Philip Larkin: A Writer's Life

by Andrew Motion

Philip Larkin: A Writer's Life won the Whitbread Award for Biography in 1993 and was championed as 'an exemplary biography of its kind' (The Times). With a new introduction written by the author, this edition offers an engrossing portrait of one of the twentieth century's most popular, and most private, poets.

'There will be other lives of Larkin, but Motion's, like Forster's of Dickens, will always have a special place.' John Carey, Sunday Times

'Larkin lived a quietly noble and exemplary version of the writer's life; Motion - affectionate but undeceived about the man's frailties, a diligent researcher and a deft reader of poetry - has written an equally exemplary 'Life' of him.' Peter Conrad, Observer

'Honest but not prurient, critical but also compassionate, Motion's book could not be bettered.' Alan Bennett, London Review of Books

Genres: Biography, Poetry, Nonfiction, 20th Century, Literature

851 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 1982

About the author

Sir Andrew Motion, FRSL is an English poet, novelist and biographer, who presided as Poet Laureate of the United Kingdom from 1999 to 2009.

Motion was appointed Poet Laureate on 1 May 1999, following the death of Ted Hughes, the previous incumbent. The Nobel Prize-winning Northern Irish poet and translator Seamus Heaney had ruled himself out for the post. Breaking with the tradition of the laureate retaining the post for life, Motion stipulated that he would stay for only ten years. The yearly stipend of £200 was increased to £5,000 and he received the customary butt of sack.

He wanted to write "poems about things in the news, and commissions from people or organisations involved with ordinary life," rather than be seen a 'courtier'. So, he wrote "for the TUC about liberty, about homelessness for the Salvation Army, about bullying for ChildLine, about the foot and mouth outbreak for the Today programme, about the Paddington rail disaster, the 11 September attacks and Harry Patch for the BBC, and more recently about shell shock for the charity Combat Stress, and climate change for the song cycle I've finished for Cambridge University with Peter Maxwell Davies." In 2003, Motion wrote Regime change, a poem in protest at Invasion of Iraq from the point of view of Death walking the streets during the conflict, and in 2005, Spring Wedding in honour of the wedding of the Prince of Wales to Camilla Parker Bowles. Commissioned to write in the honour of 109 year old Harry Patch, the last surviving 'Tommy' to have fought in World War I, Motion composed a five part poem, read and received by Patch at the Bishop's Palace in Wells in 2008. As laureate, he also founded the Poetry Archive an on-line library of historic and contemporary recordings of poets reciting their own work.

Motion remarked that he found some of the duties attendant to the post of poet laureate difficult and onerous and that the appointment had been "very, very damaging to [his] work". The appointment of Motion met with criticism from some quarters. As he prepared to stand down from the job, Motion published an article in The Guardian which concluded, "To have had 10 years working as laureate has been remarkable. Sometimes it's been remarkably difficult, the laureate has to take a lot of flak, one way or another. More often it has been remarkably fulfilling. I'm glad I did it, and I'm glad I'm giving it up – especially since I mean to continue working for poetry." Motion spent his last day as Poet Laureate holding a creative writing class at his alma mater, Radley College, before giving a poetry reading and thanking Peter Way, the man who taught him English at Radley, for making him who he was. Carol Ann Duffy succeeded him as Poet Laureate on 1 May 2009.

Andrew Motion nació en 1952. Estudió en el University College de Oxford y empezó su carrera enseñando inglés en la Universidad de Hull. También ha sido director de Poetry Review, director editorial de Chatto & Windus, y Poeta Laureado; asimismo, fue cofundador del Poetry Archive, y en 2009 se le concedió el título de Sir por su obra literaria. En la actualidad es profesor de escritura creativa en el Royal Holloway, de la Universidad de Londres. Es miembro de la Royal Society of Literature y vive en Londres. Con un elenco de nobles marineros y crueles piratas, y llena de historias de amor y de valentía, Regreso a la isla del tesoro es una trepidante continuación de La isla del tesoro, escrita con extraordinaria autenticidad y fuerza imaginativa por uno de los grandes escritores ingleses actuales.

