(Poem #1810) In a Bath Teashop "Let us not speak, for the love we bear one another -- Let us hold hands and look." She, such a very ordinary little woman; He, such a thumping crook; But both, for a moment, little lower than the angels In the teashop's ingle-nook. |
I must admit, when I first read this poem (several years ago), it did not strike me as being particularly noteworthy. Pleasant enough, perhaps, enjoyable and well-crafted as Betjeman always is, but more reminiscent of a poem dashed off in an idle moment than anything really great. And yet - there are some poems that my mind packs away, holding them in readiness for the right trigger, when it will produce them with a flourish, mostly for the sheer pleasure of finding an apt quotation, but as a welcome side effect, giving me the chance to examine the poem in a new light. "In a Bath Teashop" is one of those poems that I've found myself mentally quoting on several occasions, but it was only yesterday, when a friend said something that brought it to mind again, that I realised why my subconscious at least had found it so memorable - it sums up a universal truth with surprising simplicity and elegance, so much so, in fact, that its beauty is entirely unobtrusive. Many of Betjeman's poems have a salient, sparkling brilliance that impresses me anew each time I read them, and is, indeed, the main reason I enjoy his poetry so much; today's poem, with its quiet perfection, may not have struck me as forcibly, but over time I have come to believe that it is one of his finest. martin
44 comments: ( or Leave a comment )
Post a Comment