Poem Of The Week

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Stevie Smith (1902-71) was one of the most distinctive and individual poets of the twentieth century. Born in Hull in England as Florence Smith, she was given the nickname ‘Stevie’ after a famous jockey of the time, because she was so small. Her poetry is anything but minor, and in her work we often find the quirky and comical rubbing up against the tragic and wistful. Here are ten of Stevie Smith’s greatest poems – all are included in Stevie Smith: A Selection: edited by Hermione Lee (Faber Poetry).




‘Thoughts about the Person from Porlock’.

Smith is not afraid to take on the literary greats and subtly critique or poke fun at them, and in this poem, she tackles Coleridge’s ‘Kubla Khan’, the writing of which was famously interrupted (supposedly) by the arrival at the poet’s house of a ‘person from Porlock’ (possibly Coleridge’s opium dealer).

Many of the classic Stevie Smith poems on this list are very short, but this one’s a bit longer. With her characteristic wit, Smith suggests that Coleridge simply used the arrival of this person as an excuse, and that he was ‘already stuck’ with ‘Kubla Khan’. Many literary scholars are inclined to agree …



Thoughts about the Person from Porlock

BY STEVIE SMITH

Coleridge received the Person from Porlock
And ever after called him a curse,
Then why did he hurry to let him in?
He could have hid in the house.

It was not right of Coleridge in fact it was wrong
(But often we all do wrong)
As the truth is I think he was already stuck
With Kubla Khan.

He was weeping and wailing: I am finished, finished,
I shall never write another word of it,
When along comes the Person from Porlock
And takes the blame for it.

It was not right, it was wrong,
But often we all do wrong.

*

May we inquire the name of the Person from Porlock?
Why, Porson, didn’t you know?
He lived at the bottom of Porlock Hill
So had a long way to go,

He wasn’t much in the social sense
Though his grandmother was a Warlock,
One of the Rutlandshire ones I fancy
And nothing to do with Porlock,

And he lived at the bottom of the hill as I said
And had a cat named Flo,
And had a cat named Flo.

I long for the Person from Porlock
To bring my thoughts to an end,
I am becoming impatient to see him
I think of him as a friend,

Often I look out of the window
Often I run to the gate
I think, He will come this evening,
I think it is rather late.

I am hungry to be interrupted
For ever and ever amen
O Person from Porlock come quickly
And bring my thoughts to an end.

*

I felicitate the people who have a Person from Porlock
To break up everything and throw it away
Because then there will be nothing to keep them
And they need not stay.

*

Why do they grumble so much?
He comes like a benison
They should be glad he has not forgotten them
They might have had to go on.

*

These thoughts are depressing I know. They are depressing,
I wish I was more cheerful, it is more pleasant,
Also it is a duty, we should smile as well as submitting
To the purpose of One Above who is experimenting
With various mixtures of human character which goes best,
All is interesting for him it is exciting, but not for us.
There I go again. Smile, smile, and get some work to do
Then you will be practically unconscious without positively having to go.