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Roy Campbell: friends and supporters from George Orwell to Dylan Thomas to J.R.R. Tolkien
Critics such as Joseph Pearce, Roger Scruton and Jorge Luis Borges have sought to resuscitate his reputation
- Autumn
- I love to see, when leaves depart,
- The clear anatomy arrive,
- Winter, the paragon of art,
- That kills all forms of life and feeling
- Save what is pure and will survive.
- Already now the clanging chains
- Of geese are harnessed to the moon:
- Stripped are the great sun-clouding planes:
- And the dark pines, their own revealing,
- Let in the needles of the noon.
- Strained by the gale the olives whiten
- Like hoary wrestlers bent with toil
- And, with the vines, their branches lighten
- To brim our vats where summer lingers
- In the red froth and sun-gold oil.
- Soon on our hearth’s reviving pyre
- Their rotted stems will crumble up:
- And like a ruby, panting fire,
- The grape will redden on your fingers
- Through the lit crystal of the cup.
- Mass at Dawn
- I dropped my sail and dried my dripping seines
- Where the white quay is chequered by cool planes
- In whose great branches, always out of sight,
- The nightingales are singing day and night.
- Though all was grey beneath the moon’s grey beam,
- My boat in her new paint shone like a bride,
- And silver in my baskets shone the bream:
- My arms were tired and I was heavy-eyed,
- But when with food and drink, at morning-light,
- The children met me at the water-side,
- Never was wine so red or bread so white.
- Christ in Uniform
- Close at my side a girl and boy
- Fell firing, in the doorway here,
- Collapsing with a strangled cheer
- As on the very couch of joy,
- And onward through a wall of fire
- A thousand others rolled the surge,
- And where a dozen men expire
- A hundred myrmidons emerge —
- As if the Christ, our Solar Sire,
- Magnificent in their intent,
- Returned the bloody way he went,
- Of so much blood, of such desire,
- And so much valour proudly spent,
- To weld a single heart of fire.
Roy Campbell
Roy Campbell (1901-1957) was a South African poet, literary critic and translator. Despite Campbell’s strident opposition to his native land’s embracing of apartheid and White Supremacy, as well as his denunciations of international fascism and anti-Semitism, he was canceled by the liberal establishment from the literary canon of Western poets —likely due to his decision to convert to Catholicism after witnessing and reporting on the atrocities by the communists against Catholics and others during the Spanish Civil War. More recently, critics such as Joseph Pearce, Roger Scruton and Jorge Luis Borges have sought to resuscitate his reputation. Campbell’s friends and supporters spanned the political spectrum – from George Orwell to Dylan Thomas to J.R.R. Tolkien. In his fight against apartheid, Campbell collaborated with fellow prominent South African writers, including Alan Paton, Laurence van der Post and Uye Krige.
Here's something you might be interested in.
Roy Campbell: friends and supporters from George Orwell to Dylan Thomas to J.R.R. Tolkien
Critics such as Joseph Pearce, Roger Scruton and Jorge Luis Borges have sought to resuscitate his reputation
Roy Campbell: friends and supporters from George Orwell to Dylan Thomas to J.R.R. Tolkien
Critics such as Joseph Pearce, Roger Scruton and Jorge Luis Borges have sought to resuscitate his reputation
- Autumn
- I love to see, when leaves depart,
- The clear anatomy arrive,
- Winter, the paragon of art,
- That kills all forms of life and feeling
- Save what is pure and will survive.
- Already now the clanging chains
- Of geese are harnessed to the moon:
- Stripped are the great sun-clouding planes:
- And the dark pines, their own revealing,
- Let in the needles of the noon.
- Strained by the gale the olives whiten
- Like hoary wrestlers bent with toil
- And, with the vines, their branches lighten
- To brim our vats where summer lingers
- In the red froth and sun-gold oil.
- Soon on our hearth’s reviving pyre
- Their rotted stems will crumble up:
- And like a ruby, panting fire,
- The grape will redden on your fingers
- Through the lit crystal of the cup.
- Mass at Dawn
- I dropped my sail and dried my dripping seines
- Where the white quay is chequered by cool planes
- In whose great branches, always out of sight,
- The nightingales are singing day and night.
- Though all was grey beneath the moon’s grey beam,
- My boat in her new paint shone like a bride,
- And silver in my baskets shone the bream:
- My arms were tired and I was heavy-eyed,
- But when with food and drink, at morning-light,
- The children met me at the water-side,
- Never was wine so red or bread so white.
- Christ in Uniform
- Close at my side a girl and boy
- Fell firing, in the doorway here,
- Collapsing with a strangled cheer
- As on the very couch of joy,
- And onward through a wall of fire
- A thousand others rolled the surge,
- And where a dozen men expire
- A hundred myrmidons emerge —
- As if the Christ, our Solar Sire,
- Magnificent in their intent,
- Returned the bloody way he went,
- Of so much blood, of such desire,
- And so much valour proudly spent,
- To weld a single heart of fire.
Roy Campbell
Roy Campbell (1901-1957) was a South African poet, literary critic and translator. Despite Campbell’s strident opposition to his native land’s embracing of apartheid and White Supremacy, as well as his denunciations of international fascism and anti-Semitism, he was canceled by the liberal establishment from the literary canon of Western poets —likely due to his decision to convert to Catholicism after witnessing and reporting on the atrocities by the communists against Catholics and others during the Spanish Civil War. More recently, critics such as Joseph Pearce, Roger Scruton and Jorge Luis Borges have sought to resuscitate his reputation. Campbell’s friends and supporters spanned the political spectrum – from George Orwell to Dylan Thomas to J.R.R. Tolkien. In his fight against apartheid, Campbell collaborated with fellow prominent South African writers, including Alan Paton, Laurence van der Post and Uye Krige.
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