Many though not all of the poems in Christopher Meredith’s collection, Still , explore the web of meanings in the word ‘still.’ They meditate on the paradoxes of stillness and motion, on the capacity of memory and imagination to hold life apparently still and the struggle in art to achieve the power implicit in that to connect with the things of the world in a contemplative intensity. Still builds on Meredith’s previous collection, Air Histories , shifting between the personal and impersonal, developing a characteristically wide range of forms, techniques, settings, and moods from quirky to serious, while increasingly an underlying coherence of vision emerges. Many of the poems feature Welsh landscapes and settings, in common with much of the author’s previous work.
A fascinating collection manoeuvring deftly around its subject matter, all the while seeming to give us a closer, more perceptive view. There is something so enticing and rewarding about reading poems so well written. The quality of this work is so outstanding that you feel you are reading one of the great continental poets. All the more extraordinary to realise how Welsh it is.