The Death of Andrew Crozier

Sad news. The significant British poet Andrew Crozier died on April 3rd. Eyewear asked Ian Brinton to write a few words. They are below:

Andrew Crozier 1943-2008

As an undergraduate in his third year reading English at Christ’s College, Cambridge, Andrew Crozier edited what Ralph Maud was to call ‘an Olson-biased’ American Supplement to Granta. The short collection was largely based on Donald Allen’s landmark publication, The New American Poetry 1945-60 and included work by Robert Duncan, Edward Dorn, Robert Creeley and John Wieners. At the end of this publishing adventure which was prepared to rattle the status of the safe English Movement poets Crozier appended a letter from Charles Olson to George Butterick which included the phrase ‘freshen our sense of the language we do have’ adding that ‘the spirit of Olson informs this whole collection: he is the major figure in mid-century American letters.’ It was no surprise then that Crozier should have quoted a line from Olson as the title for his own Collected Poems (Agneau 2, Allardyce, Barnett 1985): All Where Each Is.

A major figure in the Cambridge movement of poetry, Crozier founded Ferry Press in which the list of publications included Brass by J.H. Prynne as well as work by John James, Douglas Oliver, Peter Riley, John Temple and Chris Torrance. He co-edited The English Intelligencer in 1966 before moving to the recently-founded Department of Comparative Literature in the new university of Essex where he started The Wivenhoe Park Review which in turn became The Park when he moved to teach at Keele University.

Whilst studying at SUNY (Buffalo) he played the major part in the re-establishment of the Objectivist Carl Rakosi as a prominent poet in America. Having discovered the slim 1941 volume of Rakosi’s Selected Poems he recognised the enormous talent in this work prompting him to set out to discover what he could about the poet and why he had ceased to write. The journey was not easy since Rakosi had changed his name to Callman Rawley but Crozier’s determination finally unearthed the poet and in an interview Rakosi gave in 1986 he said ‘If Crozier had not written that letter, I might not have gone back to writing.’ In 1987 he edited the anthology A Various Art (Carcanet) which, as The Oxford English Literary History suggested, ‘scorned the pusillanimous set of conventions consolidated by the Movement in the 1950s’.

Jeremy Prynne’s introduction to Crozier’s first published volume of poetry, Loved Litter of Time Spent, referred to a central quality in the writing ‘the possible as it really comes over, day by day’. This sense of a quality of space in which the importance of life can take hold haunts Crozier’s remarkable achievement in The Veil Poem, a collection of nine interrelated pieces which engage with the relationship between the self and the surrounding world. This interrelatedness is a central aspect of Crozier’s work from the early "The Life Class" ("Nothing is to be the sign/of a separate history") to the later prose poem "Driftwood and Seacoal":

Those massed identities, spread one way and another, banked and scattered in new neighbourhoods. I hold them like your bearing in me, between a beacon and the showy stars, looking along the pebbles on the beach. So others in us, if, not therefore not, but also, go separately together.

Ian Brinton is a critic and schoolteacher based at Dulwich College. His latest book, Contemporary Poetry: Poets and Poetry since 1990: (Cambridge Contexts in Literature) is out autumn 2008. He is Chair of the English Association's secondary schools committee in the UK and the Editor of The Use of English for The English Association.

Gary Gygax Has Died

It is rare to be the creator of a new genre. Dungeons & Dragons was co-created by one Gary Gygax - and it was part-game, part-fantasy novel (or series of novels), and part, frankly, ambitiously-imagined (if sometimes derivative) alternate world. His work was hugely influential - often despised as (especially before video games took over as enemy number one) the instigator of teenage murder, suicide or derangement; or at least, nerdy alienation - and then again loved by millions. D & D clearly proved the worth of the fantasy market, and is as responsible as Tolkien for its continued popularity, in later film and book incarnations (including Rowling). Anyone who has had a Palladin or Elf confront a many-eyed gelatinous monster in a dank corridor will know the thrill (and perplexing complexity) of those many-sided dice, those well-thumbed books. He will be missed, his game will live on.

