Carol Ann Duffy becomes first woman poet laureate

Source: Guardian

At last: 341 years after Charles II named John Dryden the first poet laureate, a woman has been appointed to the most prominent literary position in Britain.

Today, at the University of Manchester's John Rylands library, Carol Ann Duffy was anointed poet laureate by Andy Burnham, the secretary of state for culture, media and sport.

"It is a great day for women writers," said Duffy, who described the laureateship as "tending the flame" of poetry. "It highlights the way that women writers have changed the landscape of literature in this country … though I think guys will be pleased as well."

Ten years ago, she was reportedly ruled out of the laureateship because Tony Blair was concerned about how a gay poet laureate might play in middle England. Tonight a spokesman for Tony Blair denied this had been the case.

Duffy said that Britain had lately "grown up" in its attitude to sexuality. "It is fantastic that I am an openly gay writer ," she said. She hoped it would demonstrate that homosexuality is "a lovely, ordinary thing".



Read more: http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2009/may/01/carol-ann-duffy-poet-laureate1

I like Duffy's work.

It's surprising that we have had no female poet laureate before.

The Skin

I think that Duffy herself at one time expressed reservations about a post that involved things like writing poems for Edward and Sophie.

Still, in England anything that puts poetry in any sort of light other than That Soppy Stuff They Give You at School, or Immoral Stuff for Weirdos, is probably positive, even when it's a bit daft in itself.

hugs for Carol Ann

Because here (USA) we've had Leonie Adams, Elizabeth Bishop, Josephine Jackson, Maxine Kumin, Mona Van Duyn, Rita Dove, Louise Gluck, and apologies if I missed anyone.

She is
awfully young.

Valentine
by Carol Ann Duffy

Not a red rose or a satin heart.

I give you an onion.
It is a moon wrapped in brown paper.
It promises light
like the careful undressing of love.

Here.
It will blind you with tears
like a lover.
It will make your reflection
a wobbling photo of grief.

I am trying to be truthful.

Not a cute card or a kissogram.

I give you an onion.
Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips,
possessive and faithful
as we are,
for as long as we are.

Take it.
Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding-ring,
if you like.

Lethal.
Its scent will cling to your fingers,
cling to your knife.

She has a book of poems in the voices of wives and lovers of historically important men. One by "Mrs. Darwin" is a journal entry about a trip to the zoo, in which she says she told her husband the chimpanzee reminded her of him--LOL.