Reviews

[Paul · Rating 4 out of 5]

How do you review a book like this? An erudite and scholarly examination of a poet with (to me) repugnant opinions. He has written some great poems and yet he was undoubtedly racist and right wing. His relationships with women were complex and he had a horror of commitment which led him to have long term relationships with two particular women and for some time a third. Larkin is a bit of an enigma as well. He turned down the chance to be poet Laureate twice and spent most of his working life as Librarian at Hull University; just across the river from where I grew up. He was known as the Hermit of Hull.
Motion does not shy away from Larkin’s opinions and the contradictoriness of his character. Larkin had a great love of Jazz and wrote a column on it in a national newspaper for years; being a great fan of Armstrong et al. Yet he can say when writing to the novelist Barbara Pym;
“I’m afraid I always feel London is very unhealthy – I can hear fat Caribbean germs pattering after me in the Underground”.
He wrote of Harold Wilson’s Labour government in 1969:
“ Fuck the whole lot of them, I say, the decimal loving, n*****r loving, army cutting, abortion promoting, murder pardoning, daylight hating ponces, to hell with them, the worst government I can remember.”
He was a great fan of Margaret Thatcher when she became prime minister of course.
There is no doubt he could write poetry; especially when he wrote about one of his obsessions; death. This is Aubade;

I work all day, and get half-drunk at night.
Waking at four to soundless dark, I stare.
In time the curtain-edges will grow light.
Till then I see what’s really always there:
Unresting death, a whole day nearer now,
Making all thought impossible but how
And where and when I shall myself die.
Arid interrogation: yet the dread
Of dying, and being dead,
Flashes afresh to hold and horrify.

The mind blanks at the glare. Not in remorse
—The good not done, the love not given, time
Torn off unused—nor wretchedly because
An only life can take so long to climb
Clear of its wrong beginnings, and may never;
But at the total emptiness for ever,
The sure extinction that we travel to
And shall be lost in always. Not to be here,
Not to be anywhere,
And soon; nothing more terrible, nothing more true.

This is a special way of being afraid
No trick dispels. Religion used to try,
That vast moth-eaten musical brocade
Created to pretend we never die,
And specious stuff that says No rational being
Can fear a thing it will not feel, not seeing
That this is what we fear—no sight, no sound,
No touch or taste or smell, nothing to think with,
Nothing to love or link with,
The anaesthetic from which none come round.

And so it stays just on the edge of vision,
A small unfocused blur, a standing chill
That slows each impulse down to indecision.
Most things may never happen: this one will,
And realisation of it rages out
In furnace-fear when we are caught without
People or drink. Courage is no good:
It means not scaring others. Being brave
Lets no one off the grave.
Death is no different whined at than withstood.

Slowly light strengthens, and the room takes shape.
It stands plain as a wardrobe, what we know,
Have always known, know that we can’t escape,
Yet can’t accept. One side will have to go.
Meanwhile telephones crouch, getting ready to ring
In locked-up offices, and all the uncaring
Intricate rented world begins to rouse.
The sky is white as clay, with no sun.
Work has to be done.
Postmen like doctors go from house to house.

Motion also does a very good job of unpicking Larkin’s complex emotional life, although does become tedious of repetitious after a while. What beats me is why any of them tolerated him; possibly because none knew the total extent of his involvement with the others, except perhaps Monica Jones. Anyway, Motion has done a good job of combining general biography with literary biography and I feel I have spent way too much time in Larkin’s company; a man whose views I loathe.
And yet there is This be the Verse;

“They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself”

This first verse of which speaks to many.
Anyway; off with Mr Larkin.

[Lorraine · Rating 4 out of 5]

Motion was one of Larkin's literary executors. He's also a scholar and a poet (in fact, the current Poet Laureate). Being a biography, this leans heavily to Motion's scholarly side... On the one hand, one can't help but be impressed. Motion's talents as a scholar as undeniable: he digs out information diligently, and the wealth of information present in this book is a must for the Larkin scholar (I would say, fan, but not all fans are this rabid presumably?). More than this, Motion's readings often have merit, he's obviously talented at criticism -type things, and his biographical readings are highly enlightening.

But (this conjunction was coming from a mile away) -- but -- one can't help but get the sense, as Amis (Martin, not Kingsley) has written, that Motion is pretty harsh on Larkin. There is an impatience in the book, on Larkin's inability to act and how it contributed to his poetry. Somewhere along the line, as it often happens with criticism, the reading becomes about ethics, and this is no exception. Thus, as Amis says, you can feel Motion's impatience with Larkin's fear of death, his rather finicky manner, the way he dealt with his friends, the way he dealt with life in general.

