i know there is cruel irony in the last two verses, but i can't help but tear up every time, and i can't help but think that that might be the point. transcendental.
This poem is a wonderful meditation on the passage of Time and the mystery of existence, and our brief appearance in it... Incidentally, this is the first time I've heard Larkin's voice and for some reason it's deeper and more 'posh' than I expected.
@@theprophet20 It will be so odd when people are reading comments, like we read the words of Tudors. Fist generation internetters, with all the weird stuff we watched and did and how we spoke all unrecognisable to the future modern person 🧑🚀
@@theprophet20 This conversation particularly topical, hello people in 15 years, and 100 years after than 🖐 we were here, sorry we pathed the way to your dystopian reality
Thanks so much. He did have a sense of humor. And he is, for all his loneliness, rooted in the landscape and culture in which he lives. There is no philosophical posing, though the poems don't lack for a kind of wisdom.
Our almost-instinct almost true: What will survive of us is love. That pause...before "is love"... He so wishes to believe it; you can hear it in his voice. But there's no escaping the reality that "Time has transfigured them into / Untruth" and that the idea of love's endurance is only an "attitude". One of my faves, though I think I like 'Love Songs in Age' the most. *ambivalent sigh*
Yes, it's not quite the voice you'd imagine for Mr. Larkin of Hull- and sundry diversions. But I did read in a book of tributes to Larkin that he had a very pleasing voice. There's an American poet, Alan Dugan who, roughly like Larkin, made an art of the miserable and the pessimistic. But I heard Dugan read- and he sounded like his poems. This is a wonderful meditation. What is that poem of his in which he wakes and looks at the moon- one of his later classics, I believe.
Not romantic love - eternal love, of which we are all made, that energy, light, as I stated. I was referring to the final line in isolation which neatly summarises the philosophy I've had for over 40 years. The line was also quoted at a friend's funeral which was very apt.
It's not sarcastic, the last line states a universal truth: we are energy when matter dies and that energy is love, light. There is light at the centre of our DNA, we are beings of light that the ancients always knew and quantum physics can now measure a photon travelling from our sun (via other suns) all the way along our meridien lines. Larkin was a sad man brought up in a silent and loveless home, his parents hardly spoke and this affected his own ability to be passionate.
andrewshere - very sorry, i thought you were replying to the 'what's the poem about???' queestion. Of course didn't think you were confusing the poet, just the subject. You're absolutely right as well, the line you mention is from Wilfred Owen's 'Dulce et Decorum Est'. Sorry again, though you can see the non-attached posts don't help matters.
jb1833, for your information: my earlier comment "Wilfred Owen, if I remember correctly" was a reply to the earlier comment "Bent double like old beggars under sacks" (I suggest you go look the comment up). Unfortunately, the reply didn't attach to the comment - in the same way that yours hasn't. Good grief! Did you HONESTLY think I was referring to this poem - that plainly states that it's Philip Larkin - and features Larkin himself reading his own poem?????
wonderful. i was once asked to read this at a funeral.
i didn't dare.
"What will survive of us is love."
I love that line.
i know there is cruel irony in the last two verses, but i can't help but tear up every time, and i can't help but think that that might be the point. transcendental.
This poem is a wonderful meditation on the passage of Time and the mystery of existence, and our brief appearance in it... Incidentally, this is the first time I've heard Larkin's voice and for some reason it's deeper and more 'posh' than I expected.
You wrote this 15 years ago!
@@thegentleman4873 Thanks for reminding me, I'm still here!
@@theprophet20 It will be so odd when people are reading comments, like we read the words of Tudors. Fist generation internetters, with all the weird stuff we watched and did and how we spoke all unrecognisable to the future modern person 🧑🚀
A bit like this poem actually lol our words are future statues
@@theprophet20 This conversation particularly topical, hello people in 15 years, and 100 years after than 🖐 we were here, sorry we pathed the way to your dystopian reality
I love how quickly both of you became angry and then back to polite.
Thanks so much. He did have a sense of humor. And he is, for all his loneliness, rooted in the landscape and culture in which he lives. There is no philosophical posing, though the poems don't lack for a kind of wisdom.
Our almost-instinct almost true:
What will survive of us is love.
That pause...before "is love"... He so wishes to believe it; you can hear it in his voice. But there's no escaping the reality that "Time has transfigured them into / Untruth" and that the idea of love's endurance is only an "attitude".
One of my faves, though I think I like 'Love Songs in Age' the most.
*ambivalent sigh*
I'd choose either 'Mr Bleaney' or 'Dockery and son'. Philip Larkin is gone now but we are fortunate and blessed to have his work.
Marvellous poem; and a great tomb and cathedral
Yes, it's not quite the voice you'd imagine for Mr. Larkin of Hull- and sundry diversions. But I did read in a book of tributes to Larkin that he had a very pleasing voice. There's an American poet, Alan Dugan who, roughly like Larkin, made an art of the miserable and the pessimistic. But I heard Dugan read- and he sounded like his poems.
This is a wonderful meditation. What is that poem of his in which he wakes and looks at the moon- one of his later classics, I believe.
Not romantic love - eternal love, of which we are all made, that energy, light, as I stated. I was referring to the final line in isolation which neatly summarises the philosophy I've had for over 40 years. The line was also quoted at a friend's funeral which was very apt.
@jgilonis No, it's iambic tetrameter; it just happens that the first line is headless.
It's not sarcastic, the last line states a universal truth: we are energy when matter dies and that energy is love, light. There is light at the centre of our DNA, we are beings of light that the ancients always knew and quantum physics can now measure a photon travelling from our sun (via other suns) all the way along our meridien lines. Larkin was a sad man brought up in a silent and loveless home, his parents hardly spoke and this affected his own ability to be passionate.
Larkin did study at Oxford. :-)
Quantick is a legend
jb1833: my apologies,too, for sounding irate. Certainly the non-attached posts do not help.
andrewshere - very sorry, i thought you were replying to the 'what's the poem about???' queestion. Of course didn't think you were confusing the poet, just the subject. You're absolutely right as well, the line you mention is from Wilfred Owen's 'Dulce et Decorum Est'. Sorry again, though you can see the non-attached posts don't help matters.
jb1833, for your information: my earlier comment "Wilfred Owen, if I remember correctly" was a reply to the earlier comment "Bent double like old beggars under sacks" (I suggest you go look the comment up). Unfortunately, the reply didn't attach to the comment - in the same way that yours hasn't. Good grief! Did you HONESTLY think I was referring to this poem - that plainly states that it's Philip Larkin - and features Larkin himself reading his own poem?????
great! the images started to detract from the poem for me, so i turned away about halfway through.
Wilfred Owen, if I remember correctly
I was never angry :-)
mmm, well I have to admit I was a little put out (ooh how sensitive!), but we're all pretty civilized in the poetry section :-)
I spy a marriage ahead...
i love larkin in this as he is, for once, seemingly optiimistic. for once it's not about fucking
what is this poem about???????????
You do NOT remember correctly.