Rachel Fox reports on the StAnza poetry festival which took place at St Andrews last weekend – StAnza is the only regular festival dedicated to poetry in Scotland...
Unlike lots of poets and poetry folk I have to say I always approach
StAnza with mixed feelings. I have had good experiences there - for
example I went to a great workshop with Matt Harvey 2 years ago (and I
am not normally a workshop kind of a person). He was really encouraging
and helped me a lot in terms of confidence (he was probably the first
person involved in poetry to say 'you're good, you should do this').
However I've also had some dire StAnza moments too. I tried the
Masterclass a few years back and hated it (it was with Jane Hirshfield
- she was fine but some of the participants...aagghh!) Plus I've sat
through a lot of (for my taste) overly poetic outpourings about nature
and nature and, oh yes, more nature - oh the droning voices, oh the
overdeveloped imagery, oh the polite audience...
Last year I even tried
the Slam as people kept telling me I'm a performance poet (which I
don't think I am particularly... in fact I'm sure I've said at least a
hundred times that I think the whole literary/performance split in
poetry is a nonsense really... some of the supposedly great literary
poets can perform well... some of the supposedly performance poets can
be as literary as they come... if in a less 'look at the width of my
phd' kind of a way). The Slam was OK, I didn't embarrass myself, but it
let me know the Slamming thing is not for me... the hooter, the time
limit, the juke box jury. Yuk.
Anyway... this year rather than a full
weekend and a lot of family organising I just chose a couple of events
on the Thursday. I got there early and tried to see the exhibition bits
(hmm... so-so). I bumped into a few friendly faces, spent ages in
Waterstones (we don't have big bookshops in Montrose), bought a Don
Paterson book (I give in, he is a clever bastard... and funny... and
miserable and oo, you are awful but I like you...), saw the poetry
films on show in the Byre (fantastic - the Larkin one, the family
values one...), ate lunch in quiet caff (just as well - no food at the
lunchtime Studio Theatre show... again...)
The lunchtime show itself
was great though (food or no food) featuring Raman Mundair (from
Shetland, via Northern England, via India). She was one of those poets
that's so full of life it's a joy to behold. She sang (beautifully),
she smiled like she knew how to do it, she had a great range of
material (for me the highpoints were the very sad poem about racist
killings in London and the very exciting poem about dance and life and
everything). I felt we should all dance off down the stairs at the
end... but of course we didn't. This is St Andrews, dear, walk nicely
and bow to the royalty.
I went on to the Past & Present next -
largely I have to admit because I wanted to see Adrian Mitchell but
didn't fancy the Sunday night reading (lots of reasons... too many to
detail). It was a great event. Tom Leonard was amusingly droll and
bitter (and like Don Paterson's...older brother? Uncle?) and Adrian
Mitchell was just... delightful (how English that sounds). He was
talking about Blake but most of all he was talking about life and joy
and happiness. Like the simply delicious Michael Morpurgo (who I also
saw at StAnza a few years back) he made you want him as a Dad, or an
Uncle or a Grandad... how nice it must be to have men like that in a
family... men with hope! I never knew my Grandads or uncles (or Dad of
course) so I think about these things. That may not be a literary
poet's take on the event but you can read that stuff elsewhere...I 'm
always pleased to see good specimens of humankind and rejoice in their
wondrousness!
So that was it for me. I went back off to the public
transport system and family life, my mixings with the literary world
over for another long while probably. I do like some writers but being
around a lot of them for any length of time gives me a headache.
• A version of this also appears on Rachel's blog http://crowd-pleasers.blogspot.com/
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