Having read this hefty tome for myself, I must say that perhaps, as researcher, Motion's anger with Larkin is not (as Amis implies) pandering to a more politically correct world. It seems to be anger of a far more familiar sort, something I myself had to face while reading this. The man and his work, I always maintain, are aphoristically connected... they are separate yet inseparable. And so, in Larkin's poems, we get the best of him. Like most great poets, Larkin's art could somehow get at the general truth behind his own experience of life, to make the truths he gleaned from his life resonate with the lives that others have lived, to make it true for others. It is this that makes reading the tome so hard to bear.

It is hard to believe that Larkin had in him the capacity to cause so much human hurt. And the hurt that he had caused the women in his life is very tangible, from their letters, and from Motion's own conversations with Monica -- the almost exact quote I remember is "he lied to me, the bugger, he lied and lied, but I loved him". It is not a nice thing to face, that what you always considered as a very humane poet had a very cruel side, not just mocking others in his writings (that is more of a display of wit), but actually hurting people.

I feel that the anger that Motion has stems precisely from this: anger at Larkin for letting him down... the poet who speaks the truth in his poems lies to his friends, lies to his girlfriends, is cruel to them sometimes. We are all liable to do these things every now and then, but poetry (though born of these experiences), transcends them, and having transcended these experiences, to be reminded of the "sluggish matter of the earth" before it was "forged into an impalpable, imperishable being" is not a pleasant job for any reader. And of course, one has to admit that Larkin was *extraordinarily* messed up. A pursual of the Selected Letters hints at this, but the letters to his girlfriends (not in the SL) are very revealing, along with the wealth of detail that Motion provides. Larkin was selfish -- and this is antithetical to the nature of writing anyway -- it always is a sharing -- so it comes as a nasty shock. I suspect Motion was let down by his favourite poet. I myself find it hard to bear.

That being said for Motion, I still feel that he is too harsh. Larkin may have been messed up, but Motion made it sound like he was having a great time being messed up. A reading of the excerpts etc provided by Motion I think, proves that this is not true. Larkin was truly confused and upset sometimes, covering it with his usual ironic sense of humour... if there was delusion he probably never saw past it. He is not, I believe, from the facts presented, as calculating or manipulative as Motion implies. It was more like he was messed up on certain points and never managed to deal with it properly-- this in turn screwed up his character and caused him to inadvertently hurt some people in his life. It seems to me that Motion was angered by Larkin's selfishness and the hurt he caused others, and this caused some unfairness on Motion's part... to see almost every friendly or altruistic emotion that Larkin had as self-serving, deluded or even hypocritical!

Motion seems to forget to question one's own scholarly instincts: the tendency is towards judging and organisation. But most artists, like art, are incurably messed up. That's why scholars exist. While mess in an artpiece is always fun (one talks about 'tensions' and 'balances' and things like that) one tends to forget mess in an artpiece almost inevitably means mess in the person who created it!

And how do we react to messy people? Well, we don't like them ('that person has issues/ can't get his shit together/ is a fucking mess'). Motion's reaction is much the same; his book wants the sympathy one accords to the community of 'messedupness', especially those of the artists. Their messes were often unresolvable, for various reasons.... they either contributed to their vision or led to it (or did both!). Larkin didn't have a happy time; most artists don't really have happy times (there are some! don't throw names at me! I would say also it depends on the kind of writing they do but I digress). Their sacrifice is our gain, and indeed as Larkin says, the life is lived for art. One should always keep this in mind while judging, and not dismiss merits simply because there are flaws, and feel sorry for any pain (in the artist or caused by the artist) as opposed to laying blame and attacking the artist, especially if, as in this case, he seems to have genuine issues which caused his unhappiness.

[Graeme Roberts · Rating 2 out of 5]

Andrew Motion did a fine job, but Philip Larkin was an unappealing and unrewarding subject. I have enjoyed many of Larkin's poems, for he was very talented in my opinion, but struggled to like the man, and saw no point in celebrating his life.

