I have been vaguely aware of Wystan Hugh Auden since I was in my late teens, when I read a passing note on his poetry in Erica Jong‘s Fear of Flying. I was also made aware of a personal family connection to Auden by way of my grandmother’s good friend who knew Auden at Oxford. It was shortly after reading Jong that I was given a signed copy of Auden’s poetry collection “Another Time” from 1939 that had been in said friend’s possession. I treated this tome with the requisite reverence, even maybe too much reverence – because I never dared read it. Until now.
At this point, I should state that although I have much respect for the form, I’m not sure I am a poetry person, because a lot (most) poetry passes me by, or leaves me untouched. A few poets have gotten through to me, like Michaux and Ekelund maybe, but generally it is tough going for me.
Several poems in this collection are about famous people, like A E Housman, Voltaire and Sigmund Freud. Some are about places (Musée des beaux-arts, Dover) and some about points in time, like the well-known “September 1, 1939” – about the start of world war two.
I know quite little of Auden’s biography – I know he was a religious man off and on, that he was in love with Christopher Isherwood, lived in Berlin, Iceland and then the US. He has apparently been described as the best poet of the 20th century by Joseph Brodsky. He must have been very big at one point. He also wrote the words to the short film Night Mail. I have always felt a connection to his name, without real reason. Now that I’ve finally read some of his work I feel better equipped to make an assessment.
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Kinship of all Species 