Boy Leaves Yale, Man Meets God

William F. Buckley Jr. who has recently died, was, according to some sources, variously: a CIA agent, Catholic, Yale Man, rightwing TV firebrand, homophobe, baronially arrogant, and one of the 20th century's most brilliant debaters. Only the last need detain us here. I share few of Buckley's vices, or virtues perhaps, and less of his ideology, but I have often felt that debaters, however otherwise turned rightwards, make the best companions (for dinner, if not bed). When I was a college debater of some repute (I often debated at places called Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Vassar, McGill, etc) Buckley was a hero, for his patrician indifference to low-brows and mass culture (though he practically invented High-IQ US TV discourse). My father (alas, dead) and I loved to watch him lean back in his chair, impossibly, an architect of disdain, a Pisa of scorn, his pen or pencil in his poised hand - about to strike, viperous. I met the gentleman once, all those teeth in that slithering smile!, after a Firing Line taping live from McGill in Montreal; at the cocktail reception, we briefly discussed poetry.

The Death of Heath Ledger

I am very sad to have heard, last night, of the death, apparently by overdose of sleeping tablets, of the fine young actor, Heath Ledger. The loss of any young person is a tragedy - and is perhaps especially moving when so much promise is left unfulfilled.

Surely, the media, and everyone in general, must be more sensitive to the toll that "celebrity" is taking - the news recently has been filled with shocking tales of drug abuse and public misconduct, involving genuinely talented actors and singers, that many people love. Ledger was, by all accounts, including his own, sensitive to the glare of public interest and media comment; and obviously a highly gifted actor. Personal problems had recently impacted on his fragile nature, with the result that, apparently, he had trouble sleeping. All creative artists know that state. I don't have much more to say, now, about this sad sad news - except that this feels very large, indeed, like the death of a James Dean for our time.

Ledger's Brokeback Mountain performance was a star turn, and powerfully revelatory of great things ahead. His Joker role looks terrifying and very dark, indeed, from the stills I have seen. Ledger had many more films than Dean in his oeuvre, though perhaps less of an established screen persona. But no one expected this, now. And it has hit around the world, on the day of the Oscar nominations, as if nothing else had happened. Our thoughts must now go out to those who knew and loved him well, and hopefully the spotlight will no longer torment the brilliant young man. The BBC has some tributes here. David Thomson has a good post here.

Bobby Fischer Has Died

One of the strangest, and most controversial, American geniuses of all time - in some ways a bizarre echo of Pound (the early stylishness in London, the later radio-racist rants, the anti-American later years in enigmatic exile, even incarceration, the bearded phase, the undeniable mastery and innovation of his chosen form) - Bobby Fischer - has died, in Iceland, age 64.

A Fischer king among pawns, yet arguably a dunce among men, he got as much wrong as right in his life, but in the world famous Cold War battle against his Soviet rival, became as defining an icon of his age as Sputnik, or The Beatles. New obituary in The Guardian worth reading.

Vernon Scannell Has Died

Sad news. British poet Vernon Scannell has died, at the age of 85. Death "carries off all the prizes", as he wrote in his poem "Ageing Schoolmaster".

Delbert Mann Has Died

Delbert Mann, one of the great directors from The Golden Age of Television, has died. Mann's finest moment was in winning a Best Director Oscar for Marty, the famous small film about two plain people who find each other in the 50s. It was always one of my father's favourite films - it made a great impression on him. As it did on many who saw it.

Ernest Borgnine's unexpected face, and everyman's physique (and no woman's fantasy), revealed that love, and yearning, did not simply reside in the matinee idols, but in the banal crowd, too. Borgnine, who also won the Oscar for playing the eponymous protagonist, went on to make such classics as The Poseidon Adventure, where his earthy cop's mad love for his wife Linda ends tragically. What in some hands would have been a maudlin role was transformed by the homely actor into a galvanized character study of a man on the edge - his final scream of loss, calling out her name, is in its way, as effective as Brando's Stella!

Joe Mitty Has Died

Joe Mitty, who started the first Oxfam shop, in Oxford, has died, at the age of 88. The world has lost a great visionary, and a good man.

Lois Maxwell Is Dead

The great Canadian character actor Lois Maxwell has died, 80, in Australia.

