[John Whitworth]

Give us the sonnet then, Ann. We ALL want to see it.

[Ann Drysdale]

Manifold Manor by Philip Gross.
Faber £3.99

Who could resist verse so accessible?
A poet who can take us by the hand
And lead us, not into some alien land
But through what is familiar and possible
In words and metres we can understand.
"A book of verse about forsaken premises
And those who might have lived there," says the blurb:
And yet the book gives far more than it promises.
It may amuse, amaze, distract, disturb.
His verses offer facets of reality
Like little sequins. Here are grins and tears,
Humour and horror of encroaching years,
Odd intimations of mortality;
It's sad and stimulating, fierce and funny
And worth four quid of anybody's money.

South Wales Argus 1989.

[John Whitworth]

That is bloody good. I hereby hire you to review my next book. A limerick will do. Or even a limick.

[Duncan Gillies MacLaurin]

With what John says I must agree.
(You've spelt "distract" with just one 't'.)

Duncan

[Ann Drysdale]

Have I? I'm checking... Bugger me!
I'll see to that immediately!

[Susan McLean]

Ann, it's a delightful sonnet, and it has done what the best reviews do--made me want to track down a copy of the book and read it.

Susan

[Duncan Gillies MacLaurin]

Three more pieces:

One minute book reviews

John Dugdale in The Guardian

Robert McCrum in The Observer

Duncan

[basil ransome-davies]

Originally Posted by John Whitworth

I came across a nice one this week. 'He was of the pillow-biting persuasion' but, as far as I know, it hasn't been used in a poem - yet.

Another one in need of KY it seems, though I'm not sure how euphemistic that is, given its suggestiveness, and while linguistic cruelty or insensitivity should be avoided I'm resistant to coy, muffled expressions such as 'differently abled'. My lip-reading tutor used always to say 'hearing impaired' & I itched to tell her I was just fucking deaf, though of course I didn't.

[Brian Allgar]

Yes, it's a bit like a doctor telling some poor sod that his wife is 'breathing-challenged' when in fact she's dead.

[John Whitworth]

I suppose 'hearing-impaired' ought to mean 'a bit deaf'. There were those nineteenth century (was it?) gradations of blindness; sand-blind, gravel-blind and stone blind.

I have noticed that the word 'fat' is now banned from The Spectator Coffee House. When I say Ed Balls is fat they wait for me to tone it down to stout, which is allowed. Though it seems to be OK to call Baroness Ashton ugly (not that I do) which is curious and perhaps sexist.

I am of moderate stoutness and the tiniest bit thinking-impaired if that means forgetting things which I perfectly well know, or did know five minutes ago.