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The idea of writing a sonnet series was no flash of
inspiration. I had decided that Daniel, in Adulteress
Anonymous, should convey his feelings, in part at least,
with verse. You can read the reason in the introduction to
From Daniel To Frances. It sounds precious,
but given the fact that Frances allows herself to meet
Daniel for love-making only three or four times a year, not
totally so. After all, if he can’t write letters or ring her
(partly for reasons of secrecy and partly because she thinks
her conscience would be unable to stand the strain) what
else is the poor man to do? A couple of concertinaed hours,
largely and understandably devoted to such sexual activity
as she permits, is hardly likely to be enough.
Thus, one day, while walking, but for no obvious reason,
I thought of the first lines of sonnet 1. I chose the
Shakespearian format, as the only one I had any experience
of, rather than with any thought of imitation. After all,
Haydn invented the string quartet structure but that hardly
meant Mozart wasn’t allowed to use it too, as well as
innumerable composers since. And I found the exercise
interesting, and simply went on writing more sonnets,
aiming, as I explain in the introduction, to cover as many
angles I could imagine Daniel might come up with, though I
wrote some modern verse for him too.
I had written sonnets before (see Gallimaufry), so
I can’t pretend I was without experience, but the
fascination I now felt persuaded me to go on long after I
need have done. And I have written sonnets since, some of
them about grief, or ugliness. Clearly the sonnet form
greatly satisfies me, and in number 46 I say why – it being
a sonnet about the sonnet. I am particularly taken by the
appositeness of the constraint which the original rules of
sonnet-writing impose, or at least used to before most of
them were broken by later writers.
Still, all rules are artificial, there to be broken. It
is no more logical to break them than to stick with them. So
I do both. And whichever I choose to do (and who but pedants
or professors of Eng Lit will know or care) my guide is not
whether I am being correct in the literary sense or
otherwise, but whether I am producing words which say
something, and might be both memorable, and if possible,
pleasing to the ear. Thus I have a sonnet which is a single
sentence, a sonnet which takes word repetition (a
Shakespearian trait) to extreme lengths, another which
starts every line with the same word, and so forth.
My hope is that although these 80 sonnets refer to a
particular – and peculiar – love affair, lovers of every
kind will also find them interesting, puzzling as they do
about the nature of love itself. Besides, any new gift for
Valentine’s Day is never unwelcome! |