Indifference to Poetry

Radio Record, Volume II, Issue 33, 1 March 1929, Page 12

Indifference to Poetry

(By the Hon.

Eleanore

Norton

, in the

"Morning Post:" )

CANNOT quote any definite statistics, but I imagine only one person out of a thousand cares for, understands, or even reads poetry. Naturally this indifference does not apply to a small, appreciative section of the people, those who would never confuse Dryden with Donne, who buy each new Anthology, and to whom a fresh volume by Masefield or Woolf is a real event. But, alas! they are very much in the minority, for most of our even cultured contemporaries are too materialistic, lazy, or busy, to appreciate poetry-in a sense the most divine of ali the arts. It is a pitiful state of things, for the value of poetry in modern life cannot be disputed, even by the most unthinking minds. And this, I think, applies to a great deal of our modern poetry, and not only to the immortal music of an older day. Divinest Hopes, the Purest Passion.

Above the din, the speed, and the selfishness of modern life can be heard the lovely voice of the Muse Erato, pleading for wider recognition, as if she alone knew that in poetry are embodied the greatest prophecies, the divinest hopes, and the purest passion yet evolved by humanity. It is a triusm that in the soul of every man lies a spark of poetry (at times unconsciously). Therefore to its creators should be accorded the practical response of the multitude. Certainly there exists a tradition that the poets should-financially speaking-be left alone. Does not the Muses of Poetry thrive best on bread, and water, and might she not grow silent on a diet of truffles and red wine? Yet surely the stars lose their splendour when the poet is hampered by lack of means, and the wings of his spirit trail in the dust, instead of soaring through the dawn. Sorrow he must accept with reverence, for sorrow is the Mother of Poetry, but let the nation see that he is not. resigned to sordidness. I wonder, were a grateful nation to subsidise its poets, if their inspiration would vanish with the advent of a larger bank balance? The Uncrowned Kings of Earth, To counteract this indifference to poetry, I should like to see all the poetry-loving people of Britain rise, as it were, in a band, and fight for its enthusiastic recognition and consequent sale. Let me remember that in this work the British Broadcasting Corporation is beginning to take part, by the broad: casting of poems both old and new. It is possible that one not very distant day, the Press of all nations may, as a matter of course, publish poetry

which would shine out as a lovely jewel among the crimes and accidents that form such a great part of our modern annals. If this comes to pass, am I wrong in thinking that the nations would be blessed and purified? For does not the peace and wisdom of God, which pagseth understanding, lie in the great heart of poetry, and are not poets the uncrowned kings of earth?