Title: The Best of Betjeman
Genre: Poetry/Prose
Year: 1978
Pages: 340
Origin: bought from a second-hand bookshop
Nod Rating: 4 nods out of 5
‘Come, friendly bombs, and fall on SloughThis is, of course, the famous first verse from Betjeman’s poem ‘Slough’, initially published in 1937 before the outbreak of the Second World War. Although probably Betjeman’s mostly often uttered words, it is just one poem in a larger collection put together in the late 1970s by John Guest. The Worm came into this collection with limited background knowledge on Betjeman, but having decided to plough through the Poet Laureates of Britain’s past (having already read and reviewed a book from both Carol Ann Duffy and Andrew Motion) the Worm found a well-preserved copy of The Best of Betjeman, thereby giving ample opportunity to delve into the work of Britain’s Poet Laureate between the years 1972 and 1984.
It isn’t fit for humans now,
There isn’t grass to graze a cow
Swarm over, Death!’
Betjeman was a popular poet, in that the greater public – and not just those few who part with their pence to buy a volume every now and then – knew of him. He was a poet for the growth of the media age, appearing on both radio and television. Furthermore, he wrote poetry in a Britain that endured some of its worst and horrifying moments (the falling bombs of the Second World War, economic uncertainty, and the decline of empire), as well as some of its most fantastic occasions (V-Day, the arrival of the NHS, and the Britain when – apparently - ‘it never had it so good’). Suffice to say, this collection – spanning five decades – shows the country during its changing moods.
The Best of Betjeman contains poems taken from the major works of the poet’s career, including Zion (1932), Continual Dew (1937), Old Lights for New Chancels (1940), New Bats in Old Belfries (1945), Selected Poems (1948), A Few Late Chrysanthemums (1954), Collected Poems (1958), High and Low (1966), and A Nip in the Air (1974). Furthermore, the collection also includes a vast sum of Betjeman’s prose work, including many writings from English Parish Churches (something that Guest makes ‘no apology’ for), and Metro-land, a script written for television. All of this allows the reader to confidently state that the book is a comprehensive gathering of Betjeman’s most famous and quality work.
Favourite reads for the Worm include ‘Death in Leamington’ (the first poem in this collection), ‘Trebetherick’, ‘Group Life: Letchworth’, ‘In Westminster Abbey’, ‘Henley-On-Thames’, and the short yet intriguing ‘In a Bath Teashop’. As can be easily deduced by these titles alone, Betjeman was a thoroughly English poet. His words reflect his own attitudes: a man tightly bound to the Victorian world and its values. As such, he was a man increasingly “out of time” during the course of his life, however, his work frequently succeeded in striking a chord with a nation that was not ready to jettison its once illustrious past. Other writers and musicians remained attached to Britain’s past, with the Worm recalling The Kinks lyrics to 'The Village Green Preservation Society': ‘We are the village green preservation society… God save strawberry jam and all the different varieties…God save little shops, china cups, and virginity…’ What The Kinks done for pop music, Betjeman done in the written word.
This satirical eye on the change within the country – a transformation of Merry Old England – is found in his most famous poem (yes, it’s that one again): ‘Slough’. He warns of the conflict and horror caused by an industrialising society, one that dismisses its past with a sneer and whole-heartedly embraces new technology without a thought on what is being lost. In many ways, it predicts the later malaise within British society; this is a theme picked up by many other writers, including the turn of the century show The Office; set where else than Slough itself.
It would be a lie for the Worm to call himself a big fan of Betjeman’s work. In the recent book-reading season the Worm has had the pleasure in devouring other poets, including that of T.S. Eliot. Both of these writers are distinctly different, but yet they remain bound in their critical view of the changing world. Such output by these two clearly shows just how wide and diverse the world of poetry can be.
The Best of Betjeman is probably the most comprehensive edition that be ever be sought after for those unacquainted with Betjeman’s work. It is one that makes the reader thoroughly British, leaving a hankering to visit many of the towns and places mentioned by the author. As for the Worm, he goes in search of books and collections from the Poet Laureates on either side of Betjeman’s tenure: Ted Hughes or Cecil-Day Lewis. Which one will be first to the Worm’s reading-table? You dear readers will simply have to wait. O, the excitement!
