November 21, 2024 11:25 pm

QUITE RADICAL, BUT POWERLESS TO DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT – John Fuller / Think about literature

Becoming poet, novelist and critic

It has been a market town since the 13th century. Ashford, a town in the county of Kent, it lies on the River Great Stour, about 61 miles (98 km) southeast of central London. Its St Mary’s Church, has been a landmark since the 13th century, and now it functions as a centre for worship and entertainment. In St Georges Square, near the town centre, a Mk. IV tank (used in World War I), was presented to the town on 1919 to thank the townsfolk for their war efforts. The list of people from Ashford include Frederick Forsyth (author and political commentator), Oli Sykes (vocalist for band Bring Me The Horizon) and the poet John Fuller.

His house it sits at the end of a quiet street in north Oxford, where he settled in the 1960s. His novel “Flying to Nowhere” (a historical fantasy), won the Whitbread First Novel Award. In 1996 he won the Forward Prize for “Stones and Fires”. He was born inborn at Ashford (Kent) in a January day,1937. For many years, he ran a private press. JOHN FULLER is a poettic significant presence in British letters. His Collection Poems were published in 1996. He also wrote the love lyrics for Nicola LeFanu’s “The Tongue and the Heart” (for soprano and cello). To date, he has written tender love lyrics and elegant songs, but also philosophical meditations. He has really led a prolific writing career, publishing collections of poetry. From 1966 to 2002 he was a Fellow and tutor of Magdalen College (Oxford), but he began teaching at the State University of New York, then continued at the University of Manchester.

THE CURABLE ROMANTICReturning from the encounter he finds the room excited: walls flash mirrors like glances that require the intended meeting of eyes and furniture is cager to be married to the restless shapes it was made for. Chess pieces go off quietly like pistols in the irregular rhythm of a paso doble. Lamps blaze, and books somnambulate. One of these, settling in his hand like another hand, tells him insistently of a reckless love and closes shyly with a sigh. When he puts it back on the shelf the room subsides at last into calm and he is left alone with his remembrances.

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