<p>'No poet writing today matches John Clegg for wit and rigour. <em>Holy Toledo!</em> opens up a brilliant, uncanny frontier between the American West and the England of Empson, Davie and Woolf. Questioning language, rejoicing in it, Clegg's poetry plunges headfirst into the Great Tradition and comes out swinging.'<br />
<strong>Dai George</strong></p>
<p>'Shaking off the dust of Cambridge, John Clegg spoors Bloomsbury, and then - <em>Holy Toledo!</em> - enters some western from another planet. Whatever horse he rides he makes it go, a lasso his modus operandi for capturing images.'<br />
<strong>Marius Kociejowski</strong></p>
Sometime during the twentieth century, the self-mythology of the literary critic fused with that of the cowboy: lone outriders practising a defunct trade. In Holy Toldedo! John Clegg tracks the criticâs silhouette over the dangerous, sun-drenched landscapes of New Mexico, California, Nashville, Utah, Oxford, Cambridge, and London. Here is Donald Davie listening to gospel radio in a Nashville taxi, and here is F.R. Leavis standing on a chair, âunscrewing instead the world from round the lightbulbâ. Vistas of bristlecone and citrus groves, pocked with fruit flies and rain birds, fuse with the glib-core of Oxbridge England, the university science labs where âall three entrances felt like the back wayâ. Holy Toledo!is a history of English literary criticism in the twentieth century, a bestiary of the American Southwest, an unreliable guide to the desert. Generous, humorous, happily askew, Cleggâs first Carcanet collection signals the flourishing of an âemergingâ poet as a major voice.
Cover Image: Unattributed Mexican ex voto tablet, 1960, depicting Death, the Virgen del Carmen, and a man on horseback cheating Death
reads a poem Rilkeâs way,
now change your life, bam,
now, presumably, change it again.
Youâd never get through an anthology.
Really to read properly is to buzz low over
our future lives in a cropduster,
throwing out stumbling blocks.
from âPeach Treeâ