She made an indelible impression on fourteen Bond films, initiating the series in 1962, as efficent, yearning, slightly-plain Miss Moneypenny (see above), with whom James Bond would harmlessly (?) flirt, from Dr No to 1985's A View To A Kill. Born in Ontario, she won a Golden Globe, and made many film and TV appearances - but she won us over in M's office.

Bill Griffiths Is Dead

The British poet Bill Griffiths, some of whose work was published by Coach House in Canada, has died. He did a number of things remarkably well, it seems. Griffiths was a member of the British Poetry Revival, which briefly took over the Poetry Society, and the editing of the Poetry Review, before being basically ejected by a more mainstream consensus. This event has become the central mythic moment - the expulsion from Eden, say - in one version of the story of the battle between the Poetry Establishment and the free radicals, as it were ("The Conductors of Chaos") of British poetry. Unfortunately, this Manichean duality masks deeper, more complex, and sometimes even more fruitful differences, and similarities, between various poetic positions available to poets writing in the post-1945 world. It does seem the case, though, that after Griffiths and his cohorts were removed from their astonishing ascendancy in central London - an interregnum period if ever there was one - never again would marginal, experimental, and/or postmodernists be so recognized as part of the discourse of contemporary British poetry. It continues to be vaguely scandalous, or at least sad, for instance, the the usual list of T.S. Eliot nominees, never or rarely includes work by poets outside of the mainstream. For that matter, Geoffrey Hill tends to be overlooked too. Something contra Cambridge?

Karl Ghattas Has Died

Eyewear is sad to report that long-time Oxfam Marylebone supporter, artist, and prize-winning poet, Karl Ghattas, has died, at the age of 49, in Barcelona, in his sleep. There will be a London memorial service held August 8, to include readings from his works, and all sales of his books at the event will go to Oxfam. Ghattas was a brilliant, passionate man, with his own sometimes contrary vision.

He had a an MSc in Philosophy from the London School of Economics, had placed first in the Hastings International Poetry Competition, and had had many one-man exhibitions of his work, between 1992 and 2006, in Barcelona, New York, Paris and London. His first full collection of poems had recently been printed, titled My Very First Poetry Book. His work can be ordered from Oxfam online here.

Michael Hamburger Has Died

The great Anglo-German poet-translator Michael Hamburger has died.

http://www.poetryarchive.org/poetryarchive/singlePoet.do?poetId=185#

Tanya Reinhardt Has Died

Sad news.

Regular contributor to nthposition, Tanya Reinhardt died in New York on 17 March age 63. She wrote her doctoral thesis at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology under Noam Chomsky, and taught at the universities of Tel Aviv and Utrecht.

In December 2006, she left Israel and taught at New York University. Tanya was married to the poet and translator Aharon Shabtai.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/obituaries/story/0,,2038790,00.html

Inland Vampire

Eyewear is sad to hear of the recent death of Canadian-born icon of silver and small screen alike, Yvonne De Carlo (pictured).

She was best known for her vampiress role in The Munsters (1964-1966), which was cancelled the year I was born. Like many who came to love her, and the show, I saw it in re-runs.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/obituaries/story/0,,1988638,00.html

Allen Carr has died

Sad news. BBC is reporting that anti-smoking hero Allen Carr has died.

Of lung cancer.

Mr. Carr helped me quit smoking (though I sometimes lapse).

His method was simple and profound - to suggest that life without smoking was better (and less anxiety-prone) than with it (since most smokers feel they need the crutch of a cigarette) and celebrated every smoke free day as liberation from a terrible disease.

Meanwhile the legal sale of tobacco products by major corporations, resulting in millions of preventable (and often painful) deaths each year, is one of the world's enduring evils, and in a hundred years will be viewed with the same moral disgust as the slave trade.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/6194670.stm

My father's 67th birthday

Had my father (pictured here with my mother) not died two months ago, he would have turned 67 today.

Here is what was written in his memorial booklet.

