Cheltenham Literature Festival - Philip Larkin

Philip Larkin, with Anthony Thwaite, Andrew Motion and Martin Amis, Cheltenham Town Hall, October 10.

It must have been 1976, or maybe 77, the last time I went to Cheltenham Town Hall and the occasion would have been Racing Cars (They Shoot Horses, Don't They) or The Kursaal Flyers (Little Does She Know). Although I didn't know it at the time, Philip Larkin was writing his last great poem, Aubade; Andrew Motion was winning the Newdigate Prize at Oxford; Martin Amis had not long ago published Dead Babies and Anthony Thwaite was literary editor at The New Statesman. And now they were all here.

You couldn't find a more appropriate triumvirate of urbane commentators on the occasion of the publication of Thwaite's edition of the Letters to Monica and Cheltenham is the top drawer sort of festival that can put on any number of such choice events.

Illustrated with readings from the letters by Oliver Ford Davies, this was a well-planned run through some of the most memorable passages of the book and possible views of the life and relationship they cast further light on. The circumstances of the discovery of these letters was roughly where we came in, Monica Jones living a a state of some disarray and 'squalor', they were spread about her house in Northumberland and recovered by Motion only just before burglars returned a second time to empty the place completely. However, it might have made the Police's job easier if they had let them take the letters, too, because they would only have to have waited for the culprits to edit and publish this volume themselves before arresting them.

Amis, a brooding presence made just a bit vulnerable these days by the onset of age and- it looked like- a cold, reflected that such a talented poet as Larkin had so little talent for life, that he always seemed 'daunted by effort' but a pattern began to emerge in which Amis's criticisms of Larkin's 'appalling' life and limited scope for enjoyment were parried and defended by Thwaite, somewhat more patrician than I remember him before and certainly not ready to be gainsaid. In the first instance, Larkin's life had been poisoned by his parents.

A certain 'homosexual' aspect to the relationship was noted with Larkin in some ways taking a womanly role and Monica, who 'writes at the top of her voice', more masculine. But it was suggested that the inhibited life suited Larkin and might even have allowed the production of his poetry.

Amis made further incursions into Larkin's lack of adventure, telling an anecdote of when the poet had learnt to drive - Amis making up a general rule that poets don't drive- and had suggested to him that he could now take further steps such as moving to London and getting a life. Suggestions that were not welcomed. But Motion, debonair and considered as ever, countered that Larkin was actually the funniest person that he'd ever met and Thwaite concurrred that he was very good company.

The allegation that Larkin turned a face to Monica that was 'not his most alive' might have been tellingly true but this idea that someone puts on a different persona for each person they engage with is not new, almost inevitable for most of us and certainly not specific to Larkin. Motion was prepared to accept that he worked within an area that was easy to inhabit.

Further crimes of the poet were a feeling of ill will towards Kingsley Amis developing out of envy at the success of Lucky Jim but Amis junior was as ready to praise the poet in Larkin as he was to find fault with the personality, judging that his literary reputation is back to where it was after the 'high noon' of political correctness. Literary criticism can't separate the good from the not so good but Larkin's poems are 'mnemogenic', looking good in the memory. The attempt to downgrade him failed.

Amis went as far as to say that, in Larkin's career trajectory, each subsequent volume was 'ten times' better than the previous one. I wouldn't say that. Not at all, but at least he was as keen to enthuse about the poetry as he was to condemn the lifestyle.

On the one hand, Larkin's love of the commonplace could have been because he didn't know anything else but, on the other, the poems seek a way out of 'being Philip Larkin' and soar and seek the sky.

An hour could hardly have been better put to use in exploring this new book and if and how it affects our view of Larkin. The discussion flowed quite naturally though obviously structured through a set of reference points and themes, but these are seasoned professionals and performers with more than enough know-how to knock out a top quality event like this.

Always relevant and making points worth making, it was a pleasure to have made the trip on a fine Autumn Sunday afternoon and one could be forgiven for thinking that, in fact, everything is in order and fine as long as one is in Cheltenham on a Larkin expedition.

I'm about a third of the way through the book. Do tune in again next week for a closer look at the letters themselves.