{"id":7887,"date":"2022-12-01T12:46:11","date_gmt":"2022-12-01T12:46:11","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/?p=7887"},"modified":"2022-12-02T12:37:00","modified_gmt":"2022-12-02T12:37:00","slug":"ian-brinton-three-letters-from-john-james-to-jh-prynne","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/7887\/ian-brinton-three-letters-from-john-james-to-jh-prynne\/","title":{"rendered":"Ian Brinton: Three Letters from John James to JH Prynne"},"content":{"rendered":"<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\"><strong>John James and J.H. Prynne<\/strong><\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Three letters written from John James to J.H. Prynne referring to texts which had been exchanged between the two poets. The letters are held in the Cambridge University Library Poetry Archive.<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">I<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Written from Ross Street in Cambridge and dated 29<sup>th<\/sup> December 1994:<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Dear Jeremy<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Many thanks for sending me a copy of <em>Her Weasels Wild<\/em> back in May. It was much appreciated. I had time merely to tarry lovingly over the fur in a stolen diversion from my not-feel-good &amp; job-enslaved abjection. Later in the midst of a bold defiance I carried it with me on an all too short excursion into the oaken fastness of the deep Morvan but was so possessed by the pursuit of the sacred that this singular liturgy remained in case &amp; unleafed. Soon enough I was back to the flickering terror of uncertain salary lighting &amp; it\u2019s only very recently I\u2019ve broken off from that &amp; opened up my preferential hermitage again &amp; in the tranquillity of sanctified habit I\u2019m reading &amp; writing &amp; reading &amp; taking this potlatch down in gulps. Such gorgeously SF erotica: \u201cher wings in speedy strip like a shadow in the sand \/ or in growth like natural reason, her heart so vast \/ as justly to make cause with the fiery fountain sealed \/ on track right across <em>terra nullius<\/em> overhead. I knew \/ that, she made me see the light level cracking along \/ her trebled skyline: I held my view. Blizzard loyal \/ transgenic pulsation she\u2019ll take both up to a dish \/ off the bone dropping away to a strut canopy, eyes \/ blue on blue aptitude so sweet.\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Over &amp; out<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">John<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">II<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Written on 17<sup>th<\/sup> October 2014 from John James\u2019s address in Coleridge Road, Cambridge:<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Dear Jeremy<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Many thanks for the copy of <em>Al-Dente<\/em> \u2013 a gorgeous, tarte Tatin avec cr\u00e8me \u00e9paisse \u2013 \u2018You know it as to do \/ and have in prospect willed.\u2019<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Indeed, and is the spur to write, to wish to make a work of similar if not equal power.<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Incidentally, the chance exchange of this with \u2018The River\u2019 looks like a coincidental crossing of recycled text.<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Face Press does a most elegant job.<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">I\u2019m currently at Coleridge Heights striving to catch up with neglected domestic chores in between trying to make a new piece.<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">I\u2019ll look out for you next time I venture into the historic centre which I seldom do. I pretty much live the life of a recluse while I\u2019m here.<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">What happened to the Cambridge School? Which reminds me, I was sorry to miss your talk at the Library in February \u2013 I was away. Is there a recording or transcript?<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Alora<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">John<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">III<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Written from Coleridge Road dated 17<sup>th<\/sup> August 2016.<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Dear Jeremy<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">I was moved and thankful to receive your packet of 20 July with the enclosed copy of \u2018John in the Blooded Phoenix\u2019 from <em>The White Stones<\/em>; a double affirmation. I always knew of course. I vividly remember that moment and indeed others and the regard all of which we shared through decisive and formative days. I love <em>The White Stones<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">By way of heartfelt reciprocation I hope you will accept the enclosed copy of \u2018Breakfast at Red Lodge\u2019 from <em>Cloud Breaking Sun<\/em> which celebrates our enduring comradeship.<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">I\u2019m only now able to send this following a leisurely haul northwards from Languedoc over three days and opening up the house and access to my books here at Coleridge yesterday.<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Con amore<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">John<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\"><strong>The two poems referred to in this last letter<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\"><strong>John in the Blooded Phoenix<br \/>\n<\/strong>J.H. Prynne<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Days are uncertain now and move by<br \/>\nflux gradients laid by the rare min-<br \/>\nerals, sodium in dreams of all the body<br \/>\ndrawn into one transcendent muscle:<br \/>\nthe dark shopfront at 3 a.m. But<br \/>\nwe are close to the ancient summits<br \/>\nof a figure cast for the age, the gas-<br \/>\nfire we sit by, the sharp smell of burning<br \/>\norange-peel. The axis of landform runs<br \/>\nthrough each muted interchange, the<br \/>\ntilt is a plausible deflexion of energy \/ now<br \/>\nwe are not at the side of anything.<br \/>\nIn the vision made by memories of metal<br \/>\nwe walk freely as if by omen over an<br \/>\nopen terrace, of land like chalky<br \/>\nsediment in soft water. It is the gas-fire<br \/>\nthat does it, I despise nothing which<br \/>\ncomes near a skyline as old as this.<br \/>\nWe could pace in our own fluids, we speak<br \/>\nin celestial parlance, our chemistry is<br \/>\nreduced to transfusion. Who would for-<br \/>\nbid fair Cleopatra smiling \/ on his poor<br \/>\nsoul, for her sweet sake still dying? If<br \/>\nhe were he is, the condition of prompt<br \/>\ndilatancy is exactly this : the palest<br \/>\nsingle spark in all the Pleiades.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\"><strong>Breakfast at Red Lodge<br \/>\n<\/strong>John James<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Stop on the Turnpike in the month of May<br \/>\n&amp; after breakfast head up country. From here on, says J,<br \/>\nGrinning over a serious forkful of Red Lodge Special,<br \/>\nWe\u2019re in the Texas of East Anglia.<br \/>\nIs that so, says J, with mock sobriety.<\/p>\n<p style=\"font-weight: 400;\">The counter of the caf\u00e9 painted cheerful red, the tea is hot &amp;\u00a0brown<br \/>\n&amp; the heads of passing saints smile down<br \/>\nfrom the wall on these two pilgrims<br \/>\nlaughing madly in the Hopper window<br \/>\nwhere space opens up into the blue beyond the red &amp; white<br \/>\nstripe canopy.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h4>Click here to go back to:\u00a0<a href=\"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/8008\/contributors-and-links-to-pages-1-4-4\/\">Contributors and Links to Pages 1 &#8211; 4<\/a><\/h4>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>John James and J.H. Prynne Three letters written from John James to J.H. Prynne referring to texts which had been exchanged between the two poets. The letters are held in the Cambridge University Library Poetry Archive. I Written from Ross Street in Cambridge and dated 29th December 1994: Dear Jeremy Many thanks for sending me [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":8145,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"footnotes":"","_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false},"categories":[68,12],"tags":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/11\/images.jpeg","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p42xiC-23d","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7887"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=7887"}],"version-history":[{"count":9,"href":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7887\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8302,"href":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7887\/revisions\/8302"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/8145"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=7887"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=7887"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/glasfrynproject.org.uk\/w\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=7887"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}