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Looking Through Blake

The English poet remembers Dom, is impressed by Seth, and marvels about Narayan

Looking Through Blake
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Truth eludes. Yet, an exploration of truths constitutes the basic creative agenda ofthe 46-year-old English poet, Blake Morrison, who has won the prestigious E.M. Forster andSomerset Maugham awards for his collection of poems Dark Glasses.

In Delhi to give away the prizes of an all India poetry competition organised by thePoetry Society of India and British Council, Morrison insists he hasn't seen much ofIndians writing in English though "so much seems to be happening". Hisobservation, however, suggests the contrary: "In a way, Dom Moraes would be the lastpoet who was a part of the British literary scene."

Which is not to say that Morrison's awareness of Indian writing is confined toMoraes' generation. He talks of contemporary poets he has read and liked:"Vikram Seth, of course. And, then there are others like Eunice D'Souza andRukmini Bhaya Nair." Almost absent-mindedly, he summarises: "The Indian novel isdefinitely more popular. But obviously, if you talk to someone from abroad, he will tellyou that."

Talking about Seth, undoubtedly the most prolific among contemporary Indian writers, hesays: "He is immensely sophisticated, brilliant. Personally, I prefer his shorterpoems. But his The Golden Gate, well, that's a tour de force." Yet, does notover-productivity imply a possible decline in quality? Morrison does not think so:"The trouble with him is that he has got the energy. He has this quality of a geniusabout him. He is so learned, so productive." Searching for more adjectives, his voicefades into inaudibility inside the British Council library.

In fact, Morrison could well be speaking for himself. The much acclaimed And When DidYou Last See Your Father puts him in league with other father-influenced sons like EdmundGosse, J.G. Ackerley and Franz Kafka. His other works of considerable repute includeSeamus Heaney, The Movement and The Ballad of Yorkshire Ripper. Morrison is puttingtogether another memoir and says he is a great admirer of Tobias Wolff's ThisBoy's Life, which is a record of the American writers' pained growing up years.Besides being co-editor of The Penguin Book of Contemporary British Poetry with AndrewMotion – Morrison's poetry appears in the first volume itself with James Fentonand Kit Wright – he has been literary editor of the Observer for the last threeyears. No mean achievement for the Yorkshire boy who grew up in a village rectoryfascinated with the mysteries of the universe.

He goes on to discuss Salman Rushdie. "He has been up to all sorts of games,"he asserts, but acknowledges that many have followed the "genuinely greatwriter's path" and few with success. "That's the problem any nationfaces when a huge talent comes along," he admits while referring to the generationinfluenced by the magic realist. "Rushdie is an inspirationas well as a danger. Youhave got to find your own way, for you cannot imitate without sounding like the one who isbeing imitated."

Morrison's voice has a "sad, disappointed quality" – the phrase heused to describe Phillip Larkin's poetry, which has left a mark on his style. Herecalls: "When I was young, The Wasteland had an impact on me. Larkin came later.Grudgingly, I have assimilated these influences in my works."

And if Dark Glasses is an effort where poetic influences do not degnerate intomanipulative imitation, his account of his father is a brilliant work of prose. "Iwould not call it a memoir because tht would make it too personal," says he."And not a biography either because biographies are about famous people." Thenarrative on his father is, at times, frighteningly candid. He writes: "He was nothimself up to being criminal in a big way, but he was lost if he could not cheat in asmall way." That he doesn't camouflage is apparent, though Morrison'sjustification is different: "There are two ways of looking at it. On the one hand, itis a test of how honest you could be. One the other, it celebrates how loving and tenderhe could be."

All through, he smoothly tackles the queries. Discussing The Inquisitor, the longnarrative poem which is a spy-thriller, he admits: "You think I am the only poet tobe influenced by John le Carre? You are right." Modern writing's biggest danger,he confesses, is that "one doesn't know what a book will look like after fiveyears. But a Narayan book has the kind of solidity not many modern writers have." ButMorrison is clear, has the requisite solidity and a candour that shines through. For, hedoesn't wear dark glasses.

So, besides handing out poetry prizes, did he trot around a bit? See the Taj Mahalperhaps? "Well, no I didn't have the time," he quipped.

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