David Green

David Green (Books) is the imprint under which I publish booklets of my own poems, or did. The 'Collected Poems' are now available as a pdf. The website is now what it has become. It keeps me out of more trouble than it gets me into. I hope you find at least some of it worthwhile.

Wednesday, 8 April 2020

Odette on Poets

With apologies to those who take a more high-minded attitude to poetry, this is one of the numerous passages I made a note of in Proust as Swann's young lady, Odette, is less impressed with art and artists.
As for Vermeer of Delft, she asked whether he
had been made to suffer by a woman, if it was
a woman who had inspired him, and once Swann
had told her that no one knew, she had lost
all interest in that painter. She would often
say: "Poetry, you know— well, of course, there'd
be nothing like it if it was all true, if the poets
believed everything they say. But as often as not
you'll find there's no one so calculating as those
fellows. I know something about it: I had
a friend, once, who was in love with a poet of sorts.
In his verses he never spoke of anything but love
and the sky and the stars. 0h! she was properly
taken in! He did her out of more than three
hundred thousand francs.