tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13609842.post947478033441316386..comments2023-10-30T09:26:32.732+00:00Comments on Now's the time: knocker, Ruth, treeAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06972049290586377462noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13609842.post-46064671917736185102010-10-25T12:57:12.935+01:002010-10-25T12:57:12.935+01:00An unexpectedly pleasurable talk at the Hay Festiv...An unexpectedly pleasurable talk at the Hay Festival was given by a man who'd written a book about the logistics of creating the King James Version. Committees and sub-committees, chairman with limited responsibility to approve some things but not others, then the ultimate authority. Sounds as dry as dust but it was fascinating and, at the back of our minds, we had the reassuring evidence that the system had worked well.<br /><br />All of which brings me to that achingly moving line: "for whither thou goest I will go, and where..." which touches on the poetic minefield of repetition. Poetry (verse in my case) is the antithesis of repetition, one tells oneself. Poetry is mainly compression. And yet if the line has a special kind of certainty and the writer is confident enough, all or part of what has gone before may be repeated. The test will be: does it seem inevitable?Roderick Robinsonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16828395545197001637noreply@blogger.com