Tuesday, 29 September 2009
Under Milk Wood
I know little of poets apart from this man and even then, to my shame still not enough. I recall it being said by one of my English lit masters that Dylan Thomas was often thought of as being too fond of wordplay. As ever in my school career, I was at odds with this point of view as I was with much of what I was taught, or rather what I wasn't taught. Dylan Thomas was everything that I would want a poet to be: passionate and wordy. Oh, for sure I love the works of Basho and also of Haiku but I have always found far too much math is employed in the construction of poetry and at times that can blind you to the real joy and beauty of the piece. Of course, that is just my jaundiced opinion.
This incredible radio play, as it was originally, is, as far as I am concerned, poetry. Richard Burton's warm tones add a depth and richness to the tale that in itself weaves its wordy way through the dreams and day to day doings of this fictional Welsh town. The characters are as real and surreal as you could ask for; their lives resonate with a truth. It was and still is a fabulously imaginative play.
I often place the cassette ( a thing of the past those) into the slot and have a quiet hour or so's listen.
aNOtHEr dIp Into ThE mAGpIE mEMOrY pOOoL.