The Map and the Clock

Despite the old book versus cover mantra, when first given this weighty tome of poetry, curated by Poet Laureate Carol Ann Duffy and Gillian Clarke, the National Poet of Wales, it was difficult not to jump to conclusions. A new angle on ‘Best of’ perhaps, but, on previous experience, a shiny number like this – however beautiful – screams chocolate box. A very short time after opening it, however, it became apparent that this was a much bigger treat than this reviewer had bargained for.

All the usual tramlines of populist poetry are abandoned. No daffodils or summer day parallels here. Even the best known artists – none of whom get more than a few poems each – are showcased through lesser-known works. The order of content alone is extremely interesting, with each section headed by a line of a poem invoking wider themes like travels, woods, seas and drinking. All of these create a far more organic feel than the usual block name or date labels, although date boundaries ensure a satisfying sense of progression throughout.

Topic-wise, love lies alongside food, religion, battles, bawdies and nature, and court poets alongside anonymous ditties. In the more modern sections, sparse wilds nestle up to brilliant, multicultural cityscapes. The sheer number of female poets included, especially when we’ve been led not to expect them – in earlier periods of the 14 centuries of verse covered – is particularly heartening.

It is also unashamedly earthy in flavour; this is our cold, bristling isle with the meat and blood left in, and the purity of dark, snowy nights when words and fire are still the best way to keep warm. Above all, this is a catalogue of the poetry of ‘real’ people which has shaped us over the years – the rhymes memorised as a background noise to life, as well as poems which have made headlines.