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Thomas Edward Stanley Swift

November 26, 1939-September 9, 2006

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The poet Larkin wrote: "What survives of us is love". Tom Swift survives in that he has left each of us - family, friends and colleagues - with a great sense of love: both for him, and radiating from him. Tom's signature character traits were gentleness, a sense of humour, modesty, protectiveness and tremendous empathy, especially for the disadvantaged (both animal and human). The defining element of Tom's life was his family, for whom he would do anything. And, at the heart of his family stands an extraordinary love story - the 41-year marriage that he shared with Mary Margaret Hume, his beautiful soul-mate, who stood by him through health and sickness and gave Tom his greatest gift of all: love like a flame that never once swerved or threatened to go out. This strong and deep union also generated his beloved sons, Jordan and Todd. Let us mourn, but also rejoice for Tom Swift, knowing that his life was truly enriched by love, received and given.

Thomas Edward Stanley Swift was born in Montreal in 1939. He never forgot selling patriotic comics, as a kid, outside the vaudeville theatres of Montreal where magicians like Blackstone performed. Tom came from a close and loving family. His father, Stanley, was a gentle, thoughtful but gregarious man. His beautiful Irish mother Mary was an extremely hospitable and kind woman, who loved to sing, and it is from her he likely derived his musical gifts. His Auntie June was like a second mother to him. Then there was little Granny who also took great pleasure in spoiling the young children of the family. Tom's world was completed by his beloved brothers and sisters, Jack, Beverley, Graham and Brenda (a cousin close as a sister to him). The Swift family was a source of amazing story-telling and impressive verbal and musical talent. In the golden age of television, watching Hockey Night In Canada and The Ed Sullivan Show together was a regular family tradition.

Tom loved the world of popular enterainment. As a teenager, he'd cut classes to see matinees. Early films that inspired him were Shane and Rebel Without A Cause - movies he often returned to. As a teen, he used to wear his red hockey jacket like James Dean - he too felt like an outsider. He liked Bobby Vinton, Gene Pitney and most of all, Johnny Mathis. Tom grew to be a strikingly handsome young man and he began to write songs.One of his favourite anecdotes was the night he met Sammy Davis Jr. in his dressing room at a Montreal night club - the world-famous entertainer had invited him to speak with him at intermission, after Tom was the only audience member to correctly answer a question about Shakespeare. Tom walked in on the startled Sammy "pulling his trousers on"; they then spoke for fifteen minutes or so, and the great star, recognizing Tom's charisma, encouraged him to follow his dreams. Tom developed a promising career as a professional recording artist on the London and Allied labels in the early Sixties, cutting records and writing-performing songs such as "Blue and Lonely" and "There I Go Dreaming Again".

Tom had a beautiful singing voice.Even before graduating with a B.A.from Sir George Williams University, he was hired to work in the admissions office. Tom soon succeeded to the position of "Acting" Director of Admissions. He was still in his mid-twenties, and both the youngest director of Admissions in North America and a rock star, touring Canada, appearing on the charts, and on TV's popular youth show, Like Young. This posed a dillemma for university officials, and he was soon asked to choose if he wanted to have the "Acting" dropped and assume the full title (he already had the full responsibility). This was an impressive cross-roads for Tom to find himself at. Tom often talked about how his older brother Jack, a brilliant law student, made him apply to Sir George Williams. Tom was a good student at this point, particularly outstanding in Economics. Tom now chose the path of education. Tom's dedication to students complemented the Sir George Williams ethos where it mattered most, in admissions. He went on to later also become the Director of Admissions at the new university Concordia.

He worked in that position for 32 years.The most important event in Tom's life was his first meeting with Margaret. She was 17, he was 22, and they were both skating on the ice rink at MacDonald College on the West Island. Tom was instantly "struck by lightning" on seeing this beautiful young woman, and proceeded to chase her around the rink. Tom and Margaret were married in 1965, in the St. Lambert United Church, where we are gathered today. He formed a close and loving relationship with all the Humes.

