Rosemary Dobson
So much shown in a little space
All humbleness, all dignity,
Hand-work – the Knitted Nativity!
Seeing, one whistles on an arc of breath
Wonderful, oh wonderful!
'Osip Mandelstam and Rosemary Dobson: A translation', a new poem by Rosemary Dobson
Nine Lives: Postwar Women Writers Making Their Mark by Susan Sheridan
All we can say is that ABR readers are not short of a word, and thank goodness for that. The response to our reader survey has been exceptional and most heartening. To date, about four hundred people have filled out the survey. We’re still analysing the results, but ‘Advances’ can report that overall our readers have a deep affinity with ABR – or at least with the idea of ABR – and are thus keen for us to improve the magazine and to maximise its potential. Readers’ annotations, whether critical or positive, have been overwhelmingly helpful and constructive. Already we are adding new features to the magazine in response to your suggestions. Many of you, for instance, cited Film as an area of neglect: next month we launch our film column. Much work remains to be done as we continue assimilating the results. Since the surveys are still coming in, we’ll delay announcing the prize-winners until the September issue.
... (read more)The kitchen vessels that sustained
Your printed books, my poems, our life,
Are fallen away. The words remain –
Not all – but those of style and worth.
The music stopped
This had been expected.
Paintings were stilled
And books lay mute.
... (read more)Then, there were spires in every landscape
Tall, tapering fingers pressed together,
The supplications of early sainthood –
Those that the early painters made
To teach the unlettered, while the spires
Called them to listen and to pray.
