Elizabeth Smither
Auckland University Press
We have just had lunch and Michael Smither and I are standing discussing, in that dogmatic male way, the problems of contemporary music, before moving outside and downstairs to his studio to look at his latest paintings.
Elizabeth, his wife at that time, is sitting on a chair (or was it a couch?), wisely ignoring us. In one hand, she has a notebook; in the other, a pen. It is the expression in her eyes that I remember best: a combination of alert, amused and inquiring. She had not long begun writing seriously and at that stage, if I remember correctly, had not been published, although her first startlingly terrific collection of poems, Here Come The Clouds, soon would be.
Those qualities of alertness, observation, humour and inquiry, so essential to any writer, are present in abundance in The Commonplace Book, perhaps her most personal volume in a long and successful career.
I'm not sure if anyone, other than writers and magpies like myself, these days keeps a commonplace book. I'm not even sure how old the practice is but it is certainly a matter of centuries. I suspect those who do keep one have different systems: mine is to randomly clip items, including recipes, gardening notes, aphorisms and so on from newspapers and magazines and stick them in - even, on occasion, paste the odd leaf of a shrub or flower I feel the garden might need one day, or that appeals to my eye. Smither's system seems to have been largely a matter of writing down extracts and quotations from books or remarks by writers, and the selection repeated here comes from three commonplace books.
They cover a wide range of opinions from the profound to the outrageous. Many, not surprisingly, are by poets. But she does much more than simply quote poets. The recorded quotations are merely starting points, for after each she writes a short essay in which the personal most frequently features, as do shrewd observation, wisdom hard-learned (she is now in her 70th year) and a camera's-eye view of a writer's habits.
Occasionally, a familiar name crops up and is usually treated kindly - her purpose is not to denigrate, although she can be sharp with irritants and the irritating. Nor does she confine her reflections to this country. Smither has travelled widely as a guest at readings and literary festivals - France is clearly a place she has much fondness for - and she has a wide circle of friends and correspondents.
Her observations therefore have an international breadth and the book is filled with a great cast of characters.
What strikes me most forcefully about such a modest paperback is the power and quality of the writing. It is such a pleasure to read. I would suggest it be imbibed slowly, perhaps dipping in here and there, so as to savour best the broadest possible reach of its sensibilities.
The Commonplace Book is one of Smither's very best efforts, appealing, I should think, to all mature reading ages, and a fine gift for aspiring writers, who should find both inspiration and the reasons for perspiration couched within its pages.
- Bryan James is the Books Editor.
