If one’s RP and one knows it clap one’s hands.

Wednesday, August 5th, 2009

Listening to the poets performing their work on a site dedicated to concepts of place, I’m struck by the fine accents on display as well as by the fine words, the different poetic voices in both senses of the word. For example, there’s Byron and Emma’s accents which are separated only by a county line and a million miles. Then Charlie and Rukus pumping such different beats from the same heart of England. Poets in Resonance, indeed!

At one time that wouldn’t have happened, of course. Access to the airwaves was the sole preserve of people with cut glass accents, not broken glass accents like from my place. (Or yours?) Everyone at the BBC sounded like Brian Sewell and even the “lower orders” were portrayed by upper class actors, as lampooned here by Harry Enfield’s Mr Cholmondley-Warner.

In this country, of course, accents are irretrievably inter-woven with concepts of class with, in reality, dozens of gradations rather than the simple lower, middle, upper class system portrayed by these familiar faces.

Thinking about it though, concepts of class and inter-class cultural embarrassment form a huge part of UK TV comedy folklore – Keeping Up Appearances, Reggie Perrin, Rising Damp, Monty Python, Pete n Dud, Alan Bennett, The Office, Royle Family, and innumerable sketches all spring to mind. From America, of course, The Beverly Hillbillies is built on that entire premise. Much so-called reality tv thrives on lighting those social touch-papers then inviting us to stand back and watch – Wife Swap being a case in point, and whatever the latest one is called – “How Clean Is Your Big Brother”, is it?

Whilst the very word “prejudice” in itself means to pre-judge, research alleges that we all carry a mental pecking order of qualities which we subconsciously ascribe to a speaker based on their accent – qualities like trustworthiness, attractiveness and intelligence. Plus, of course, the converse which pins different judgements around levels of street-cred, toughness, criminality, lower intelligence or worse to those of us who speak with an industrial or rural accent.

Sometimes comedians find humour in subverting those prejudices, as in this Monty Python sketch where the Tyke-toned dad is a luvvie playwright and his be-suited and well-spoken son is a coal miner.

But it’s much more common for advertisers and film-makers to use accents as subliminal short-hand for what they want us to think of a character, or as a short-cut to how they want us to feel about a product – homely, urban, classy, whatever.

So I find it interesting that – in the Heineken advert that I started this blog series with – the advertisers gave William Wordsworth a posh/RP/southern accent when, of course, he was from Cumbria with an accent to match. An accent which, presumably, he was proud to retain despite accusations of being “unintelligible” at Cambridge and which is intrinsic to his work – some of his rhymes like water/matter and note/naught only work with a reet northern accent. But a quick internet search finds loads of audio and video clips of people like Jeremy Irons (a caste of thousands?) intoning Wordsworth in posher-than-thou tones and Ye Frightfully Serious Poetry Voice. Leeds-born poet Tony Harrison rages about this sort of thing in his poem Them and Uz.

Now either, as is likely, the advertisers didn’t know of Our Willie’s dulcet tones, or they chose to gloss over the issue and not cause the accent to jar with the viewers preconceptions, prejudices in fact, thereby detracting momentarily from the message that their fizz-watter is the answer to all your problems.

Similarly, I was in London recently and spotted Wordsworth’s poem “Upon Westminster Bridge” as part of the Poems on the Underground series. Here it is on’t'internet again read by another posh bloke. But isn’t there a layer of meaning lost from the poem when it isn’t read by an out-of towner?

So, accents and speaking voices – some questions please. I’d be grateful for your thoughts on:

What other poets of yore are known to have had strong accents?

Can you post some audio or video links to current/recent poets whose speaking voice or accent you consider to be intrinsic to their work?

Whose dulcet tones do you admire and would wish for yourself?

How do you feel about your own speaking voice and accent? Does it influence your work? Have you written some pieces for a specific accent? Have you heard someone else reading your work aloud and how did you feel about that?

‘Ow d’ yer feel abaht it when t’writers or th’editors feel t’need to trah ‘n gerraccents across on t’page wi’ strange fookin’ spellin’s?

Are you proud of your accent or wish that you could change it? Are you conscious of it when reading out-of-town or at the widely different gigs that poets find ourselves at? Does the saloon voice work in the salon? And voice versa?

Is an accent a boon , a curse or an irrelevance in the world of spoken word? And is your answer the same for circles more concerned with the printed word?

Say what?

I’ll leave you with Linton Kwesi Johnson reading “If I Was A Tap Natch Poet” on American TV. (Genius moment at 3.12-ish.)

But why have I seldom seen LKJ on UK television?

Why is it so hard to make a living, even as a “Tap Natch” poet?

And who decides what a word’s worth?

Innit.

tagged under: accent.class.voice

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ABOUT THIS AUTHOR

Tony Walsh

Hi I'm a poet based in Manchester, profiled at the links below. I've performed all around the Uk, in Ireland and in Warsaw at the Palace of Science and Culture for The British Council. Everywhere from Glastonbury Festival to the British Library via pubs, clubs, prisons, schools, universities, festivals and once, just once, under a gazebo on a building site. http://www.myspace.com/tonywalshpoet http://www.applesandsnakes.org/artists.php?contact_ref=37408 http://www.writeoutloud.net/poets/tonywalsh

21 Comments

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Tony Walsh
August 6th, 2009

Aaaargh – still having techie problems! Comments were disabled for a while, now all me videos have disappeared! On my screen anyway. Normal service will be resumed asap, folks. We’ll be right back after these swear words.

