posted by Michele
Robin Hyde spent most of 1937, her last year in New Zealand, living on the Shore in a series of baches in Castor Bay and Milford. It was a very difficult year but she got a lot of writing done before leaving for England in January 1938. Here she is, taking a bus ride from Devonport to Milford, finding diverse company along the way.
And already the poem is out of date: Sonja Yelich’s new collection Get Some (Auckland UP) was launched last week in Devonport and Stu Bagby had the first copies of Just Another Fantastic Anthology: Auckland in Poetry (Antediluvian Press) in the boot of his car last night. Watch that space!
shore space
Robin Hyde is getting off the ferry
weeping like Niobe she's been to see
Work and Income and her case manager
is not enthusiastic about the novel
or the new poetry collection her tears fell
like marrow fat peas as she crossed the harbour
but now the sun is mopping them up
she posts a letter to John A Lee telling him
she is not pregnant with a third child
and his government should do something
about the land grab going on at Orakei
then she catches the bus for Takapuna
and contemplates the shape of things to come
as it rattles along the waterfront
look there's the Fairburn house
but no Rex he was sent to buy chops
for the family dinner and wandered off
to the Masonic where the public bar
is critiquing the second draft of Dominion
Robin Hyde waves from the bus
the bar waves back bring us yours
next time you’re down this way they call
she pats the typescript in her bag
a little book of dream and philosophy
something for everyone there
and here's Kevin Ireland with jaunty Sid
heading for the cricket pavilion
after a narrow escape from the fangs
of a neighbourhood fiend in Domain St
Sonja Yelich pulls alongside honk honk
in a big car full of kids and books
caught your last one on National Radio
she calls let me know if there’s anything
I can do Robin Hyde perks up
as the bus swings past Narrow Neck
look at all those sailboats surely one or two
hold world-class poets in the making
she likes the look of the bicycle lanes
on Lake Rd she spots Frank Sargeson
ambling home to Esmonde Rd hey Frank
let's get together next week at my place
the pale idea of Janet Frame floats
around the corner but this is not the moment
to compare notes on mental health
and anyway the bus is grinding past the lake
where Leigh and Susan Davis
are watching rowers and swans drift past
on a perfect map of the sky
isn’t that tony green tony green tony green
jogging by in lycra and an experimental hat?
Robin Hyde gets off the bus in Milford
and down the road comes Wystan Curnow
fresh from a swim at Castor Bay
with D'Arcy Cresswell and Sam Hunt
they've heard about the plan
to sail for England and are here to offer help
with packing when the time arrives
Robin Hyde is touched guys that's awesome
she thanks them and they all walk up
the hill to Prospect Terrace
to meet the gang of people waiting there
it’s quite a scene a small room
with large windows overlooking Rangitoto
John Yelash and Robin Dudding uncork the Lemora
Greville Texidor tangos past with Anna Kavan
Mary Stanley blows a kiss
to three boys trailing home with towels
and a typewriter thumps in the back room
where Kendrick Smithyman is putting
finishing touches to the masterpiece of the day
he hands out copies and everyone
offers comment so useful
he gets back on the job right away
Stu Bagby's asking for contributions
to Great New Zealand Sex Poems Volume II
Jan Kemp is arranging TV contracts
for those whose Collected Works have gone
platinum on international charts yes platinum
Keith Sinclair's heart is in his mouth
be kind to one another, kiss a little
and here's Karl Stead fronting up
with the keys to a London flat please I insist
the big pohutukawa at the gate
leans out over the iron roof fantails hop
in a mesh of boughs the typewriter thunders on
above the talk of poets living and dead
and suddenly Robin Hyde no longer minds
that the landlady wants her out
in time to catch the Christmas rentals
Kendrick look there's this new machine
I could take overseas why don't you keep
my old clunker she's bought
the tickets to go to England by way of China
Japan Russia Germany and France
the whole World War just waiting
to happen and who knows
what will become of her novels her letters
and her poetry collections one thing's
for sure she would be pleased
this spring afternoon above the bays
where gorse and mangroves present
a united front and choko vines run wild
she would be pleased to see Jack Ross
and friends rolling in with a box of books
and a sausage sizzle to do a fundraiser
for a poet who has run out of cornflakes
on the other side of the world Robin Hyde
is living on baked beans and disprins
soon she will leave the places we can see
and walk the seaward road that glistens
with disappearances she waves her stick
in farewell as the sun goes down
on the blue and blissful bay she finds a piece
of Exquisite Bond in the wilderness of paper
that is her boat and starts to write
Image: Robin Hyde, 1936
Photographer: Spencer Digby
From Young Knowledge: The Poems of Robin Hyde, Auckland University Press, 2003
1 comment:
Hi,
What a wonderful poem - I will delight in showing it to visiting booky Canadian friends to whom I gave a quick Auckland literary tour a couple of weeks back. We did nip over to the Shore and looked at a very few places on the extensive literary tour brochure put out by North Shore City, but this will put the whole thing into greater perspective, without the need for another road trip.
Many thanks,
Claire
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