ONE thing stands out quite clearly from this one-man show: Roger McGough could probably recite his shopping list and any audience - but particularly this one - would love it.
Perhaps they even admired his green cord pants and red trainers, but there you go.
'This one-man show showed he's still
more than capable of giving voice to his
Muse and, moreover, that live recitals of
prose poetry still matter amongst
the cacophony of contemporary life'
There's a particular kind of special relationship which McGough and the Liverpool Playhouse seem to have nurtured over the years. None more so than his literary evolution into the world of French, aristocratic, grande-salon adaptations of late. These include Tartuffe and The Hypochondriac, where he combined the subtleties of light comedy into a fully-fledged translation, through a novel use of rhyming couplets. No mean feat, particularly for a poet who prefers to convey emotion in open verse and haikus.
This was the original hallmark of the Mersey Sound poets (Adrian Henri, Brian Patten) which reflected a collective move towards a linguistic vernacular often brash and intensely personal. It was almost like an early version of rap through a Scouse patois. But that was then and this is now.
So, where is McGough today? Well, he's certainly earned the respect of his peers in his promotion as President of the Poetry Society, has a CBE, is an Honorary Fellow of Liverpool JMU and has a weekly slot on BBC Radio 4 [Poetry Please]. Not bad for a lad from Litherland. Must be all that sea air and the tannery, now long gone. Little wonder that he's been described as 'the patron saint of poetry' by Carol Ann Duffy.
Friday night’s As Far As I Know was a one-man show in advance of his new adaptation of Molière's The Misanthrope (15th Feb to 9th March at the Liverpool Playhouse].
It coincided with the title of his recently published book and he recited a fair chunk of verses on the night. Thirty-eight to be precise. This included a reworking of his 1960s poem Let Me Die a Young Man's Death which, given McGough's longevity, now conveys a sense of settled acceptance...
"My nights are rarely unruly. My days of all-night parties are over, well and truly. No mistresses no red sports cars, no shady deals no gangland bars, no drugs no fags no rock'n'roll. Time alone has taken its toll".
Indeed, this new body of work reflects his own personal journey and relies heavily on both home-grown sentimentality and meaningful self-reflective observations of the mundane. He’s clearly got this down to a fine art. His poem To Sentimentality says..."Nostalgia for those innocent times, of confident first lines and clear mornings. The smell of coffee, an empty page".
As an aside, during the recital, McGough referred to the poet’s craft as "a smile on the verge of tears" which, as far as I could tell from the audience reaction, was the most poignant moment of the night.
Apart from his writing skills, what is often overlooked is McGough's actual delivery. He has honed this quite well and can be heard in his Radio 4 programme. It's laconic in a soft, south Liverpool accent, which makes it easy to appreciate, and his enunciation is crisp.
Perhaps we don't tend to value the importance of delivery of prose poetry as much these days, but he managed to convey the sense that we were actually all sitting in his front parlour rather than in an auditorium.
OK, so he was playing to a home crowd so resonance, empathy and respect were obviously apparent, but there aren't that many local poets who have sell-out shows these days.
Let's face it, McGough doesn't have to prove himself any more: the days of self-doubt and self-justification are long gone. He can, instead, take a more confident, wider perspective over his life and its family-orientated origins.
Not for him to rage against the dying of the light. No, his purpose now is to embrace the fruits of his labours over the years and gift them back to his wider family of fellow-travellers.
This one-man show showed he's still more than capable of giving voice to his Muse and, moreover, that live recitals of prose poetry still matter amongst the cacophony of contemporary life.
McGough's skill relies not so much in overcoming these competing sensory distractions but, more distinctly, by creating a personal revelatory space for himself and his readers and listeners to share where "the chaos within gives rise to the dancing star". Or, as he neatly puts it, "You have a book in your hand. Take comfort from this".