Serious Concerns

Wendy Cope’s poems are so funny that some critics have pigeonholed her as a comic poet or a purveyor of light verse. This view of Cope as an entertaining lightweight - popular but not to be taken too seriously - couldn’t be further from the truth. She is a very serious poet indeed, but one who understands that seriousness and humour are not opposites; a simple truth, albeit one which a certain kind of mentality does seem to struggle with.

This was her second collection and some of the poems are responses to the sometimes patronising reviews of her first, Making Cocoa for Kingsley Amis. A poem about life being awful, no matter what you do, is sardonically entitled Some More Light Verse. The title poem is a reply to a review in the show more Spectator magazine which suggested that her poems were written ‘to amuse’, and cited her wit and lack of pretension as limitations. Cope wonders how she should resolve this problem; by ‘being less witty? Or more pretentious? Or both?’ The poem ends-:

‘Write to amuse? What an appalling suggestion!
I write to make people anxious and miserable and to
worsen their indigestion.’

Cope is a brilliant parodist of male poets and there are some hilariously biting parodies in this volume, written by her alter ego Jason Strugnell, bard of Tulse Hill. The main focus, however, is on relationships and there is a great deal of anger here. Some of the titles tell their own story: Bloody Men, Tumps (Typically Useless Male Poets), and Men and Their Boring Arguments-:

‘What makes men so tedious
Is the need to show off and compete.
They’ll bore you to death for hours and hours
Before they’ll admit defeat.’

Her tone can be much gentler. The poignant Flowers, about a former lover who was always intending to bring her flowers but never quite got round to it, hovers ambivalently between reproach and forgiveness-:

‘It made me smile and hug you then.
Now I can only smile.
But, look, the flowers you nearly brought
Have lasted all this while.’

Despite moments of contentment and happiness (as in the beautiful and deeply moving The Orange), Cope’s vision here is mainly a bleak one: relationships are impossible and being single is hell. Reading this book Thoreau’s quote about most people living lives of quite desperation often came to mind. These poems are a cry from the suburbs, though one of defiance as much as despair. The wit and humour are not sugar coating but an integral part of her outlook. Life is both funny and sad, often at the same time, and so are Cope’s poems. Her work is technically accomplished and sharply focussed, yet full of raw emotion; caustic, tender, accusatory, irreverent, vulnerable, and unrelentingly honest. The laughter provoked by her poetry is that of recognition. Wendy Cope makes me laugh because she tells the truth about herself and life. show less

There were a few poems which I really enjoyed particularly "Bloody Men", "Flowers" and "Advice for young women" but overall I found the commitment to rhyme and structure too much.

4.5. Witty, homely, funny and surprisingly touching. I laughed after a fair few and ended the last trio crying.

Favourite poems, in no order:
The Orange
Some More Light Verse
An Unusual Cat-Poem
Goldfish Nation
An Argument With Wordsworth
Magnetic
Exchange of Letters
Letter
New Season
Legacy
Names
For My Sister, Emigrating

Who writes better light verse than Wendy Cope? Serious concerns, indeed.

I really like comic poetry, and was pleasantly surprised that this book didn't feel too dated. Wendy Cope reminds me of Dorothy Parker and Stevie Smith, although I'm sure there are other comparisons that would be more apt.

The Faber & Faber cover just kills me.

I seldom read poetry, it is just not my thing but every once in a while I find myself reading some and am surprised to find how much I enjoy it.

'Men and Their Boring Arguments' speaks to me on a deep personal level.