Little Johnny's Confession

by Brian Patten

Superb copy of vintage 1967 (second printing from that initial year), like new inside, a little crease on top lfet corner. This was Patten's second boook of poetry, after the hot-selling Mersey Sound. Patten had a second round of fame in the 1990s, when he reflected on some of this early stuff. This is more classic 1960s material, such as Song of the Pink Bird and Song for Last year's Wife. A nice classic and great work too. No marks, excelletn copy about twice as tall and wide as mm paperback, 62 pages long.

Genres: Poetry

62 pages, Paperback

First published June 1, 1967

Reviews

[Laurens · Rating 4 out of 5]

Found this collection at Hard To Find Books in Dunedin, Aotearoa’s prettiest city. ‘Prose Poem Towards a Definition of Itself’ alone is worth the buy – sheer brilliance. A lovely discovery, Brian Patten.

[Lysergius · Rating 3 out of 5]

Patten's first volume of poetry, Little Johnny's Confession, was considered a masterpiece when it was published in 1967. The title poem Little Johnny's Confession has a blend of dream, violence, and pathos. Little Johnny borrows a war-time souvenir, a machine gun which belongs to his father, and 'eliminates' a number of his 'small enemies'. He runs away but the police are after him, asking:

Have you seen him,
He is seven years old,
Likes Pluto, Mighty Mouse
And Biffo the bear,
Have you seen him, anywhere?

('Little Johnny's Confession' - Little Johnny's Confession)

The boy knows he will be trapped in the end, when the tracker dogs pick up the scent of his lollypops. The amalgam of innocence, bizarre situation, childhood day-dreaming, pathos and tenderness is characteristic of Patten's work. This was what young audiences wanted at a time when the world was violent, morally confused, and turning towards the Hippie peace era.

[Chris Lilly · Rating 3 out of 5]

Brian Patten was the first poet I found for myself, exploring the world opened up by the Penguin "Mersey Sound" anthology. So re-reading this book, found on a bookshelf in my mum's house, is a way of stepping back 40-some years, which is weird, and remembering how good I thought the book was then. It's no longer the best poetry I've ever read, but there's still poems I like, and 'Song for Last Year's Wife' is good, and Little Johnny hunted down to a swing-park last stand by lolly-pop-sniffing tracker dogs is still a sort of hero.