The glamorous couple honeymooned in Jamaica. It was amid the barracuda-infested coral reefs there that Tom, diving, located one of his favourite stories. Seeking a glittering piece of coral that Margaret wanted, he plunged dangerously deep. Cutting away the piece, a larger section weighed him down. Refusing to let go, he was able to both achieve the prize, and ascend to safety. Margaret still has this treasure today.Stanley Todd, their first son, was born in 1966, three months premature. Tom, a nervous new father, announced to his astonished office that Todd was so small, he "had to be put in an incinerator" (instead of an incubator). From this linguistically-challenged incident came Tom's long-time study of E.B. White, H.W. Fowler and Strunk Jr.- in time, Tom became "a user of precise words".

In 1971, a second son was born, Jordan Fraser Knowlton. Tom was very proud of his sons, and supported them every step of the way, often by coming to their readings, gigs, and parties, blending in and becoming accepted as the friend he was. He told everyone he knew of Todd's champion debating and Jordan's successful career playing in bands like The Kingpins. Tom enjoyed watching his sons grow up, achieve much, and marry remarkable women.The family fondly recalls long summer road trips in their Volkswagen station-wagon from California to Florida. Later, the Swifts would spend whole summers up at Brigden Lake in a log cabin. Tom loved to row Margaret out on the lake to see the beavers and the incredible reflections of the rockcliffs in the water.

Another cherished family memory is day-long cross-country skiing treks with Tom through the woods of the Eastern Townships. Tom's love for animals began at an early age and through his life he was surrounded by a number of dogs and many cats all of whom he loved dearly - particularly Laddie, Rascal, Moushka, Bee, Kaila and Rosie.Tom was a superb all-round athlete. When young, he had tried out for the Dodgers farm team, and had been recruited. His friend Curly wasn't, and Tom, who always placed loyalty above personal achievement, declined the offer. All his life he engaged in team sports - especially softball. Tom won several trophies while playing for the team he assembled, The Bulldogs (which included Graham and famous hockey player Bernie Wolf): top batter for the League in 1979; and MVP in 1981. Tom was also a softball little league coach, and a Beavers and Cubs leader. He loved to take Todd and Jordan to Expos games.Tom was proud to have been an early ambassador of sorts by facilitating educational links with Hong Kong students, working alongside William Yip. After retiring, Tom was asked to become international student recruiter for The John Molson School of Business (C.U.), a position he held for 8 years.

He travelled extensively throughout the Middle East, Asia and other countries on their behalf. Once again China became a major focus for the recruitment of students and the development of agreements with many Chinese Universities. In March, 2005, at the start of yet another flight to China on behalf of the School, Tom collapsed just before take off and was rushed to hospital. He was diagnosed with the most aggressive form of brain cancer. Tom faced this terrible disease with stoicism and bravery. Dr. Del Maestro operated masterfully on two occassions. Tragically, Tom was taken from us suddenly while recovering from the second round of treatment at the MNI.

Tom Swift was an unforgettable, lovely man. He was so very kind. He possessed a wildly-inventive sense of humour, based on puns, slapstick and absurd insights. This comedy was used to mask a shy, intensely private and complex personality. Tom gave new meaning to the word Swiftian. We will love him forever.

Robert Altman Has Died

Robert Altman (pictured) was one of America's greatest film directors, and his death is very sad news.

The Player is arguably the best anti-Hollywood film ever made. The Long Goodbye remains a marvellous revisionist take on Chandler and film noir. Gosford Park would be nearly note-perfect, were it not for the miscue that is the Fry character's silliness near the end.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/6170376.stm

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/5217038.stm

Robert Allen Has Died

One of Canada's greatest contemporary writers, Quebec-based, Bristol-born Robert Allen, has died suddenly of cancer, peacefully, at Jimmie Walker Swamp (his home in the Eastern Townships) with many who loved him at his side.

Rob Allen (pictured) was many things - cult novelist with a linguistic turn that was Joycean in its word-play, but Nabokovian in its themes (Napoleon's Retreat); lyric poet with many collections (such as Wintergarden and Ricky Ricardo Suites) who wrote both of nature and zany pop culture icons with equal brilliance; and, throughout his career, a poetic natural scientist, who, encouraged by his teacher A.R. Ammons at Cornell, in the '60s, began possibly his greatest work, The Encantadas - a long poem inspired by Darwin and Melville, two of his heroes.

