First published in 1978 The Ordeal of Ivor Gurney is a moving and extraordinary account of a tragic genius penned by the composer Michael Hurd. Born in Gloucester in 1890 Ivor Gurney began writing songs and poems in his teens, taking his inspiration from the Severn Valley countryside where he grew up. Sent to the Western Front during the First World War Gurney experienced desolation and horror that made a profound impression on him. He ended his days in an asylum, but at his death in 1937 he was beginning to be acknowledged as one of England's finest composers. Still, it took several more decades for his work as a war poet to be fully appreciated.'Hurd compresses into a taut, sympathetic outline the initial optimism and later torment of Gurney's ill-starred life... distinguished by its crisp use of poetic extracts.' PN Review
Gurney is an odd character in English poetry. Exactly where he sits in the pecking order is difficult to establish. I tend to confuse his early poems with Edward Thomas's, his later, asylum poems are like nothing else though unavoidably recall John Clare, and in between there are the war poems which may include one or two that might be essential.
According to those that know, his reputation as a composer of English "art songs" is unassailable.
Hurd handles his subject gently but with critical balance. There is tact in the way he deals with the different players in Gurney's story. It would be easy, on the evidence, to be critical of someone like Gurney's brother, but Hurd keeps his treatment balanced.
Two of the highlights of the book are the way he uses Gurney's poems and letters. Given that Gurney's subject was mostly someone called "Myself" the biographical value of the poems seems obvious. But the letters, especially those he wrote before and during the war, are a revelation to someone like me who has only ever read the poems.
It must be difficult to write a readable biography of a man who may have been a genius both as a poet and composer, but who spent most of his adult life in an asylum. But I think Hurd did it.
o for a garden to dig in, and music and books in a house of one's own... i grow happy writing of it...
don't quite have the words for how beautiful this biography is, but suffice it to say i laughed and cried in equal measure – and wish that ivor were better loved, then now and forever hence!
This is a 1990 reprint of Michael Hurd's 1978 biography of the poet and composer Ivor Gurney. Gurney survived World War One but ended up in an asylum in 1922. He was to remain in asylums until his death in 1937.
This isn't a hagiography. He has an unsentimental honesty about Gurney's work, which can be unusual in biographies of artists with difficult lives. In his conclusion, which is broken into three parts, he says, "While it would be wrong to claim for Ivor Gurney the status of a neglected major poet, it would seem reasonable to suggest that he is a minor master of very considerable accomplishments whose work does not deserve to be overlooked." (204/205) He is similarly honest about Gurney's musical accomplishments, although there he does make greater claims for his status as a writer of songs.
The book also is structurally interesting. Hurd's given a lot of space to letters from, to and about Gurney as well. So we hear his voice in a way that a lot of biographies don't. There are also lots of his poems quoted. This is because Hurd thinks that: "To understand the poetry it is essential to know something of the life - and it is for this reason that the present book has been given its slightly unorthodox shape." (205) Indeed, the book begins with a long and hard to read letter Gurney wrote to the Metropolitan Police while in an asylum.
Gurney's breakdown - it seems he suffered from paranoid schizophrenia - is detailed both by Hurd and by Gurney's own letters and his friends. There's a particularly moving pair of letters from Helen Thomas, wife of the poet Edward Thomas who had been killed in the war, which give you a picture of Gurney towards the end. It would be easy I think to link Gurney's breakdown to the effects of his war service, but as the Hurd himself suggests it was clear that Gurney had some issues before the war, particularly around food and his own body. I am inclined to think that the war could not have helped but perhaps mental illness was Gurney's doom from the beginning.
The asylum section of the book ends with his death and at that point I found myself sobbing. Hurd's outlining of his decline, his feelings of guilt and betrayal and the loss of his faculties illustrated through his own letters and those of his friends and family is heart breaking. His brother - who had also served in World War One - found Gurney's mental issues difficult to deal with and had a no nonsense attitude to what Gurney needed that comes across as cold and hard to modern ears - and did so to some of his friends at the time. But Hurd makes a good case for being understanding of what the family was going through, particularly as it is clear that Gurney's family life was not easy. His mother was a domineering, selfish figure.
Hurd has a fine line in subtle snark especially when talking about military strategy.
Gurney comes out of this book as a sensitive - possibly slightly spoiled - man with a talent for both poetry and music whose mental illness left him unable to write or compose. The book is a worth reading, but it is a hard read.
This was a good and informative biography of Ivor Gurney which included several of his letters and unpublished poetry. Hurd managed to pack a lot of information in to just over 200 pages but managed to keep it interesting by not making it too academic and rambling. His thoughts on the skill of Gurney's poetry and music were fascinating as well as his thoughts on the cause of his mental health problems.
A must read for anyone who is interested in Ivor Gurney.