Robert Southey (1774-1843) is the missing link of modern Romantic sudies. His influence on figures such as Byron, Wordsworth, Coleridge and Shelley was considerable, yet his later conservative self-representation distorted a career that started in the revolutionary decade of the 1790s.
I met David as a young man in the early 2000’s, yet have never read any of his works until now. Having spent the afternoon and evening with him during that time, I knew him as a man, not by his profession as a journalist or a former member of the clergy, simply a man. When I picked up “Song of Tiananmen Square”, I thought I would read a book by my “friend” and it would be an homage to that period of time in my life when we shared bread and beer over a meal. I never anticipated how his novel would affect me. The beauty of his words would touch places in my soul seldom reached. I feel as though I was there, in Tiananmen Square, seeking something greater than myself. If you can find this book please do. Read it and soak up the beautiful story, I promise you will thank me if you do.