[Crispin]

Andrew Motion’s Philip Larkin: A Writer’s Life is not just a great biography, but also a great work of literature in its own right. Larkin, despite his contempt for pretension, romanticism, and mythologizing, was in his own life deeply taken with the idea that the artist must sacrifice his life on the altar of art. One can have the life, or the art, but not both. The principal forces in Larkin’s psychology were (1) the protection of the creative process at the expense of life, (2) a preference for reliable passivity over unpredictable activity, and (3) a deep aversion to being bound to others despite his ordinary need for companionship and love. Motion’s biography is more than a ‘mere’ biography in that he is able to convincingly show the literary works composed in different times of Larkin’s life reveal these and other inner conflicts at different times in his life. Thus, the reader gets not only a biography, but also an incisive literary analysis of Larkin’s corpus from a biographical perspective.
The outline of Larkin’s external life is not particularly interesting. After his childhood in Coventry, Larkin studied English at Oxford, achieving a first-class degree in 1943. Larkin applied to become a librarian on something like a whim, and his first stint at a public library allowed him to have a more stimulating life at the library at Queen’s University in Belfast starting in 1950. In 1955 Larkin became the Hull University’s University Librarian, a position which he held until his death from cancer in 1985. Larkin was noted for his consistently excellent and efficient work as a librarian and occasional figure in the British literary establishment.
His creative life follows the trajectory of (1) prolific youth in a well-crafted but derivative style, (2) long artistic crisis, and then (3) artistic rebirth with his own voice. His early poems are beautiful and striking, consisting of poems with lyrical speakers who indirectly describe inner emotional turmoil and ambiguity through imagery of nature and everyday life. Beautiful, but derivative of Yeats and Auden. What may surprise readers of Larkin’s mature poetry, which is compressed and not very abundant, is just how prolific the young Larkin was. Motion quotes a letter from Larkin in which he self-confidently describes publishing plans for his fourth novel when he was just eighteen years old. Larkin did go on to publish two novels in his early twenties, Jill (1946) and A Girl in Winter (1947). But Larkin later had a creative crisis after he was unable to complete his third novel. Motion argues that the Larkin’s personal passivity and stagnation became so written into third novel that the story itself succumbed to stagnation, that Larkin could not overcome his own inability to act even in the realm of his the characters who sublimated his struggles.
Larkin did finally achieve a breakthrough when, in part inspired by the poetry of Thomas Hardy, he decided to create a poetry developed out of the experience of suffering in everyday life rather than the Yeatsian impulse to depart into mythopoetry. Despite his fulminations against modern-ism, Larkin very much adopted the modern aesthetic seen in writers like Joyce and Woolf, to make literature about everyday life rather than fantasy worlds of lovers and aristocrats. Like Beckett, Larkin turned his artistic gaze toward the helplessness, the passivity, and, above all, the nothingness which haunts everyday life. Larkin’s poem “Deceptions” might be taken as his artistic credo: in it, the speaker says that the rape victim is ‘less deceived’ than the rapist, because the rapist still holds onto the fulfillment of desire, whereas the passive victim has learned the truth about the brutality and futility of desiring. In reading Larkin, we readers also become ‘less deceived.’
Motion meticulously narrates the consequences of this philosophy in Larkin’s life. In his relations with his mother, Monica, and Maeve, Larkin used his commitments to one to evade commitments to another. His deceptions to Monica about Maeve are particularly disturbing. But one doesn’t feel that Larkin was a monster, only that he was selfish with great intensity.
Larkin’s obsession with non-being manifested itself as an all-consuming terror about death, a terror which only heightened in his final days with cancer. The final chapters are particularly harrowing as Larkin descends into acute depression and alcoholism after his literary career has ended. (The death of his mother undid the configurations in his life which facilitated his work.)
In many respects Larkin’s life was a shell for work. He always evaded ethical commitments to those that most cared for him. But one is touched by the scene of all of Larkin’s girlfriends coming together at his deathbed, putting any resentments aside to be with the poet they all loved. An improbable love survived all of Larkin’s selfishness, and this seems to counterbalance some of his life's grimness and sadness. Motion passes over what it was about Larkin that motivated women to be so devoted to him. Perhaps they saw a good side to him that is obscured in reading about Larkin's despair over himself.
One other criticism for Motion is that he seems too dismissive of Larkin's conservative politics. It does not appear to have simply been the result of a shallow hatred of the youth or indifference to workers' suffering, but rather Larkin's artistic attitudes are sentimentally linked with his conservative sensibilities. The deep sense of loss Larkin feels in individual life also expresses itself as a loss of traditional English life, which is not a triviality.
Larkin was ‘less deceived,’ but what good did it do him? While this biography may make one pause to sacrifice their life for art, we can be thankful that Larkin did, and that he produced such deep and beautiful poetry in doing so.

