C.H. Sisson is as serious-minded a poet as I’ve encountered. I purchased this collection years ago, but had only read a few of the poems – and at that time, in a distracted way. What brought me around was a recent conversation I had with a friend at work regarding old or ancient Christian art (I’m a big fan of Icons, etc.). Anyway, the conversation reminded me of this collection – and its cover. The collection has a detail from a stone carving of the raising of Lazarus, which can be found at Chichester Cathedral, in England. The detail is of just a couple of faces, but the expressions on these faces (in a piece that may be about 900 years old), are remarkable, at least for me. My reaction is probably removing the detail from the context to the actual carving, but I find the faces to represent remorse and concern over an event that is shattering in its meaning. Now I know that’s a long lead-in, but the folks at New Directions, after reading this collection, to my mind, took some careful thought regarding the cover.
Sisson is pretty much unknown in this country. As a poet (and translator), he lived a literary life in the shadows, working a day-job as a British civil servant, and not as an academic (I found that fact refreshing). According to a very well done biography at Carcanet Press website, he didn’t really start writing poetry until later in life. (When, I can’t tell, since this edition lacks dates for the poems.) Sisson was a metaphysical poet, but one that was influenced by the great Moderns, Eliot and Pound. And it shows, as he’s able to blend Eliot’s abstractions with some lovely, and precise, imagery that evokes an England of personal and literary memory.
However, reading this poetry reminded me more than a little of Donne. (And in fact, one poem is titled “A Letter to John Donne.”) For in a number of these poems the Donne-like division between flesh and spirit dominates, and it can often contain some harsh sexual imagery (“monkeys” and “apes” with their “tubes” reminded me of Donne’s early Satires, not to mention Eliot’s Sweeny). But if Sisson is judgmental, he’s usually hardest on himself, and each of these poems possesses integrity and discipline. You may not agree with the substance, but can respect the seriousness of his approach.
As much as I still enjoy Eliot’s Four Quartets, I’ve often felt a number of the poems from his Christian phase to be forced and dry. In contrast, I found Sisson’s voice, sometimes angry, often divided, to be also filled with the profound faith of a poet who had ran Paul’s determined race (1 Cor. 9:24-27) to the end. In other words, I found his poetry to be more rooted in the flesh than Eliot’s – and as a result, perhaps truer. This is a great collection.