Comparisons

and that

I thought I’d start with a poem about an obscure topic. That’s where the big bucks are, right?

This one was based on the idea that two of my favourite writers were like two of my favourite musicians. The writers are Kingsley Amis - a brilliant novelist who enjoyed fame and attention - and his close friend Philip Larkin, who was less well-known but just as brilliant. I was fascinated by their relationship - one more popular, the other with perhaps more depth. Amis always seemed a little nervous of his friend, while Larkin could be quite acerbic about Amis’ love of success.

All these things reminded me of another pair: David Bowie and Iggy Pop. Bowie was the star, Iggy the cult figure. Bowie was commercial, Iggy mostly wasn’t. And again there was a sense that for some (including Bowie himself) Bowie was the hollow construct and Iggy was the “real thing”.

Add to this mix a Simon Armitage poem in which he conflates Ringo Starr with a panda, amd you get MCMXLXIX.

That’s enough explaining. I can’t give everything away, you know.

Welcome to my first proper post.

MCMLXIX

They met at Oxford.

Amis, confident in his abilities

A poet then, unformed:

A one hit wonder, or so it seemed.

Larkin was the talent of the pair:

His albums with the Stooges

Unsuccessful but respected.

They both wrote novels:

A Girl In Winter,

Lucky Jim, and Jill.

But Amis’ star rose fastest.

Larkin went to work in Belfast

Amis stayed at home and drank.

And then, the new creation:

Ziggy changed it all.

Fame lay between them like a bolster:

Larkin’s mental health declined.

They fuck you up, the liquor and drugs.

Amis rescued him: in doing so,

he also saved himself.

And then their greatest moment came: Berlin.

Two friends on the spree.

Heroes, Low, The Whitsun Weddings,

High Windows.

The passage of the years.

Aubade, and Blackstar, side by side

The silence waiting.

So long since then. So long,

but some stars never go out.

David Quantick