‘Lightweight’ Betjeman ignored for poet laureate
ir John Betjeman, one of many best-loved British poets of the twentieth century, was initially ignored as poet laureate as a result of he was thought of a light-weight “versifier” who lacked severe advantage, in response to newly launched official recordsdata.
Government papers launched by the National Archives in Kew, south-west London, lay naked the extraordinary in-fighting and backbiting which surrounded the appointment to some of the prestigious positions on the earth of English literature.
Some of probably the most eminent poets of the time have been denounced as drunkards, snobs, communists, mentally unstable and the authors of maximum pornography, as supporters of potential candidates – and in some instances, the candidates themselves – superior their rival claims.
Betjeman’s identify first got here up for consideration in 1968 following the dying of the then-laureate, John Masefield, on the age of 88.
It fell to Prime Minister Harold Wilson to advise Queen Elizabeth on the appointment of a successor, with No 10 appointments secretary John Hewitt being tasked to take soundings on who may tackle the function.
With the 2 males thought to be the main poets of the day – WH Auden and Robert Graves – dominated out for differing causes, it shortly got here right down to a selection between Betjeman and Cecil Day-Lewis, father of actor Sir Daniel Day-Lewis.
Betjeman – maybe best-known now for his traces “Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough!/It isn’t fit for humans now” – had the upper public profile by means of his appearances on tv.
However, Lord Goodman, chairman of the Arts Council and Mr Wilson’s private authorized adviser, was amongst these to weigh in in opposition to him, warning that to supply him the put up “would not be to take the matter seriously”.
“The songster of tennis lawns and cathedral cloisters does not, it seems to me, make a very suitable incumbent for the poet laureateship of a new and vital world in which we hope we are living,” he wrote dismissively.
“An aroma of lavender and faint musk is really not right for an appointment of this kind at this moment.”
His intervention appeared decisive – though there was not far more enthusiasm for Day-Lewis, who was described by Geoffrey Handley-Taylor, chairman of the Poetry Society, as not more than “a good administrative poet”.
That was nothing, nonetheless, to the vitriol confronted by Auden when the put up once more fell vacant 4 years later following the dying of Day-Lewis.
Auden was not truly eligible as he had taken US citizenship after shifting to America on the outbreak of the Second World War in 1939 – a transfer nonetheless deeply resented by some.
But with hypothesis rife that he may return to the UK and reclaim his British nationality in an effort to take the put up, a livid Jon Stallworthy, one other poet and literary critic, warned No 10: “For him now to turn his coat again would make a mockery of the laureateship.”
Worse was to come back.
Ross McWhirter, co-founder of the Guinness Book of Records, contacted Sir John Hewitt (who had by this time been knighted) to say that Auden was believed to be the creator of a pornographic poem entitled The Gobble, which had appeared anonymously in a publication referred to as “Suck. The first Europe Sex Paper No 1.”
When he met Sir John in Downing Street to debate his considerations, Mr McWhirter acknowledged that Auden had not admitted writing the offending traces, however mentioned he had not denied it both.
“He then produced a copy of the paper and showed me the poem by ‘WH Auden’ which ran to about 30 verses of an utterly revolting character,” Sir John wrote.
“His concern was that, if Mr Auden were appointed to the position, a further publication of this poem would take place and that this would bring disgrace upon the appointment itself and would reflect upon Her Majesty The Queen.”
Meanwhile, one other hopeful, Leonard Clark – a former HM Inspector of Schools and an out of doors contender for the put up – was enthusiastically placing the boot into potential rivals.
In a collection of letters to Sir John, whom he apparently knew nicely, he warned that Ted Hughes was “unsuitable”, having written “too much in a violent strain”, Stephen Spender had turn into a “non-poet”, whereas Robert Graves was too previous and “wedded to Majorca”.
In an extra twist, a bunch referred to as the Poets Conference, organised by George MacBeth, a former BBC talks producer, visited Sir John to say they’d voted in favour of Adrian Mitchell, a passionate supporter of the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament.
“They arrived here wearing the usual uniform of the avant-garde and accompanied by photographers and so on,” Sir John knowledgeable Edward Heath, Mr Wilson’s successor as prime minister.
“Perhaps it is an indication of their attitudes that Mr Adrian Mitchell comes out top of this list. As you will remember, he is the person who put on a vulgar display at Southwark Cathedral when you were there.”
That left Betjeman, with Sir John admitting that earlier dismissals of him as “just a versifier” have been unfair.
“A fairer criticism would, I think, be to say that Betjeman is by no means the most eminent English poet, although he may be the best candidate for the poet laureateship at this stage,” he instructed Mr Heath, lastly clearing the best way for his appointment.