Vahni Capildeo ‘Terrific, terrific, terrific,’ the tall lady with perfectly maintained blonde hair and a far from new, exquisitely tailored navy blazer roared. She was sitting in front of me at one of those curious events that gather poets and non-poets, sometimes the royal, or the very rich. Beginning as quiet as a wax museum figure, upright and polite, she had proceeded to liven up to real interest in the poetry being performed. You could see the rigid lines of her silhouette soften. Her breathing changed with her listening. She subsided a little in her seat. She paused. She seemed unsure how to show appreciation. Then she fell back on her accustomed vocabulary. ‘Terrific.’

Up to that point, less enthralled by the poetry, I had entertained myself by admiring the stitching on her clothes. Too much a craftsperson, I had dropped attention from the thin texts being ... read more

Caroline Clark Anthony Barnett and I have been friends for almost eight years – since I moved back to my hometown of Lewes, where he has been living for some forty years. I wonder whether our paths would ever have crossed if it hadn’t been for an email from David Caddy asking whether I knew about a new journal called Snow lit rev issuing from this town. I immediately wrote to Anthony telling him about myself, in part how I had a special interest in Celan and Mandelstam, not knowing he had translated poems of theirs. Within twenty-four hours he had brought to my house on Mount Place, from his place on Mount Street, copies of his 300-plus page volume of translations and 600-plus page volume of poetry and the first issue of Snow lit rev.

I was peculiarly prepared for our first meeting a few days later: I had avoided ... read more