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Sun Behind the Castle
The Edinburgh of Angus Calder's poems is not the city of summer tourism and landmark buildings. It is the all-the-year-round arena of lingering mists or brilliant sunlight on grey stone, where seagulls and pigeons command the early-morning streets, curlers sweep their ice at Murrayfield and coarse sportsmen revel on the Meadows.
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What Reviewers Are Saying
These poems could not have been written anywhere but Edinburgh. This, the most beautiful, wry, challenging and haunting city in the British isles, with its "classic grey - most delicious of lourdness, an ecstasy of glum" is the true hero/heroine of the pages that follow. These poems have the confidence and lightness of words at home in their own streets. In the modern city, Calder displays his customary sharp, vivid observation and notes of pity, kindness and melancholy you don't find, for instance, in MacDiarmid. This is a lovely book. If only every city in this land had a poet like him, what a richer country it would seem. ANDREW MARR