Ambit Magazine

Christmas Poems
U.A. Fanthorpe (Enitharmon / Peterloo £7.95)
Review by Jehane Markham in Ambit 171

I first came across U.A. Fanthorpe’s work at an Arvon Retreat Week, many years ago, and immediately fell for her sharp-eyed, laconic style, which was so distinctive then, and has undoubtedly influenced poetic voices throughout recent decades.

Christmas Poems is a joli-laide collection of what were, essentially, private poems, sent to her friends and family as Christmas cards and not intended for general publication. They are accompanied by simple line drawings and ink washes from the artist, Nick Wadley.

I have to admit to a slight prejudice against Christmas books of any kind; the words ‘Perfect stocking filler’ appear like a cartoon bubble in my mind, swiftly followed by an image of same book abandoned after Boxing Day, not a fate any poet would want for their work. However, if one must buy books with a Christmas theme, these delicate missives will not disappoint. Fanthorpe explains in her forward that she and R.V. Bailey have been sending out poem cards since they bought their first printing press in 1972 and discovered the joys of printing. As she says, “Friends may jib at reading poems... but a Christmas card can slip under anyone’s guard.” She offers the collection up with characteristic modesty: “We hope they may be useful in the way of small, unpretending domestic things.”

Naturally the poems are energetic and witty, and perhaps because they were destined for friends (children included) they have a simplicity, even a vulnerability, about them, which is not always associated with Fanthorpe’s work. Often they are written from an unexpected perspective of the well known, if limited, Christmas cast, such as Angels, Joseph, or the animals in the manger. In ‘The Tree’ she lays out the contradictions, stereotypes and traditions that surround the ubiquitous tree:

Light is sewn through my branches,
Precious gifts wrapped in silver
Depend from my twigs. Star-crowned,
I am adored by children, cordially hated
By hoovering housewives, distrusted
By Health and Safety officers, who name me
Fire Hazard.

‘Dear True Love’ is a cunning re-working of images from the song ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’. In this poem, love triumphs over materialism in the sweetest way, as the concluding two verses suggest:

Hens, colly birds, doves –
A gastronome’s treat.
But love, did I tell you,
I’ve given up meat.

Your fairy-tale presents
Are wasted on me.
Just send me your love
And set all the birds free.

Of course Fanthorpe’s bleak sense of reality is never very far away. ‘The Contributors’ has a dark, even depressive tinge to it, alluding to “Our lonely overdoses, deepfrozen bonhomie”.

Many of the poems exploit the tension between 21st century mundanities of life and eternal human questions with a light touch that belies the seriousness of the intent, as this from ‘Now’:

Before the Queen’s Speech
A baby’s cry
Across the morning suburbs
The Light of the World

Nick Wadley’s illustrations are humorous and will appeal to most people. On the whole a charming book but not as good as it must be to receive each original card personally.

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