[Stephen Batty · Rating 5 out of 5]

Poet on poet, the best biographies, and this one comes near the top of that list. You get the impression that Larkin quickly appreciated who he was, who and what we are, accepted his own judgement, and prosecuted his life firmly (well, as firmly as one can) and egotistically on his own principles. For me, and I share some of his predicament if none of his talent, this is one of the most accurate and illuminating portrayals of human relationship out there. Andrew Motion's appreciation of Larkin's poetry and his sensitive tracing of it back to sources in Larkin's life, further convinces me that you can't know the poetry without knowing the poet, the writing without knowing the writer.

[Phan Quang Nghia · Rating 4 out of 5]

The biography is long and time-consuming, like every other biography. It shows a remarkable life of the Hull Hermit, a selfish literary one. How people could love Philip Larkin as a friend I occasionally find it hard to understand. This book is definitely not about an individual whose virtues inspire us. But it is about a person whose life was full of idiosyncrasies that we silently, and perhaps guiltily, admit to sharing.
At the end of the book, I felt sad for Monica and Maeve, maybe Betty as well, for falling in love with a person who had hurt them so badly. Maybe it is the price we pay for loving the wrong person.

[Bob Primosch · Rating 3 out of 5]

Motion did what he could but Larkin led a narrowly circumscribed life that doesn't sustain 500-plus pages particularly well.

[Preetam Chatterjee · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a mesmeric biography!! What a riveting life!! His poetry earned him great name and fame. The English reading public recognized his poetic gift. The one poem that made him quite famous was ‘Whitsun Weddings’. Then with the publication of ‘High Windows’ he was recognized as one of the leading British poets. Many honours were conferred upon him in recognition of his poetic excellence. For example in 1965 he was awarded the queen’s gold medal for poetry and he was honored with doctorate degree from several British Universities. On the death of John Betjeman, he was offered laureateship in poetry which he declined. Then this honour was given to Kingsely Amis.

Again this same person was a man of retiring and idle habits. By temperament he was rather unsociable. He did not like publicity. And he was not fond of travelling because he wanted to enjoy reserve and privacy. He has himself observed, “As I get older I grow increasingly impatient of holidays; they seem a wholly feminine conception, based on an impatient dislike of everyday life.”

Philip Larkin – the enigma. After his final school examination Larkin joined Oxford University from where he obtained the B.A. Degree in the first division. At this achievement he felt very happy and his professors also felt proud of his academic success. It was at Oxford that he studied at St. Johns College where he came into very friendly relation with Kingsley Amis. His association with Kingsley inspired him to be a poet himself.

After graduating from Oxford University in the first division Larkin was faced with the problem of finding a suitable career for himself. World War II was at this time at its height and according to the English laws of conscription he was obliged to enlist himself in the army.

He went for military interview but he could not clear the medical examination. Seeking some other job he submitted application for a number of jobs almost at random. In 1943 he was appointed the librarian at a public library in Wellington in Shropshire. He worked there for the next three years. Then he was appointed as librarian in the university college at Leicester.

Then again in 1950 he was appointed the sub-librarian as Queen’s University in Belfast in Northern Ireland. Finally in 1954 he was appointed the librarian at the University of Hull where he remained as librarian till his death.

Interestingly enough, Larkin first came into the limelight as a novelist. His first novel ‘Jill’ was published in 1946. His second novel ‘A Girl in winter’ was published in 1947. Then he took up writing his third novel which he could not complete then he devoted himself to poetry and later on published four major volumes of poems.

Then again, he was notorious for his weakness for women. It was a declared fact almost. This weakness, nonetheless had remained concealed for a very long time. Larkin used to take pleasure in looking at pornography. He was also habitually used to hard drinking. He had developed a strong passion for a woman whose name was Ruth. After some time he got engaged to her, but marriage could not be formed. Afterwards he made an illicit connection with two other women, Maeva Breman and Monica Jones. He wanted to choose one of them as his wife. But, being a non-marrying kind of a man he did not spell his vows with either. But throughout his life he remained fascinatingly attached to women.

Larkin like Hardy had a pessimistic outlook on life. He believed that there was much hopelessness in life. A critic speaking about observed “Apparently he is sixty, but when was he anything else? He has made a habit of being sixty; he has made a profession of it. Like Lady Doubleton he has been sixty for the last twenty-five years. On his own admission there was never a boy Larkin, no young lad Philip let alone Phil, ever.”

