Scotland’s second Makar, and one of the leading writers of her generation returns to the Edinburgh Book Festival with a new 50th anniversary edition of her seminal Memo To Spring collection. Interviewed by close friend: actress Nicola Roy (or ‘Delinquent Daughter’ as Lochead has it), Liz explained that she hadn’t wanted to appear at the Festival again — she’s ever in demand for readings — without having a book to bring.
Aptly, the the discussion began with the front cover of the new edition, a sepia version of the original black & white snap of Liz alone on Blackford Hill. The image, all downcast eyes and demure sweetness had attracted the eye of a distinguished literary critic, who was keen to meet her in the flesh. Said critic felt the need to tell Lochhead this, as well as ‘How disappointed he was when he actually did!’
Was Liz offended? No, ‘he was just being honest, as I always try to be’, she explained.
The pursuit of honesty, it transpired made writing a preface for the new edition more than a little challenging. Day after December day, and through her 74th Birthday last December 26th, she sat down every morning to write, only to discard the work the following day.
‘It just wasn’t honest enough, it wasn’t telling it like it was,’ said she, ‘It was like Groundhog Day!’
Her Editor at Orbit Germany, Edward, ‘my very, very patient editor’, talked her into creating a simpler text, something she ‘might have written on an afternoon.’ Further chats with young friends prompted the inclusion of anecdotes such as the above misadventure in promotional photography (and a cheeky bam of a critic.)
Not what she’d expected, but something Liz is very happy with; something true.
Turning to the collection itself, Lochhead told of writing most of the poems whilst a student at the Glasgow School of Art where she ‘scraped through a pass’ with drawing and painting.
‘I had to open again this book, that I hadn’t for quite a while’ said she with a smile, ‘but getting them reprinted again gave me back some that I’d forgotten. Writing the preface gave me back the truth of how it had been at the time.’
Creating this new edition, recalled to Liz the morning that epiphany happened, a day in the Art School Ref — since burned down, and under reconstruction — writing the verse without any idea of publication or performance. A mindset she retains to this day when writing new work, considering the work as worth creating for its own sake. Everything else can happen later, if indeed it does.
Talking of writing ‘her’ first poem, Poem for Other Poor Fools, ‘I knew it was my poem…I’d written quite a few by then…and I remember thinking I’ve not found that wee trick with poetry in anyone’s else’s work.’
Reading a little more from her new preface Lochhead described her lack of ambition to publish a poetry collection writing the poems which would ultimately comprise Memo to Spring. A sell-out performance at Edinburgh University alongside long-time hero Norman MacCaig at Poem ’72, would however place her in the same room as publisher Gordon Wright. With a little financial support from friend, Alasdair Gray, the collection was produced, sent to Gordon, ‘and the rest is history.’
Asked if it was difficult to write about herself, Lochhead said it was, ‘not that you write poems in a character…sometimes they are completely autobiographical….poetry is incredibly emotionally autobiographical…the events described might not happen…but you can’t write about what you don’t deeply care about. The more fictional the thing you’re writing about, the more honest you have to be about the truth of the world as you see it.’
Turning to Lochhead’s seminal place in the history Scottish poetry, and female representation, a excerpt from Ali Smith’s introduction spoke of that great writer’s introduction to Lochhead’s books in the library of the English teacher she was babysitting for.
‘It sank into me, recognition, direct connection,’ Smith writes. It offered possibility, and relief, that you could be a woman, a Scot, and a poet simultaneously…It’s the impact the size of a changed world.’
Did Liz feel she was breaking a glass ceiling in the 1970’s? Not so much…’I didn’t feel they were a male club…I didn’t feel I wasn’t allowed to write poems…or that anyone was trying to keep me down.’
(Image Credit: Edinburgh International Book Festival)
The Quinntessential Review sees no point in ascribing star evaluations to author events at the Edinburgh International Book Festival. Such events often succeed or fail based on audience performance as much as those involved in the formal Q&A segments. Further, authors are not performers, and as such, scoring their public performance seems a tad daft.
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