It's been some time since I added to the Signed Poetry Book collection. I have a goodly proportion of the poets I'd like to have so the process of gathering was always going to slow down. Eliot, Auden and Larkin might be attainable but I try to have an eye for a bargain. I might need to sell the house to acquire a signed Sylvia or Dylan and I'm not one to make collecting such an obsession that I become a suspect on Midsomer Murders when a Thomas Hardy manuscript with impeccable provenance is up for grabs.
It is possibly indicative of the perceived difference between Portsmouth and Chichester that you wouldn't expect such a happy find in Portsmouth. I don't know if the fine Oxfam shop in Chichester had noticed this was signed but it's not as if the signature adds much to the value of a book until it is at least by more of a household name, like Betjeman, maybe. It's no reflection on the quality of the writing, only on the demand for the signature of the author.
It was quite glorious for me, though, given this year's very rewarding skim across the top of the prolific Burnside output. It's 'early' Burnside and interesting to see him finding his way towards the mesmerising poet he was to be. You can see it there waiting to happen but, in 1994, there was plenty more to come.
The genuine artist keeps improving or else they should soon stop. It's by no means obvious that John has reached his limit yet and so he's still one to follow. It's possible that I have and so I'm not but at least I realized as much and have so far done the decent thing.
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