
Those who are beginning to find the media reportage of the appointment of
Carol Ann Duffy as poet laureate a little disingenuous may be revived by the words of
Robert Graves. Graves gave the Clark Lectures at Cambridge in 1954-5, and chose to speak about poetic patronage.
The history of literature shows that it is possible to sell poems without selling your soul: Graves' opening lecture, published in
The Crowning Privilege, makes an important distinction between poets who worked independently within a system of court patronage, retaining their style and dignity, and poets (often 'scops' or 'snobs') who produced mere flattery. Graves reminds us that poetry has been inextricably linked to royal patronage since the Anglo-Saxon period. He notes, wryly, that in the medieval period, ‘Slavish commendations of royalty had not become fashionable.' Poems addressed to a patron were more likely to incite debate, and even Chaucer used his
envoys to 'lecture Richard II on what kingly conduct should be.' Graves, who had no love for the establishment himself, notes that the dedications to patrons, common in poetry up to the period of Pope, were not only obsequious fawnings. The noble dedicatee often served the same purpose as the well-known reviewer on the modern blurb: the reader assumed that this would be quality verse. Duffy's predecessors may have been more unconventional and anarchic than is widely believed.
In the same lecture Graves continued the theme of his work
The White Goddess, pointing out that the poetic deity is perceived as female, whether the Irish Triple-goddess and patroness of poetry, Birgit, the Welsh Cerridwen, or Calliope, the most distinguished of the Muses. John Skelton, among others, paid homage to Calliope: ‘Regent is she/of poetes al’. Few will expect Duffy to bring supernatural powers to the laureateship. Perhaps she will find a better role-model in the druid-poet of pre-Christian Britain, who sat at the right-hand side of the powerful female monarch. According to Graves, this poet's duties included responsibility for the matriarch's insignificant male consort, ‘to stand continually by the king’s side and ensure that no accidental breach of royal taboo on his part – by eating beans, touching a dog, wearing a knot in his clothes, and so on – could endanger the safety or fertility of the realm.’ One wonders if Duffy might be able to take a similar custodial role with regard to the Duke of Edinburgh.
Robert Graves: Photograph copyright Rab Shiell