Two letters to Horace
1.
Dear Quintus Horatius Flaccus,
may I have a poem?
We run this little magazine.
It would be a good advertisement
for your books.
Our circulation is improving
and I would be sure to place your poem
in a prominent position
suited to the importance of your work.
I attended your State Reading
in our city last week.
I tried to get a question in
during the question time,
but you were mobbed. In the pub
I was the one who fell over
your briefcase. I have always liked
your work. Perhaps an ode
or a short epistle
that you have lying about?
Our readership includes
men, women and slaves.
We are non-political.
You might like to bear in mind
we are looking at the schools market
so we cannot include poems
that go too far into grottoes,
nor anything poking fun
at your patron,
Augustus. He might stop our grant.
A few fish on elm trees
in a flood,
or advice on writing haiku –
something like that.
You may like to know also
Publius Vergilius Maro
has promised to send us something,
but he is busy with a long poem
so it may have to wait.
Thanks. Yours sincerely,
Secretary, New Hexameter,
formerly Hendecasyllables.
2.
Dear Quintus Horatius Flaccus,
Many thanks for sending us
Ode III, XIII.
I have always been fond of
the Fons Bandusiae.
Hopefully, it will appear
in the issue after next.
I enclose a subscription form.
Thanks again. Yours sincerely,
Editor, New Hexameter,
formerly Hendecasyllables.
About this poem
This poem was included in Best Scottish Poems 2008. Best Scottish Poems is an online publication, consisting of 20 poems chosen by a different editor each year, with comments by the editor and poets. It provides a personal overview of a year of Scottish poetry. The editors in 2008 were Rosemary Goring and Alan Taylor.
Editors’ comment:
Anyone who has tried to commission work from well-known writers, or who is in thrall to grant-giving bodies, will warm to this sardonic satire. One of its most appealing features is the tone of innocence and gaucheness, as a poetry magazine’s editor tries – unsuccessfully – not to grovel while asking Horace to write for her magazine, at the same time trying to entice him with the only promises at her disposal, namely space and prominence. There is a knowing bitterness on Evans’s part in the gentle reminder to the great man not to write anything that will offend those on whose largesse the magazine depends. (“You might like to bear in mind we are looking at the schools market.”) Parallels with the modern literary world amusingly abound.
Author’s note:
Horace lampoons conceited young poets in his epistles, as is well known. I imagine the literary community milling around the poets in Horace and Vergil’s day, and in particular a literary editor writing to wheedle a contribution from Horace. I am afraid the authenticity of this wheedling comes directly from my own experience, when such poets as Edwin Morgan and Les Murray have over the past ten years responded kindly to this sort of approach!
I enjoyed naming the imaginary magazine as New Hexameter, formerly Hendecasyllables, because those of course were major Greek and Latin meters. Note the sting in the tail when the pushy and insensitive editor (not myself I hope!) sends a subscription form without payment.
Horace is far from out of date. His Odes, including iii.xiii which makes its imagined first appearance here are among the most lasting poems in the Western world, and it can’t be a coincidence that two dear friends of mine, Angus Calder and Maureen Almond, have written recent books inspired by the same gentle satire, updated to present times, which is as near immortal as poetry ever gets.
