Books

Aug 5, 2009

On the awfulness of Clive James

Australian Literary Review have published another whopper Clive James poem. His poetry is "self-parodic" and "depressingly bad" , sighs Guy Rundle.

Guy Rundle — Correspondent-at-large

Guy Rundle

Correspondent-at-large

Sigh. Another Australian Literary Review, another Clive James poem, its very existence subtracting from the sum worth of poetry as a mode of expression. This one Aldeburgh Dawn is about a literary festival that James attended. When it's not merely self-parodic:

Later, near midnight, on the esplanade A pair of ancient people hand in hand Sit on a bench. Ideally they should be The ghosts of Vishnevskaya and Rostropovich...

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23 comments

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23 thoughts on “On the awfulness of Clive James

  1. Bullmore's Ghost

    There was an old expat named Clive
    Who penned essays and such to survive
    But his poetry stank
    Like a rank septic tank
    ‘Twas just his gags that kept him alive.

  2. Venise Alstergren

    KERRY: My dear old Grandma wrote stuff like that. Back to tendering for the Casino Celestiale. 🙂 🙂 🙂

  3. Bullmore's Ghost

    VA: Your dear old Grandma sounds like a very fine woman indeed.

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