He was an enigma. He was an expert in the use of metaphor and metonymic. Countless critics have discussed Larkin’s poetical style and his poetic technique. Many distinguished critics have written about the achievement of Larkin in the use of new, vivid imagery, rhythm, metaphors and syntax. They have also analysed the metrical skill in his poems. For example, one critic has pointed out the syntactic inversion of the closing lines of the poem. At Grass and the half rhymes of “Home”, “Come” and other in the final stanza. The effect of this inversion is that imagery becomes subdued. The inverted syntax, the critics point out, is part of the subdued and delaying echo of the verse. The critic further makes the following comment. “The lines describe the scene, but the change in metre makes us hear and see it. Where the other stanzas are written in iambic pentameters, reversals of feet in the third stanza turn the first halves of these three lines into rocking choriambics, enacting the horses gallop.”

All bases covered in this book. Top notch – 5 on 5.

[Adrian Grant · Rating 5 out of 5]

An excellent biography by a conscientious and sensitive writer.

The only aspect I thought misfired was what I see as Motion's inability to appreciate Larkin's laddish banter, exaggeration for comic effect, schoolboy japery in words, for what they really were. Larkin wrote all sorts of highly vivid, over-the-top stuff to his friends, particularly his male friends.
This is meant as humour and ought to be taken as such.
Unfortunately it appears that in the last couple of decades too many people have been rendered incapable of understanding this. Welcome to Woke World.
That this - mainly via this biography - was seen for a while to have destroyed Larkin's reputation, is a total injustice.
From several reliable sources, everyone who worked with Larkin (dozens, and nearly all of them under him) liked him, and some loved him. How many bosses would this be true of? And in this biography, and elsewhere, I can recall no instances of anyone having a bad word to say about him.
THAT ought to be the real test of the man, NOT a modern po-faced, offence-sniffing, too-literal interpretation of the contents of his private letters to old friends.
So there.

[Jack · Rating 4 out of 5]

An excellent biography of a very frustrating and, happily, unhappily, limited character. It is unnerving to see so much of oneself in Larkin, seeing his selfishness and neuroticism and his wallowing in misery and alcohol. Yet it is hard not to love him too, if not without chagrin. The effects achieved in his poems are, in my estimation, among the greatest that can be impressed upon by language. The transcendent in plain speaking. Art without artifice. Very little compares to High Windows or Aubade or Love Again. This Be the Verse was the first poem I learnt off by my own free will...not that it was a difficult one, mind you, but it was a poem that served as a precious weapon on the lips of a sixteen year old. I recommend this book to Larkin fans, though you might want to glaze over the bits about his novels and his later years in the library. It's incredible that someone with so dull and limited a life as Larkin could be the subject of a book this good, but then you read another of his poems and feel no surprise at all.

[JerryDeanHalleck · Rating 2 out of 5]

Sympathetic, well-written biography of England's greatest poet in the last 75 years. Motion does some excellent literary analysis of Larkin's work and makes his life as interesting as any writer could. Larkin had some personal demons, and a troubled love life, and by focusing on that Motion gives Larkin's life some drama.

I appeciated that lack of PC screeching over Larkin's (More or less mainstream views for someone his age) political and cultural views. And I had to laugh when Larkin's heavy drinking was put in the index under "Interests and hobbies".

For some reason, I've always been fascinated by Authors and drink, and why so many of them were heavy drinkers. In Larkin's case, he wasn't an alcoholic, nor did he suffer from depression. Unlike Robert Stone, he wasn't an "Addictive personality". He simply liked drinking. Beer for lunch, Gin and tonics, whiskeys, and Sherry/port around Dinner time. In no case did it interfere with Larkin's library work, or writing his poetry.

[lizzie milne · Rating 3 out of 5]

Demonstrates Larkin’s complexity - perhaps his letters show the insecure and bad parts of his character, while his poetry demonstrates the good?

[Tamara Willems · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fantastic!

[K · Rating 5 out of 5]

And waving part, and waving drop from sight.

[Fran · Rating 3 out of 5]

Comprehensive but a little dry for me, maybe the subject's character didn't help. That said, I do very much enjoy the poetry of both Larkin and Motion.

