Now Eurovision is over, and it's not till September that Switzerland will start their ridiculously long selection for a song that isn't as embarassing as Takasa, I need to think about something else for a while.
So.... poetry! :D
One of my favourite poets is Wisława Szymborska (1923-2012), from Poland, and winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature. Unlike in the UK, where no one seems to care about poetry, Szymborska was pretty well known in Poland. I picked up Szymborska's books by chance, being the sort of 'bad' English literature student that reads stuff that isn't studied.
Compared with a lot of mid-century Soviet Era Eastern European writers, I find her quite accessible. (Her life wasn't as brutal as some of her contemporaries though, which probably goes a long way.) Her writing could be very dryly humoured, as well as quite dark. 'Hitler's First photograph' is a standout poem, but the poem that I always remember, and that many of us probably have experienced, is 'Writing A Resume':
What needs to be done?
Fill out the application
and enclose a résumé.
Regardless of the length of life
a résumé is best kept short.
Concise, well-chosen facts are de rigueur.
Landscapes are replaced by addresses,
shaky memories give way to unshakable dates.
Of all your loves mention only the marriage,
of all your children only those who were born.
Who knows you counts more than who you know.
Trips only if taken abroad.
Memberships in what but without why.
Honors, but not how they were earned.
Write as if you’d never talked to yourself
and always kept yourself at arm’s length.
Pass over in silence your dogs, cats, birds,
dusty keepsakes, friends, and dreams.
Price, not worth,
and title, not what’s inside.
His shoe size, not where he’s off to,
that one you pass yourself off as.
In addition, a photograph with one ear showing.
What matters is its shape, not what it hears.
What is there to hear, anyway?
The clatter of paper shredders.
And if you read all that, thanks a lot. Here's some Polish Boobs!
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