101 Letters to a Prime Minister by Yann Martel Read Free Book Online Page B

for criticizing the French government; and in 1726 he was exiled from France for three years for insulting a member of the aristocracy. He is buried in the Pantheon in Paris.

BOOK 8:

SHORT AND SWEET:
101 VERY SHORT POEMS
EDITED BY SIMON ARMITAGE
July
23, 2007
    To Stephen Harper,
Prime Minister of Canada,
A book of concise loveliness,
From a Canadian writer,
With best wishes,
Yann Martel
    Dear Mr. Harper,
    You said a few years ago that your favourite book was the
Guinness Book of World Records
. Well, as a dedicated reader of those yearly volumes that means that at least on one occasion you read a poem. Simon Armitage, the editor of
Short and Sweet: 101 Very Short Poems
, the latest book I am sending you, says in his introduction that he became interested in very short poetry as a teenager when he read in the aforementioned
Guinness
book what was claimed to be the world’s shortest poem:
    Fleas
    Adam
    ’ad ’em
    A masterpiece, isn’t it? In a single rhyming couplet of four syllables something is suggested about the ancient and intimate relations between humans and animals, about the great antiquity of small, neglected beings, about the shabby reality of our existence, divine origins notwithstanding, and the corruption of this world, inherent even in the Garden of Eden. And there’s more: in that rhyme that sounds like “Adam, Adam,” is there not a lament? Or is it an accusation? Either way, it could be that the fleas in question are us.
    You can’t beat poetry for saying so much with so little.
    Busy? Tired? Feeling nothing? You’re missing on the depth of life that you know is out there but you don’t have time to read a big fat novel? Then try this poem, by George Mackay Brown:
    Taxman
    Seven scythes leaned at the wall.
    Beard upon golden beard
    The last barley load
    Swayed through the yard.
    The girls uncorked the ale.
    Fiddle and feet moved together.
    Then between stubble and heather
    A horseman rode.
    Notice the extraordinary concision with which a narrative structure is set up, with the emotional questions and possibilities left to ripple through the reader’s mind. The marvel of poetry is that it can be as short as a question yet as powerful as an answer. For example, the following poem, by Stephen Crane:
    In the Desert
    In the desert
    I saw a creature, naked, bestial
    Who, squatting upon de ground
    Held his heart in his hands
    And ate of it. I said, “Is it good, friend?”
    “It is bitter—bitter,” he answered:
    “But I like it
    Because it is bitter,
    And because it is my heart.”
    I envy that of poets, that ability to create something so small that nevertheless feels so complete, the vastness of existence made to fit into something no bigger than a coin purse. Look at this poem, by Hugo Williams:
    Lights Out
    We’re allowed to talk for ten minutes
    about what has happened during the day,
    then we have to go to sleep.
    It doesn’t matter what we dream about.
    Repetition suits poetry. Read one of these poems several times and you’ll see for yourself: it keeps getting better. In this case, familiarity breeds respect.
    A last one, lovely, by Wendy Cope:
    Flowers
    Some men never think of it.
    You did. You’d come along
    And say you’d nearly brought me flowers
    But something had gone wrong. The shop was closed. Or you had doubts—
    The sort that minds like ours
    Dream up instantly. You thought
    I might not want your flowers.
    It made me smile and hug you then.
    Now I can only smile.
    But, look, the flowers you nearly brought
    Have lasted all this while.
    Short though they are, I wouldn’t rush through any of these poems. Rush tends to disturb their echoing stillness. Best to read them aloud, getting the rhythm right, smoothing out the stumbles, slowly getting a sense of their sense.
    It’s a marvellous exercise in—in what?—in being human, I suppose.
    Yours truly,
    Yann Martel
    S IMON A RMITAGE (b. 1963) is a British poet, novelist and playwright known for his dry wit and accessible