[Dougie Morgan · Rating 4 out of 5]

One must always approach the genre of biography with the utmost wariness and caution, as it is possibly the most turbulent and variable form of literature there is. All too often, one finds that the biographer in question is either cronyistic to the point of venerating their subject, or over-interested in very specific areas of the subject’s life, both traits that tend to be detrimental to the work and its quality. Unfortunately, the production of a reasonably insightful and trenchant book necessitates an author who has been acquainted, in some shape or form, with the person to be studied, which tends to result in the aforementioned flaws that so mar their efforts. It is a dedicated professional indeed who eschews the bias concomitant with association in favour of producing an enduring, objective text, in spite of the obvious preferability of the pursuit of such a goal. Fortuitously, Andrew Motion is one such professional.

Approaching this work with only a smattering of poems and mildly malicious hearsay to work from, the mental picture I had painted of Philip Larkin depicted a haggard, bespectacled librarian of a cantankerous disposition. This is, perhaps, a prime example of the perils and pitfalls of extrapolating an un-encountered personality from the concerted scribblings on a page; the process tends to result in the conjuration of a conflated archetype or idol, one which is entirely incompatible with what we might conventionally recognise as human. Motion’s text works wonders towards alleviating and dispelling the typical perception of Larkin, both as a poet and as a man. Drawing on letters, drafts and accounts by contemporaries, Motion has gone to admirable lengths to construct a fair and full record of his subject, with whom he was acquainted for a time. Larkin’s life is closely chronicled from childhood to old age, yet the author remains detached and thoroughly objective throughout, never allowing his own judgements to besmirch the character of his esteemed friend.

That having been said, a number of poems warrant a critical reading from the author’s considered viewpoint, though this, if anything, enhances the work, taking into account the wider contexts which may have shaped the aforesaid verses and supplying the intrepid reader with a reliable, sturdy basis upon which to craft their own criticism. A fine example of this masterful criticism is to be found in connection with the wistful, reminiscent piece entitled ‘Dockery and Son’; Motion elucidates that it was written following a visit to the poet’s old college, and that this excursion helps, “to explain why Larkin describes himself as ‘death-suited’ in the poem, as well as illuminating larger questions of theme and mood.” Over three pages, the author draws examples of the poet’s experiences at the time to give an insightful analysis of the work, all whilst deftly avoiding the ineffable execrations of psychoanalysis. This level-headed and thoughtful method of appraisal is a welcome contribution to the work, as it enables an understanding of Larkin’s creative, poetic life alongside the account of his more temporal existence. These factors meld together to form a true ‘writer’s life’.

In conclusion, this is a very fine book that is accessible, stimulating and compelling. Motion has delicately and expertly collated vast tracts of information into a comprehensive text that provides one with an overview of Larkin as a human being rather than a giant of literature. It is sympathetic without being sycophantic, and displays a stolid boldness in its refusal to expurgate the more damning and questionable episodes pertaining to its subject. All things considered, it is an extremely entertaining and thoroughly good read.

[Prisoner 071053 · Rating 4 out of 5]

A five-star book, less half a star for the patronizing way Motion makes pronouncements about what Larkin didn't really mean or how Larkin was doing or saying this or that merely for effect; and another half a star for his inability to present Larkin's political views without downplaying them, denigrating them; or pretending they were the result of Larkin's shallow understanding of politics.

[Ruth · Rating 4 out of 5]

I am a big Larkin fan (“home is so sad. It stays as it was left.”). He was an English Poet, born 1922, died 1985. Larkin wrote a few books of poems and two novels. He also did reviews, especially of Jazz music, none of which I have read.

Despite my quality education, I only really got into him in the past couple of years. Someone at work told me about him, and off I went.

“The trees are coming into leaf
Like something almost being said.“

Emily D., step back for a while.
“If I were called in
To construct a religion
I should make use of water.”

He writes love poems (“latest face”) and anti love poems. (“talking in bed”). His poems “Toads” and “Toads revisited” are about having to work for a living.

This is a decent biography, it is comprehensive without being dense or dull. It passes my test of tolerance--and does cover his sex life? Yes, it does speak to that very significant part of the human experience. Good job, Mr. Andrew Motion.

Larkin’s child hood is not too notable, he spends most of his adult life as the head of the library at the University of Hull. He never married, and I think his life is a great study in the pros and cons of bachelorhood.

