Save "The Poetry Society"

After the recent months of disruption at the British Poetry Society which has caused the loss of Arts Council funding, there is a petition to the trustees to restore Judith Palmer as Director of the Poetry Society immediately. After reading several documents relating to the recent meeting between the board and the members of the Poetry Society and then, more importantly, the statement by the former director herself, I have had no hesitation in signing the petition to have Judith Palmer reinstated.

The Flight of the Turtle: New Writing Scotland 29

My prose poem "Renata Perry" has been published in: The Flight of the Turtle: New Writing Scotland 29 published by the ASLS.

There’s nothing pure about Renata Perry except the pure cries of abandon of Renata Perry nothing so pure as the pure abandon of Renata Perry under the pure blue skies of Italy that Renata Perry can see from her bed the balcony opposite all covered in aerials pointed at transmitters waiting for signals Renata Perry is lying down under the weight of an angel waiting for signals under pure blue skies Renata Perry signals her mouth is dry and asks if he’ll be an angel and fetch some water Renata Perry watches him stiffly the weighty angel going stiffly to the bathroom and everybody says you can drink the water it’s true it’s incredibly pure but Renata Perry stays true to herself and the wine...

(Renata Perry, extract)

Don't Say Fairytale

Why do we go weak at the knee when royal couples marry? Why do we weep when doomed princesses die? Why do we love to despise the ugly stepmother? Why do we criticise the whole shennanigan and then turn out to watch?

Perhaps the Egyptians understood this better than we do ourselves. They knew their pharoahs were destined to join the panthaeon of the gods. The people of Egypt knew that their own destinies were intimately entwined with those of their own leaders. If a dynasty failed, a whole civilisation would come crashing to its knees. The story discontinued, the great sustaining myth brought to an end.

The British Royal Family is Eastenders on acid. It is so much more intimate. So much more real. The wounds are real wounds. The deaths are real deaths. The love is real love. The hatred real hatred. To watch it, at its most epic moments, sends shivers down our spines as if someone were walking over our own graves.

Today, as William and Kate walked down the aisle of Westminster Abbey, the commentator made a particular point of saying that this was not a fairytale. That, in view of historical events, William and Kate had only realistic expectations of their future together. And all the way through Horseguards and down the Mall, the word was never spoken. It became conspicuous by its absence. The commentary became anodine, pregnant with expectation of that one word.

Then at the end of the Mall, just outside Buckingham Palace, the veil finally slipped: the f-word was at last mentioned several times, almost in unison, by a chorus of commentators chanting the magical incantation. And why? Because the commentators saw the couple right in front of their commentary box. For the first time, they witnessed the magical spectacle with their own eyes. And no doubt the communal electricity was setting the hair of their necks on end.

What is a fairytale? It is a story. It is something not real. It is Peter Pan. It is Thumbelina. Something magical. Something that transcends time. A love affair with the gods. A myth. Fairytales never go away. We cling onto them. They are a promise of immortality. A promise that can lift certain individuals out of the drudgery of normality into another sphere of action over which they have little control. Their lives are no longer their own. Their destinies become controlled by the planets and the stars. "Did you see how the sun shone on them as they went into the church? And then again as they left?" said one spectator. Then she paused and considered, before pronouncing: "The sun shines on the righteous". Listen to those words. The sun shines on the righteous. The sun, over which we normally assume we have no control, shines on the righteous. And it really does...

From today, Kate Middleton is no longer herself. She is a fairytale princess. The hopes of William and Kate to just go on being themselves are over. Now the world is watching. The story has begun. The first act is finished. No, they will not come back onto the balcony for a second kiss. This is not tawdry show business. This is the real thing.

Launch of Upstairs at Duroc, Issue 12

Time: 27 January 2011 · 19:00 - 22:00
Location: Berkeley Books of Paris, 8 rue Casimir Delavigne, Paris, France 75006

UPSTAIRS AT DUROC is pleased to announce the LAUNCH for its ISSUE 12

Come hear new work by

AMY HOLLOWELL, NINA KARACOSTA,
...ALICE NOTLEY, JONATHAN REGIER
and JOE ROSS.

AMY HOLLOWELL is the author of Peneloping: Episodes in the Day of She and Giacomettrics, and is a contributor to numerous publications in Europe & the US. A former editor of the Paris-based review Pharos, she is a journalist, translator & Zen Buddhist teacher.

NINA KARACOSTA’s work has appeared in Pomegranate Seeds: An Anthology of Greek-American Poetry, Best of Stain Anthology, Surreal-zine and The Melancholy Dane. An actor/poet born in Greece, she moved to NYC in 1995 & to Paris in 2009, which she now considers home.

ALICE NOTLEY has published over 30 books of poetry, including most recently, Reason and Other Women; Grave of Light, New and Selected Poems 1970-2005; and In the Pines. With her sons, Anselm and Edmund Berrigan, Notley edited The Collected Poems of Ted Berrigan. She is also the author of a book of essays on poets and poetry, Coming After. Notley has received many prizes and awards including the Academy of American Poets’ Lenore Marshall Prize, the Poetry Society of America’s Shelley Award, two NEA Grants & the Los Angeles Times Book Award for Poetry. Often considered an important figure in the New York School, Notley lives and writes in Paris.

JONATHAN REGIER’s first book of poetry, Three Years from Upstate, was published by Six Gallery Press (Pittsburgh, PA) in 2008. He’s now at work on a second book, as well as doing a PhD in the philosophy of science at Université Paris 7.

JOE ROSS is the author of 12 books of poetry. In 1997, he received an NEA Fellowship and moved from Washington, DC to San Diego, where he worked for that city’s Commission for Arts and Culture and, later, as Chief of Policy for elected officials. He was awarded the Gertrude Stein Poetry Award in 2003. In 2004, he and his wife moved to Paris, where their 2 children were born, and where he continues to publish while working as an educator.

Francois Hardy - J'Aurais Voulu

Haiti

With 230,000 people thought to have been killed by the earthquake earlier this year, and 1.3 million still homeless, Haiti remains in a desperate situation. Make a donation to Save the Children and help to protect survivors in their dangerous situation:

Save the Children

Men on a Street

Funnyman by K T Tunstall