This last poem, which I think is one of the finest ever produced in Canada, and certainly in the last 40 years, was recently republished in a beautiful new edition by Conundrum press.

Rob Allen was also the expert and busy editor of Matrix, Quebec's longest-running English literary journal, The Moosehead series, and an editor of the DC Books New Writing Series. At readings, in collaboration, and as a teacher, he inspired and touched many other writers.

Rob was a very good friend of mine. He was my creative writing professor when I attended Concordia for my BA, in the late '80s. He was a room-mate of mine in the late '90s. He edited my first collection, Budavox, for DC Books. He accepted my first poem for publication when I was 18. He was a true mentor.

This loss is terrible and sad. Rob will be much missed. Readers not yet born will one day delight in his protean learning allied to such exuberant wit.

Faludy Has Died

Gyorgy Faludy, the Hungarian-Canadian poet, pictured, has died. Eyewear was based in Budapest for some time, and recalls hearing the poet read.

This from the CBC:

HUNGARIAN-CANADIAN POET FALUDY DIES

Gyorgy Faludy, the Hungarian poet who was an icon of the Nazi and Communist resistance in his native country, has died at the age of 96.

The poet, who became a Canadian citizen, passed away in his Budapest home on Friday, national news agency MTI reported on Saturday."Gyorgy Faludy was considered a master, the last member of Hungary's2 0th-century generation of poets to which all later generations compared and [will] compare themselves," Hungarian Prime MinisterFerenc Gyurcsany said. Known as George Faludy in the West, the poet fled his native country twice. Faludy, who was Jewish, left in 1938 during the rise of Nazism. He returned after the war and then fled a second time in 1956 as Soviet tanks crushed an anti-Communist uprising.

Before returning to Hungary in 1989, Faludy roamed the world, living inFrance, Algeria, the United Kingdom, Italy and then Toronto, where he resided for 20 years. The city was already planning to inaugurate a park bearing his name near his former home on Oct. 3.

Faludy may best be known for his adaptation of François Villon ballads from the medieval period, published just before the rise of fascism inthe late 1930s, and his autobiographical novel My Happy Days in Hell, published in 1962, which related his escape from fascist Hungary and his return and imprisonment during communist rule.I n the book, he details his life after being sent by the country's new Communist government to a concentration camp in 1949 where he spent three years. Many people were tortured or killed at the camp, which had been a state secret until 1,300 prisoners were released in 1953, following the death of Soviet dictator Joseph Stalin.

Faludy organized literature courses to keep up the spirits of the prisoners, including memorizing literary works to maintain their mental capabilities. He also recounts writing a poem in blood on toilet paper with a straw pulled from a broom.

After fleeing for the second time, Faludy edited a literary journal inLondon, taught at Columbia University in New York and received an honorary doctorate from the University of Toronto. Faludy never stopped writing poetry, publishing a new collection of his works in 2002. His rebellious nature was never reined in. On the heels of his new collection, Faludy allowed the Hungarian edition of Penthouse magazine to photograph him and his new wife, poet Fanny Kovacs, wearing little more than their wedding rings for a featur earticle. More than 70,000 copies of the magazine were scooped up in a few days. He married Kovacs, then only 28 years old, after living for some time with a male lover. His son Andrew, from his marriage with second wife Zsuzsa, lives inBritain. Zsuzsa died in 1963. Faludy will be buried Sept. 9 in Budapest's Fiumei Uti cemetery.

Copyright (C) 2006 CBC. All rights reserved.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Faludy

He Was The Model for Rear Window

How could Eyewear, of all blogs, not note the passing of one of America's greatest (as in above) photographer's, Slim Aaron (see obituary link below), especially as he was the model for James Stewart's immobilized shutterbug-cum-murder-witness in Hitchcock voyeurism classic Rear Window.

Slim's main theme, after war, was nothing less than the playgrounds of the jet set he helped to snap in time - the rich who float above the fracas of life in which others do the fighting; although immune to ideology, his images yawn wide with Marxist meaning. Slim did history by other means. The history of the impermeable membrane on the pool - the flashing surface of things. The cream on top.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/obituaries/story/0,,1821979,00.html