One of the nicest things about teaching: returning to texts and authors I haven’t read for years. This week, some of my students have been studying Yeats.
Reading ‘Under Ben Bulben‘, I was newly struck by the way Yeats curates his own epitaph.
But first, Reader, I will give you a word of warning. This is a foot-off-the-ground novel that came by the left hand…. And if you are a foot-on-the-ground person, this book will be for you a desert of weariness and exasperation. So put it down. Leave it alone. It was a mistake that you made to get this book. You could not know. (Stevie Smith, Novel on Yellow Paper)
Today I’ve been thinking about feet in Edward Lear‘s illustrations.
I’ve been back from Tulsa, where I was working in the Stevie Smith archive, for about three weeks now. It was a very rich trip, and I will take some time to process all the treasures I found there.
Today, though: some of the quirkier finds in the archive.
Meanwhile, my first academic article has just come out! It’s an examination of how Stevie Smith’s ‘peculiarity’ is similar to the peculiarities of the artist M. C. Escher.
You can read it here. Comments welcomed!
In a review for the Daily Telegraph and Morning Post in 1958, John Betjeman wrote, ‘Stevie Smith is a delightful poet and writer; her sketchbook “Some Are More Human Than Others” (Gaberbocchus, 18s) owes much to Thurber.’
Betjeman wasn’t alone in comparing Smith’s doodle-art to James Thurber (1894-1961), who contributed stories and drawings to the New Yorker from 1930 to 1950. Like Smith, Thurber drew mobile, dynamic figures in pen and ink. His people are sketchy, distorted, holding themselves at insistent but unsettling angles.