Coming to hear Simon Armitage read his poetry? You can leave your dust and resignation outside the door; brush off those
cobwebs and remember what poetry is really about: expression, freedom, creativity and communicating with an audience.
On the 15th September 2011 I was lucky enough to hear Armitage read his poetry at the Arnolfini in Bristol.
He didn’t waste time in beginning, but you could tell he was very relaxed about it all; something that definitely came across and
added to the good atmosphere. His introductions were short but snappy, and he didn’t make a meal of explaining every thought
that had gone into his poem. The first poem was, appropriately, about Bristol and though we weren’t told this at the beginning
it was recognisably (and positively) described which gave him instant familiarity with the Bristolians amongst us!
His reading was steady, smooth and rhythmic; the words fitted so neatly together as he spoke them that they
needed no dramatisation at all. Armitage had the audience in the palm of his hand, and laughing at every turn. His poetry really
can be genuinely funny without being patronising or affected. The poem the Christening had everyone chuckling throughout.
There is such personality in it:
“I have a brain the / size of a basketball and on that basis alone am entitled to / my opinions.”
And it is this personality, a slightly mad one it’s true, which stands out for me. Armitage has been called “samey” and if his poems
were less absurd I’d feel a danger of him falling into an “ordinary” category, good but nothing special. In Paul Sutton’s article
“the unoriginality of Simon Armitage” he points out where Armitage has lifted ideas from other people and TV shows and put them
into his poems, saying “it’s worrying when the inspiration is so obvious”. Paul Sutton is ignoring the fact that Armitage has taken
simple ideas, random ideas, and known ideas, thrown them in together in a purple cauldron, stirred vigorously, and ended up
with something that may have recognizable roots, but which is now thoroughly and uniquely his.
In An Accommodation, for example, there is a veil down the middle of a house shared by a couple; not an original idea.
But Armitage works into the tale sadness, nostalgia and hopelessness; perhaps the veil symbolizes death? Perhaps it
symbolizes a break-up? The poem takes on a new, individual meaning, and these are questions you are asking as you listen
to his Northern deadpan voice - a voice that melds with the words incredibly naturally, adding veracity to the whole experience.
This poem, An Accommodation, shows off Armitage’s range of moods and ability to speak to different audiences. Whilst another
poem such as the Christening is more light-hearted and eccentric, An Accommodation is more of an exploration of Armitage’s
serious side, allowing the meaningful and eloquent through into his off-the-wall work. His reading of this captured the crowd
more than any; there was utter silence as he read, all hanging on his every word. The poem is, contrastingly to
The Christening, extremely sad which reveals the full extent of his talent. Often with these poems read aloud, deep questions as
to the meaning of the poem come along after you’ve heard them; for example as he read You’re Beautiful the self-depreciation
is evident, until you question the genders it has so evidently assigned.
Before the reading at the Arnolfini, I had read an overview of his work across the arc of his career so far, rather than books all
from one time/in a similar mindset. I am glad I did so, for while I found Armitage’s work very diverse, I was always able to identify
his tone of voice – that tone is unique and accessible, ‘street-wise’ if you like, but it’s a lot wiser than that. One of my favourite
poems is It Ain’t What You Do It’s What It Does To You. Its message is completely summed up in the title, but what I specifically
like about it is what it doesn’t say; it doesn’t say that skydiving is not a worthwhile thing to do or fantastic thrill to seek, but it does
point out that there are things closer to home that are equal or better:
“…but I held the wobbly head of a boy / at the day centre, and stroked his fat hands.”
This poem speaks to me because I see the pride of the average person come through and show that actually, life’s
experience without fantastic voyages or impossible challenges can be uniquely fantastic and challenging -- eye-opening on a whole
new level that makes these voyages look almost commercialistic by comparison. Armitage’s communication in this poem is not
at all cynical; it is open to interpretation, and this is one of the strengths of his work. He does not tell you to think anything; his
voice is an evocative narrative that covers experiences in a sharp but receptive way, making you think without making your
head hurt!
Armitage is evidently a well weathered man, and his lack of gullibility, introversion or prissiness about things comes across in a
forthright but humorous way. In The Two of Us the decay of dead bodies shows that we all die alone and the earthworms
don’t care how we lived our lives, whether we were rich or poor. Another crack at the ultimate hollowness of commercialism…
All in all I don’t think I have ever enjoyed such consistently absorbing, intelligible poetry before! Reading and listening to
Simon Armitage’s work really ignites my love of rhythm and words (so often run down by exam texts).
The poetry is alive; and at its height there is nothing to equal it.
Anna Sutton