Should the poet laureate have to write about the royal birth?
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Version 0 of 1. Harry Mount, author and journalist It’s now a week since Princess Charlotte was born and, as we went to press, still nothing from the poet laureate. I think we can assume that Carol Ann Duffy is not going to be putting pen to paper. I don’t think for a moment she should be forced to write any royal poems. Obligation kills art. And I can see how very difficult it is to write a poem for the family that gave you your job. How many good poems do you know about bosses written by their employees? But, still, whether you love the royal family or loathe them, this is a moment of exceptional interest – a moment that chimes with Duffy’s official job. Surely it would be a worthwhile test of her poetic skills for her to write something? Alex Clark, writer and literary critic You’re right, Harry – obligation kills art. And let’s go back to basics: Duffy is under no formal obligation. Her position, as the official description makes clear, is purely honorary, and she is free to choose what subjects she sees fit. She herself has gone on record, in an interview given to the Guardian last year at the midpoint of her 10-year term: “I wanted to continue to write as I always had, and I have tried very hard not to write a poem I previously wouldn’t have written… for me, it was about finding the moment when my interests and my voice ran parallel to something that could be seen as public.” I find it hard to imagine that the birth of a royal baby is something she would have seen as a natural inspiration for her own work prior to the laureateship; after all, her poetry has taken a rather more subversive line on the roles carved out for women that I’m not sure would have been quite what the midwife ordered. Should she really attempt to alter her voice so radically? And what good would it do us, the nation? Or, for that matter, Charlotte’s undoubtedly proud parents? HM I can see the pitfalls. I still shiver at the memory of Andrew Motion’s poem on the Queen Mother’s 100th birthday: “…the balconies, the open smile and wave, the garden parties, and the hats, the hats, the hats…” Royal occasions are also the greatest human occasions: birth, marriage parenthood, death But I still think it’s a golden opportunity for poetry. You don’t have to write directly about Princess Charlotte herself. These royal occasions are also the greatest human occasions: birth, marriage, parenthood, death. Larkin may have refused to be poet laureate but he wrote supremely about marriage and death. Why not use prominent royal occasions as public jumping-off points for writing about the great human themes? AC Well, let’s think about how well it went for Hilary Mantel when she decided to write about Kate Middleton. Her intention, I firmly believe, was to point out the pressure that the monarchy, the media and wider society had brought to bear on a fairly ordinary young woman, demanding such perfection as no human could possibly deliver – in Mantel’s words, a person “capable of going from perfect bride to perfect mother, with no messy deviation”. Mantel was excoriated in much of the popular press, but was she wrong? A couple of years later, here is Kate, on the steps of the Lindo Wing a few hours after giving birth, with what can only be described as catwalk hair. She had very obviously had a visit from her hairdresser. Is this what being a modern royal means? Not being allowed to look even a little rumpled after childbirth? If so, I reckon it’s a satirist we need, not a paid celebrator. HM Hilary Mantel is also a brilliant example of how to write about the royal family in an original way. OK, she was writing about Henry VIII. But you can write cleverly about today’s monarchs, too. Look at The Audience, with Kristin Scott Thomas, which has just opened in the West End to rave reviews. Or Helen Mirren’s various queens, on stage and screen. Related: Royal baby: Duchess of Cambridge gives birth to baby girl The poet laureate is in that tricky position of being semi-employed by the Queen. But, still, the monarchy is such a well-known but mysterious institution that it lends itself beautifully to satire, comedy and tragedy. Shakespeare had a pretty good go at it. AC That’s a fair point, Harry – although, as you also say, anything the laureate writes is going to be received in a different context from a writer with total artistic freedom. But it’s also true that nobody forced Carol Ann Duffy to accept the position. I would argue that she has interpreted the role in a truly brilliant fashion, doing vast amounts of outreach work to popularise poetry and engage young people, setting up festivals and awards, and responding to events of immense national importance. Here’s an example. A while back, I was working at a literary festival at which she was appearing; one of my tasks was to catch writers in spare moments and record brief interviews with them for a podcast. I asked Duffy, who said she didn’t really want to do an interview, but she would read a poem if I liked. Trying not to bite her arm off, I said I thought that would be lovely, and we found a quiet corner in the green room. I’ve heard lots of poets reading lots of poems, but listening to the poet laureate recite “Liverpool”, the piece she wrote in response to the publication of the Hillsborough report, is something I’ll never forget. As she read the final lines – “not a matter of football, but of life. / Over this great city, light after long dark; / truth, the sweet silver song of the lark.” – I was not the only person in the room in tears. Now that’s a poet who matters. HM Stirring stuff. And I can see even great poets have been brought low by royal poems – look at Betjeman on Princess Anne’s wedding. But, if Carol Ann Duffy can write well about a national tragedy, good news shouldn’t be beyond her. Happiness doesn’t always write white. AC I agree that happy occasions should be celebrated – especially given a general shortage of things to smile about. But I wonder if excited royalists would genuinely see a commemorative poem as the icing on the cake; I suspect wall-to-wall coverage of the pregnancy, labour, birth, weight, naming, etc must be enough to satisfy them. I wonder whether there are many insights left to glean. After all, once you’ve had Kay Burley Periscoping for Britannia, what else can be achieved through mere iambic pentameter? Harry Mount’s Odyssey – Ancient Greece in the Footsteps of Odysseus is published in July by Bloomsbury |