite an achievement, as I didn't like the poems, and I read every one. There is one poem I would enjoy reading again, and several worthwhile lines and sections, but the total was under 10, in 300 pages.
And why did I keep reading? Because for the last eight years I have been picking a poetry book and reading the whole thing, five to ten minutes a day, though with very long anthologies I stop occasionally and read something shorter then come back to it. I love that doing it this way I find previously unknown gems, both poems and poets.
And why did I keep reading? Because for the last eight years I have been picking a poetry book and reading the whole thing, five to ten minutes a day, though with very long anthologies I stop occasionally and read something shorter then come back to it. I love that doing it this way I find previously unknown gems, both poems and poets.
October 8, 2008
Years and years and years ago I think Nell told me to read this woman. And I definitely did read the bits of her I could find – yes, Not Waving but Drowning, obviously. I didn’t really know too much about her. I somehow knew she was pretty big in the 1960s and had some sort of idea she was pretty young at the time. I was right-ish about the 1960s and right off about her age. She died in 1971 aged 68 according to the blurb at the back of this one.
Then Fi and I were in a second hand bookshop in Camberwell and I spotted this and bought it. It has been quite a journey and although I’m not quite finished (I’ve about 40 pages left to go) I’m going to do this anyway.
First up – the drawings. There are these wonderful little pen drawings on virtually every page of the book. Some of them are so delicate and done with such care that they are at least as moving as the poems accompanying them. Often the poem and the drawing are slightly off – almost as if they are commenting on each other. Except that they are better drawings I found myself being constantly reminded of Spike Milligan and the little drawings he puts in his books of poetry and such. You see, I’ve said that from memory and just now I went into the bedroom to see what the drawings were like in Puckoon and they are not a million miles away from Smith’s drawings at all. I would love to be able to draw like either of these two.
Now, the poems. I’d have thought that with the drawings she might be much more accessible than she turned out to be. This is hard to explain because the poems can be very simple indeed. But she can be a remarkable poet and can ask quite a bit from her readers. Some of the poetry I felt I really would have been better reading them with a literary guide beside me. Particularly in the Selected Poems and less so in The Frog Prince I did feel a bit lost at times and also a bit thick because I could see she was alluding to something but not quite sure what. Yes, the problem of reading someone much smarter than one’s self and feeling I am only catching a tenth of what she is parading.
The Big Themes are remarkably BIG and often the theme and the manner of handling the themes seems almost contradictory. Though given Not Drowning but Waving was my introduction to her – I guess I should have expected this. Lots of the poems criticise the various absurdities of Christianity. Lots and lots of the poems are about death and virtually always with a twist (or rather a double back somersault with pike if my metaphor was to be even approximately accurate). If you feel you need a good grounding in black humour it really is hard to go past this. As a case in point:
Mr Over is dead
He died fighting and true
And on his tombstone they wrote
Over to You.
Or maybe:
Autumn
He told his life story to Mrs. Courtly
Who was a widow. ‘Let us get married shortly’,
He said, ‘I am no longer passionate,
But we can have some conversation before it is too late.’
But I’m going to end now and do it with what was perhaps my favourite:
The Deserter
The world is come upon me, I used to keep it a long way off,
But now I have been run over and I am in the hands of the hospital staff.
They say as a matter of fact I have not been run over it’s imagination,
But they all agree I should be kept in bed under observation.
I must say it’s very comfortable here, nursie has such nice hands,
And every morning the doctor comes and lances my tuberculous glands.
He says he does nothing of the sort, but I have my own feelings about that,
And what they are if you don’t mind I shall continue to keep under my hat.
My friend, if you call it a friend, has left me; he says I am a deserter to ill health.
And that the things I should think about have made off for ever, and so has my wealth.
Portentous ass, what to do about him’s no strain
I shall quite simply never speak to the fellow again.
Then Fi and I were in a second hand bookshop in Camberwell and I spotted this and bought it. It has been quite a journey and although I’m not quite finished (I’ve about 40 pages left to go) I’m going to do this anyway.
First up – the drawings. There are these wonderful little pen drawings on virtually every page of the book. Some of them are so delicate and done with such care that they are at least as moving as the poems accompanying them. Often the poem and the drawing are slightly off – almost as if they are commenting on each other. Except that they are better drawings I found myself being constantly reminded of Spike Milligan and the little drawings he puts in his books of poetry and such. You see, I’ve said that from memory and just now I went into the bedroom to see what the drawings were like in Puckoon and they are not a million miles away from Smith’s drawings at all. I would love to be able to draw like either of these two.
Now, the poems. I’d have thought that with the drawings she might be much more accessible than she turned out to be. This is hard to explain because the poems can be very simple indeed. But she can be a remarkable poet and can ask quite a bit from her readers. Some of the poetry I felt I really would have been better reading them with a literary guide beside me. Particularly in the Selected Poems and less so in The Frog Prince I did feel a bit lost at times and also a bit thick because I could see she was alluding to something but not quite sure what. Yes, the problem of reading someone much smarter than one’s self and feeling I am only catching a tenth of what she is parading.
The Big Themes are remarkably BIG and often the theme and the manner of handling the themes seems almost contradictory. Though given Not Drowning but Waving was my introduction to her – I guess I should have expected this. Lots of the poems criticise the various absurdities of Christianity. Lots and lots of the poems are about death and virtually always with a twist (or rather a double back somersault with pike if my metaphor was to be even approximately accurate). If you feel you need a good grounding in black humour it really is hard to go past this. As a case in point:
Mr Over is dead
He died fighting and true
And on his tombstone they wrote
Over to You.
Or maybe:
Autumn
He told his life story to Mrs. Courtly
Who was a widow. ‘Let us get married shortly’,
He said, ‘I am no longer passionate,
But we can have some conversation before it is too late.’
But I’m going to end now and do it with what was perhaps my favourite:
The Deserter
The world is come upon me, I used to keep it a long way off,
But now I have been run over and I am in the hands of the hospital staff.
They say as a matter of fact I have not been run over it’s imagination,
But they all agree I should be kept in bed under observation.
I must say it’s very comfortable here, nursie has such nice hands,
And every morning the doctor comes and lances my tuberculous glands.
He says he does nothing of the sort, but I have my own feelings about that,
And what they are if you don’t mind I shall continue to keep under my hat.
My friend, if you call it a friend, has left me; he says I am a deserter to ill health.
And that the things I should think about have made off for ever, and so has my wealth.
Portentous ass, what to do about him’s no strain
I shall quite simply never speak to the fellow again.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews