Philip Larkin

… straight to the heart

This Be The Verse

by Philip Larkin

Copyright Credit: Philip Larkin, "This Be the Verse" from Collected Poems. Copyright © Estate of Philip Larkin. 

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.   

    They may not mean to, but they do.   

They fill you with the faults they had

    And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn

    By fools in old-style hats and coats,   

Who half the time were soppy-stern

    And half at one another’s throats.

Man hands on misery to man.

    It deepens like a coastal shelf.

Get out as early as you can,

    And don’t have any kids yourself.

'This Be the Verse' read by the author.

Larkin Portraits

Larkin is a perfect subject for this site. Both an accomplished photographer AND poet, he reaches out to us with his peerless imperfection (specifically his work).

His poetry is easy and arduous, clean and complicated; always relatable. If you have a feeling, there’s a Larkin poem to illustrate, interpret and demystify it.

His photography is a celebration of daily life; the important and the insignificant, the famous and the anonymous, all recorded with care and diligence.

His body of work defines a more cynical take on life, often bleak in tone. Jean Hartley expresses it best: “Larkin’s style is a “sharp mixture of lyricism and gloominess.”

Larkin’s style has been characterized as a mixture of common language, contradiction, clarity, a somber quality, irony, and directness. It deals with commonplace experiences, which makes it so relatable.

Afternoons (1959)

Summer is fading:

The leaves fall in ones and twos

From trees bordering

The new recreation ground.

In the hollows of afternoons

Young mothers assemble

At swing and sandpit

Setting free their children.

Behind them, at intervals,

Stand husbands in skilled trades,

An estateful of washing,

And the albums, lettered

Our Wedding, lying

Near the television:

Before them, the wind

Is ruining their courting-places

That are still courting-places

(But the lovers are all in school),

And their children, so intent on

Finding more unripe acorns,

Expect to be taken home.

Their beauty has thickened.

Something is pushing them

To the side of their own lives

QUOTES

I have no enemies. But my friends don’t like me.
— Philip Larkin
In everyone there sleeps
A sense of life lived according to love.
To some it means the difference they could make
By loving others, but across most it sweeps,
As all they might have done had they been loved.
That nothing cures.
— Philip Larkin
Originality is being different from oneself, not others.
— Philip Larkin: Letters to Monica