Larkin starts college just at the start of the War, and although his home town was bombed (retold in the novel Jill), his attitude to the times is kind of indifferent. Part of this is standard adolescent selfishness, particular in well educated, only sons. But it is also an alternative point of view, not always captured in, say, The Citizens of London , a book I liked so much. Likewise, he spends some time in Belfast, and I remember Ireland is not just the CatholicKennedy land.

His love affairs and flings are covered: virgin sex with pudgy 18 year old girlfriend, unconsummated crushes, long term two timing. He is often the inadequate man to these women. When everything is added up, the closest to his wife was his “intellectual equal”, Monica Jones, a professional academic at another university. I find her intriguing, She was a stylish college literature professor in a time when women were just beginning to gain higher degrees who never published any thing. But their relationship was kind of lame, he was always apologizing for keeping company with Maeve, his local gal who worked at the library. Get this, Maeve was Catholic and wouldn’t put out! This probably contributed to the length of their affair, and it was a nice safety net for Phillip. So he was a bit of a dick, but, sadly, many men are. And, the folks who worked for him spoke highly of him.

I’m not sure every one would like this book, but I’m happy to lend it out if you want to give it a try.

[Annette · Rating 5 out of 5]

Finally finished, and worth the ride. A very sad story on the surface, given Larkin's very English depressive nature and complicated love life, but as he himself understood, his misery was the key to his artistry. It was also fascinating to see in action how the mundane realities of his life in Hull kept his poetry relevant to the rest of us. What other major literary figure could have reveled in his role as academic librarian (and an administrator at that), while declining appointment as Poet Laureate? Great read, and author Andrew Motion (himself a former Poet Laureate) is to be commended for humanizing a maddeningly complex man.

[Philip Lee · Rating 4 out of 5]

I don't think Motion went as far as he could in nailing his subject to the mast, but his friendship with Larkin might have held him back. In fact, he is rather defensive about the poet's racism and doesn't address the contradiction between his attitude towards non-white people and his taste in music. Having said that, Larkin was a poet who somehow managed to make poetry accessible for many people and in doing so produced some memorable and important work. Motion's exhaustive biography does great justice to the work and the context in which Larkin wrote. One of the best biographies I've ever read.

[Dylan · Rating 4 out of 5]

It probably takes a good poet to write a decent biog of a great one - and this is successful. The only problem is that Larkin's life is without any real drama - there are no major revelations here - he was a mother fixated, slightly naughty, slightly racist, and successful provincial librarian. But this somewhat drab back story informs his wonderful poetry in ways that become clear once details of that life are revealed. I'm reminded of Alan Bennett's interpretation of one of Larkin's more celebrated lines (you know the one - about parenting). Imagine how incredible Larkin would have been if they really had f*cked him up.

[Lynn Kearney · Rating 4 out of 5]

Strange unpleasant sort of man but so much referred to by others that I thought I'd better know something about him. Was v. close friends - Oxford buddies - with Kingsley Amis, which I knew, and Bruce Montgomery (aka Edmund Crispin) which I didn't! Have now finished it - an excellent biography which manages to humanize the great poet who was kind of a repellent human being.

[Ania · Rating 4 out of 5]

Brilliant.If you're interested in Larkin of course.It could have been tedious, it was certainly long, but Motion makes it personal, and, above all, sympathetic. I feel like an expert now, and its rewarding to have such depth of knowledge. Not sure I like Larkin more or less. It certainly resulted in long sessions of self reflection, comfort and, at times depression.

[Chris · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a simply splendid book. Sympathetic without being a hagiography, honest and sensitive to the life and demands of the poet. It's very well-written and structured and provides real insight into Larkin's life: written by someone who knew him and has spoken to those closest to him.

I rarely write reviews but I can't recommend this highly enough.

[Frances · Rating 5 out of 5]

Great poet, flawed man but there's something about Larkin's 'ordinary' life - I just really enjoyed getting into his mind.

[Daniel · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent! Thoroughly interesting throughout. Not all bleak.

[Niamh Brown · Rating 4 out of 5]

Find my review on Helium:
http://www.humanities360.com/index.ph...

[Karen-Leigh · Rating 4 out of 5]

An interesting life.

[Sarah · Rating 5 out of 5]

Truly great poet, unpleasant man = fascinating biography

[Richard · Rating 3 out of 5]

Interesting. Increased my already substantial fear of death.