White Eyes, Dark Ages by Deborah Randall
White Eyes, Dark Ages is a portrait by many hands of that eminent Victorian, John Ruskin, painted by a poet writing a century after his death. Deborah Randall pictures Ruskin, the inner man, through the eyes of his women: his young wife Effie, who left him for the painter Millais; Rose La Touche, who died on him; and his indulgent cousin Joan Severn. But this isn't a biography, or a conventional portrait. Ruskin said only the broken mirror can tell you what love means. Deborah Randall's poems holds a broken mirror to a man deeply divided, his thoughts fragmented, a man 'doomed' - his father said - 'to enlighten a people by his wisdom'. Ruskin speaks in parts: - No good or lovely thing exists in this world without its correspendent darkness... - I have hardly any real warmth of feeling, except for pictures and mountains... - I want somebody to be kind to me without making me think - or feel... - Do I want to keep her from growing up? Of course I do... And he and his women answer back in poems showing the many facets of a genius tormented in his twilight years by painful joys and disappointments.
Deborah Randall has a distinctive, sexy bravado which gladdens the heart-- Carol Ann Duffy
An extraordinary blend of rawness and refinement. * Books in Scotland *
Deborah Randall's poems are astonishing. Sometimes I'm tempted to call her a genius, although I'm sure she'd laugh at such bloated terminology, judging by her work, which is earthed, gutsy, fiery and sensual in its dealings with the basics of life and death. This is her first collection: there is the odd echo of Sylvia Plath, Dylan Thomas or George Mackay Brown, but the tactics and cunning could only be Deborah Randall's and the rhythms are her own. Her poems are often easing in their slantwise approach, and she draws on the myth-kitty as and when it suits her purposes, but she plants surprises and her timing is exact. Hers is a deft and womanly art, as direct and disorientating as a ride on the Big Dipper. -- Sylvia Kantaris
An extraordinary blend of rawness and refinement. * Books in Scotland *
Deborah Randall's poems are astonishing. Sometimes I'm tempted to call her a genius, although I'm sure she'd laugh at such bloated terminology, judging by her work, which is earthed, gutsy, fiery and sensual in its dealings with the basics of life and death. This is her first collection: there is the odd echo of Sylvia Plath, Dylan Thomas or George Mackay Brown, but the tactics and cunning could only be Deborah Randall's and the rhythms are her own. Her poems are often easing in their slantwise approach, and she draws on the myth-kitty as and when it suits her purposes, but she plants surprises and her timing is exact. Hers is a deft and womanly art, as direct and disorientating as a ride on the Big Dipper. -- Sylvia Kantaris
Deborah Randall's first collection, The Sin Eater (Bloodaxe Books, 1989), was a Poetry Book Society Recommendation, and won her a Scottish Arts Council Book Award. In 1987 she won first prize in the Bloodaxe and Bridport poetry competitions. Born in 1957 in Hampshire, she now lives in Ullapool in Scotland.
| SKU | Unavailable |
| ISBN 13 | 9781852242220 |
| ISBN 10 | 1852242221 |
| Title | White Eyes, Dark Ages |
| Author | Deborah Randall |
| Condition | Unavailable |
| Binding Type | Paperback |
| Publisher | Bloodaxe Books Ltd |
| Year published | 1993-10-14 |
| Number of pages | 64 |
| Cover note | Book picture is for illustrative purposes only, actual binding, cover or edition may vary. |
| Note | Unavailable |