Leafless

A bit of a struggle on all fronts today. Writing like pulling hens teeth, and putting me in mind of John Keats: That if Poetry comes not as naturally as the leaves to a tree it had better not come at all. I am questioning the whole business of the Doppelganger. It is not enough to set up a situation dramatically where a Doppelganger exists and the whole dilemma is about whether the protagonist is having a breakdown or not. This is the territory of Dostoevsky. Conrad in The Secret Sharer (Toby made me read it) is more deftly handled but still ultimately you are left with the same question. My Doppelganger poem published in Iron magazine years ago Someone-else's patch was more about the overlapping claims on territory. This gave it a slightly different edge. But I think Matt and I need a fresh take.

Went to the gym where the psychological and overall fitness benefit outweighs the knee gyp. Home to send wrangling emails to hasten a long overdue payment from the French. I am losing patience, however the new UK boss is very helpful and with today's prompting there should be another payday soon.

Met Matt briefly in The Basketmakers who is troubled by the idea of dancing lesbians at the moment. The theatre we have earmarked for this project is over a pub mainly used by lesbians. Apparently they insist on pumping up the volume of the speakers to dance with no regard for the show going on upstairs. Matt has visions of his music being interrupted by a Sapphic bacchanalia, and so we may look elsewhere.

Chatted also to Rich a writer who shared some of his wrong-headed opinions about literature and writing. He did however tell me that he had tried drunkenly to lift JH Prynne (a difficult but rewarding poet) from his feet after attending a series of seminars led by him. A wonderful Lucky Jim style moment. Would have been great to have seen this.

Home and quiet cups of tea.

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