I’ve been thinking about that poem by Larkin, the one that starts “they f*ck you up your mum and dad.”

Now, I have to confess, when I originally decided to write this post I was going to criticise Larkin for being a misery guts. This is based on the one poem that I have read by him, Toads. It’s a poem about how crappy going to work is (which I think is crap, going to work is great, if you hate it, then there’s something you can do about it, don’t just sit there and hate your life for goodness sake).

The best line out of that poem, by the way, is this:

  Their unspeakable wives
Are skinny as whippets — and yet
  No one actually starves.

He’s talking about quitting work and how “travellers” don’t do any work, but … “No one actually starves.” I like the words, ‘unspeakable’ and ‘skinny as whippets’. But no one actually starves. I guess it’s the rudeness I like. Can’t think of a way to end this messy paragraphy, apart from just saying, “lol”. Thank you, internets, for providing me with a way out.

Anyway, I then read some of his poetry and fell in love with it a little bit. But I do think he’s quite negative and unecessarily depressed. Be depressed, by all means, but don’t be depressed for no good reason. I’m all for being depressed if you can’t do anything about it, after all melancholy almost makes misery fun, but if you can do something about your awful life, then don’t waste any time in the doldrums.

But there.

Back to that poem. It occured to me that, yes, your mum and dad do mess you up — but then what relationship doesn’t? Seriously, that’s just people. We’re all idiots, really, and having good relationships is made up partly of the art of being resistant to getting messed up by other people’s character flaws. I guess.

There you go, Larkin. You’re a great poet, and I love your work, but it makes me sad that you were so sad.

Read Toads, An Arundel Tomb or Faith Healing.