Released on 01 January 2015.

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Other Passports

3.83 based on 6 ratings & 0 reviews on Goodreads.com

Synopsis

‘Clive James is a brilliant bunch of guys’ New Yorker

‘Clive James is a true poet. Line after line of his has a characteristic personal tone, a kind of end-stopped singingness which is almost independent of what it says . . . It is precisely because he harps so much on poetry as a public art with a responsibility to its readers of satisfying their expectations of form and meaning, that it is important to stress his latent loyalty to poetry as beautiful language’ Peter Porter, London Review of Books

‘I approached the book with dread and was quite overwhelmed by it. It seemed to me to be persuasive, moving, intelligent. It was a commentary on our times and on the world’ Fay Weldon

‘Brilliant, amusing and technically dazzling poetry . . . Few poets since Bryon have handled ottava rima with such dexterity and confidence. Part of fun we derive from reading James come from his delighted awareness of the risks he is running and the skill and cleverness with which he is coping with the challenge’ Weekend Australian

‘It would be pretty easy to underestimate these poems, neglecting their sustained technical accomplishment and their cornucopia of comic invention’ Melbourne Age

‘Great fun to dip into . . . His range of interests and leaning is formidable, and he demonstrates his mastery of demanding verse forms . . . Armchair readers who want to know more where things are at in the metropolitan scene (and in the great Cosmopolitan Elsewhere) will greatly enjoy being entertained by James’ Encounter

‘His Babu version of The Wasteland is in wonderfully bad taste . . . His opening piece, “The Book of My Enemy Has Been Remaindered”, is even funnier than the title promises . . . “Johnny Weissmuller Dead in Acapulco” is both comic and touching’ Sunday Telegraph

In the media

Great fun to dip into . . . His range of interests and leaning is formidable, and he demonstrates his mastery of demanding verse forms . . . Armchair readers who want to know more where things are at in the metropolitan scene (and in the great Cosmopolitan Elsewhere) will greatly enjoy being entertained by James
Encounter
Clive James is a true poet. Line after line of his has a characteristic personal tone, a kind of end-stopped singingness which is almost independent of what it says . . . It is precisely because he harps so much on poetry as a public art with a responsibility to its readers of satisfying their expectations of form and meaning, that it is important to stress his latent loyalty to poetry as beautiful language
London Review of Books
It would be pretty easy to underestimate these poems, neglecting their sustained technical accomplishment and their cornucopia of comic invention
Melbourne Age