Ted Hughes 1930-1998

This house has been far out at sea all night,

The woods crashing through darkness, the booming hills,

Winds stampeding the fields…

(from ‘Wind’, Hawk in the Rain, 1957)

The wind howled like a Greek chorus and rain splattered the landscape on the night Ted Hughes died (29 October 1998), as if the very elements were mourning his loss. Morag Styles considers his contribution to children’s literature.

The enormous sense of loss felt by so many for this extraordinary writer has been apparent all over Britain. Born in Mytholmroyd, Yorkshire in 1930, Hughes won an exhibition to read English (he later switched to Archeology & Anthropology) at Pembroke College, Cambridge, where he met his first wife, Sylvia Plath. Her suicide in 1963, while they were separated, left Hughes with more than a family tragedy to contend with; he endured lifelong vilification from those who misguidedly blamed him for Plath’s death.

The Hawk in the Rain (1957) established Hughes’ reputation as one of the most original poets writing in Britain. The prolific output of poetry, essays, edited volumes and writing for children since then confirmed his place in the annals of English literature. Hughes went through an uneven patch in the middle of his life and some were disappointed in the ceremonial poems he wrote after becoming Poet Laureate in 1984. But in what tragically turned out to be the last year of his life, he was crowned with honours – he was awarded the Order of Merit, the Forward Prize for Birthday Letters (1998), the Whitbread for Tales from Ovid (1997) and accolades for his translation of Racine’s Phèdre, currently running to packed houses in the West End.

Commitment to Young Readers

Hughes had a life-long commitment to young readers and apprentice writers. He was largely responsible for setting up the Arvon Foundation which provides subsidised writing courses in rural settings such as Totleigh Barton, situated near his Devon home. Fame did not stop him from putting in time as a judge for children’s writing competitions and he encouraged talented teachers like Jill Pirrie to publish their ideas, writing the foreword to her inspirational guide to teaching poetry, On Common Ground (1987/1994). His last initiative was to help establish the Children’s Laureate (See BfK No.113) on which he worked tirelessly with Michael Morpurgo.

Hughes began to write for the young when his two children were small: Meet My Folks (1961), How the Whale Became (1963) and The Iron Man (1968) were taken up enthusiastically by both children and teachers. The Iron Man has been variously described as a modern fairy tale, an allegory, a myth; this dramatic story, which I have observed just independent readers consume voraciously, could probably only have been written by a poet, the language is so spare and rich. Hughes went on to write many distinguished books of poems and stories for children. Faber reissued all his animal poems in four volumes in 1995, including The Iron Wolf which is his most accessible collection for younger readers. A new illustrated edition of his nature poetry is forthcoming.

Using Poetry with Young People

Hughes endeared himself to the teaching profession (he taught in a Cambridge comprehensive school for a short time, so he knew what he was talking about) by publishing Poetry in the Making (1967) based on a sequence of Schools Radio Programmes. It is still the best book available on reading and writing poetry with young people. In the recent By Heart: 101 Poems to Remember (1997), he made a strong case for knowing poetry by heart, while deprecating rote learning. He viewed the latter as joyless and counter productive for many pupils, whereas memorising ‘strongly visualised imagery’ could be done as a game, if linked with free choice, pleasure and the ancient magic of words. The Rattle Bag, co-edited with Seamus Heaney (1982), is a veritable treasure trove of a poetry anthology, packed with surprises and treats, but always nourishing.

Hughes and Nature

Nature poetry came of age with Hughes’ uncompromising poetic vision full of savagery and beauty. He views animals without sentimentality, often locating them in a mystical landscape; the most outstanding example of this is What is the Truth? (1984/1995) which won the Signal Award. The only reason I did not try to swat the single winter fly droning irritatingly round the kitchen yesterday was that Hughes taught me to feel differently about flies (and sheep and crows and salmon and badgers). His fly is

A freshly barbered sultan, royally armoured

In dusky rainbow metals.

A knight on a black horse.

(from ‘The Fly’, What is the Truth?, 1984)

A powerful voice has been lost – but not, of course, silenced: Hughes will live on through his poetry and fiction in the hearts of present and future readers.

Thought to be the last poem he wrote before his death, Gulls is Hughes’ legacy to Children. It will be published shortly by Faber & Faber in an anthology of Hughes’ poems about the sea and its creatures, The Mermaid’s Purse.

Gulls

Gulls are glanced from the lift

Of cliffing air

And left

Loitering in the descending drift,

Or tilt gradient and go

Down steep invisible clefts in the

Grain

Of air, blading against the blow,

Back-flip, wisp

Over the foam-galled green

Building seas, and they scissor

Tossed spray, shave sheen,

Wing-waltzing their shadows

Over the green hollows,

Or rise again in the wind’s landward

Rush

And, hurdling the thundering bush

With the stone wall flung in their

Faces,

Repeat their graces.

Morag Styles is Language Coordinator at Homerton College, Cambridge.