(Poem #233) Let It Go
It is this deep blankness is the real thing strange. The more things happen to you the more you can't Tell or remember even what they were. The contradictions cover such a range. The talk would talk and go so far aslant. You don't want madhouse and the whole thing there.
After a dazzling start , Empson's poetic career seemed to slow down in his later years, as he concentrated on literary analysis . Let It Go should perhaps be interpreted in this light, as a sort of apology for not writing more poetry. Beyond that, it's fairly self-explanatory (in marked contrast to much of Empson's work), so I won't spend any more time boring you :-) thomas.  He was celebrated for his writing while still an undergraduate at Cambridge (where he read Mathematics).  In which field he earned a reputation as perhaps the most important critic of the twentieth century; his only real challenger to the title is the young T. S. Eliot. Empson's book Seven Types Of Ambiguity is probably the single most influential work of criticism since, oh, I don't know, Bradley's Shakespearean Tragedy (at the very least). [Links] Empson's villanelle Missing Dates can be read at poem #202 The commentary at this site includes an analysis of Empson's poetic style, his philosophy and influence on other poets. Worth a dekko.