Having got that out of my system (all in good fun, Wiley, if you’re reading)...
For anyone interested, here’s a link to a page where you can play or download an MP3 file (750Kb) of Dylan Thomas himself reading his villanelle.
http://www.salon.com/audio/2000/10/05/thomasd/
He is more in his element in a freer mode. As for the criticism of that villanelle as overblown, I wonder how the same critics would describe some of his more rhapsodical pieces! Of course his rather histrionic style (underlined in his reading) contrasts with the cool disciplined approach of the so-called Movement Poets of the 50s and later in Britain, including Larkin, Amis and others — the Movement being partly a reaction against the DT style — but why can’t we value and appreciate both? (Larkin selected nine DT poems, including the villanelle, for his Oxford Modern Verse anthology in the 70s.)
Thomas is out of favour these days, but (as Janet has observed) many of us could learn something from the passion and imaginative language in much of his writing. Learn from, not copy! When we of lesser talent than the original try to emulate certain features of the DT style, the result is likely to be disastrous. A couple of times, I’ve attempted parodies or pastiches of Dylan Thomas, or at least of more obvious facets of his style — sheer mischief on my part, and really a form of homage. I know I can’t get anywhere near the real essence of the man.
To me — and I am not alone in this view — Thomas was one of the most original, mesmerising poets of the last century. One may try to imitate some of his surface features, but of course the genius is inimitable. In his imaginative stretching of language, his rhythms and hypnotic cadences, the transmuted emotion, he is unequalled.
It’s interesting that he tends to cut across, or show up as superficial, many of our prized dichotomies: metrical versus "free", modern versus traditional, simple versus obscure, representational versus surrealist. In some of his work the surrealist element was overdone, in my opinion, to the point of obscurity. I would instance
A Grief Ago. His “play for voices,”
Under Milk Wood, is close to being a masterpiece. Ah, but the 54 singing lines of
Fern Hill, that rhapsody to lost youth, is a moving and eloquent testament to his genius.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/wales/dylanthom...ern_hill.shtml
I wish that those who say, “Oh, I liked him when I was young, but I’ve outgrown him now,” or some such thing, would take this opportunity to explain themselves. Until they do, I shall assume it is their loss if they are no longer able to appreciate this unique Welsh voice.
[This message has been edited by Henry Quince (edited June 12, 2004).]