I own a signed copy of Caves in the Hills by A.I.H. Paterson (now known as Alistair Paterson) which was published by the Pegasus Press in 1965. It was his debut poetry collection but, confusingly, the title page says:
Selected Poems by
A. I. H. Paterson
Usually a Selected Poems consists of selections made from a number of books published over a decade or more. Still, the past is a foreign country: perhaps they did things differently in Christchurch in 1965. Incidentally, the book is a hardback. Lift your game, VUP, AUP and Steele Roberts.
Here is the first stanza of the poem “Guns”:
Guns hold a fascination deeper far
Than the collector finds in stamps, in fine
Bold marquetry, in prints and epitaphs —
Flints and barrels, locks with furniture
Ennobled by a dead engraver’s art,
Portraying ills that lead alone can cure,
Lend to the faintest heart a touch of steel.
Which may explain the author photo above, of the author cradling an antique pistol and wearing an inscrutable expression that could be wry or could be threatening. Perhaps it could be both, as if he were channelling Michael Caine.
Whatever, it is the scariest author photo I have ever seen. I showed it to Karyn Hay (whose own debut poetry collection will be published next year) and she suggested that I run a caption contest. Her entry is:
“So, what did you think of the poems?”
That is possibly the winner right there but other entries would be welcome. Not sure what the prize is yet, but isn’t entering and doing your best what it’s all about?
6 comments:
"The next bloody stamp collector I see will get it between the eyes."
"I shot a critic in Reno, just to watch him Frye."
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I'll get my coat.
Where's Sarkozy?
@GV, Sarkozy is still engaged in the protest activity we are calling Occupy Our Garden, which entails sitting towards the rear of a two-foot section of four-inch pipe set horizontally a metre above a puddle, or what a real-estate agent would call a "water feature".
It wouldn't suit me.
The Caption:
A poet in possession of the addresses of those who refused his grant application ponders questions of truth and beauty.
"I'm going to kill that bitch Burroughs for stealing my William Tell routine."
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