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Sophie
August 6th, 2009

Proper interesting blog, that tony

I come from Bolton originally and have to concede..I hate..hate my accent. And try to quash it as much as possible in performances. Someone once asked me if I was from America..so perhaps I have succeeded…in the most minor way possible. I really don’t think th’ broad bolton accent reflects th’poetreh that I wraaite, like. Unless of course you are the late Bolton-poet Mr Hovis Presley, who I think suited his accent very much and his humble slightly deadpan poems..it just works. The only other strong accented poet I can think of currently has to be simon armitages strong mancunian spiel. And he sounds bloody brilliant.

Really intriguing stuff on ol’ mr wordsworth too – I didnt’ know he wasnt that posh after all – and who can blame me for being naive after the medias blatant stereotyping ! xxx

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Tony Walsh Reply:
August 11th, 2009 at 11:34 pm
Hi Sophie

Thanks for commenting. I think I agree with Joe and Melissa’s comments – you should “let your accent ring.”

Your right about Hovis Presley, a genius and sadly missed – could and should have been massive. I was lucky enough to perform with him a few times and he was always around when Write Out Loud was just 4 or 5 of us in the corner of a Bolton pub. I’m planning to post a few more youtube links in answer to my own blog questions and will be sure to include Hovis.

Simon Armitage lectures at MMU but is originally from, and I think still lives, in a village outside Huddersfield. I’ve just read his book – “Gig” which intertwines rock gigs that he’s been to with poetry gigs he’s had. I enjoyed it, not least because we seem to have very similar record collections!

Cheers

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Fran Isherwood
August 6th, 2009

Interesting stuff, Tony. I’m originally from North Manchester but have lived in London for twenty-odd years. I had drama training so I can do that RP stuff when required (I do still have my accent in real life) but I’m finding that the more confident I get with performing my poetry (and this also happened previously when was doing stand-up) the more northern I get on stage. I’m not writing deliberately northern stuff (although there are some autobigraphical/ observational / character pieces that call for a northern voice). However , when I read my more serious pieces my accent lessens( not deliberately). Either this is because I feel more comfortable with humour & the real me sneaks out or it’s a subconscious snobbery/sensibility that due to education & media conditioning thinks that you have to be posh to be a real poet…..I prefer to think that I’m keeping my voice in practice for any acting work !
But I do love the variety of accents you hear performing poetry nowadays.

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Joe Hakim
August 6th, 2009

I think it’s safe to say that I have a strong accent. The Hull accent is known for being a bit of an oddity, and is notoriously difficult to imitate correctly. A lot of actors struggle to nail it. There used to be a rumour that creators of voice recognition software visited here to test their programs.

My accent is a massive part of my work. It informs everything from the writing to the performance, and Hull as a place features strongly as subject matter. Just writing about what I know and all that…

Hull has a reputation for being a shit hole, and recent election results have done nothing to enhance our reputation within the media, so I think there may be a temptation to prejudge people with strong Hull accents to be nothing more than fodder for the Jeremy Kyle show. But Hull has a massive poetry heritage – we have a big connection with American West Coast poets such as Fred Voss and Dan Fante, and apparently this bloke called Larkin lived here once…

When I first began travelling to London to perform, I never once considered the notion of changing my accent so it was more understandable, although I may have slowed down my performances a little.

As far as I concerned, my accent is one of the things that makes me unique, both in my writing and my performance. Otherwise, we’d all sound the same, and that would be boring, wouldn’t it?

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Tony Walsh Reply:
August 11th, 2009 at 11:57 pm
Well said Joe.

Checkout Joe via http://www.myspace.com/joehakimrecordings and links to the Hull scene from there – Mike Watts, ThisisUll, Write to Speak, etc.

Thanks for the gig the other week, mate, It was a thrill to perform at Hull Truck Theatre.
Best of luck with kick starting stuff up there. Keep me posted.

Cheers.

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Melissa Blackman
August 6th, 2009

I’m visiting from Australia and I’ve found myself in the weird position of having an accent for the first time in my life. I suppose it was always there but never like it is here.

I love that there are so many different accents here in England but how have they all survived? Will they continue to survive? in 100 years will there be a Hull accent?

Personally I melt when I hear a northern accent reading poetry – I don’t care if the content is relevant to the north or not.

Poets let your accents ring!

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Tony Walsh Reply:
August 12th, 2009 at 12:00 am
Hi Melissa

Thanks for posting. The Hull accent is so strong and distinctive, as Joe says, it’ll take more than 100 years to shift it!

Enjoy your trip!

Tony

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Byron vincent
August 13th, 2009

Top blog Tony. I hadn’t seen that Python Sketch in years, it had me in stitches.
I think accent can be hugely important when it comes to spoken word performance. Performance poetry is often a heavily influenced by an artist’s personality and personal history. I often reference my own upbringing and use idiosyncratically northern colloquialisms as a means of contextualizing what I’m saying.
There can be confusion when there appears to be a disparity between peoples perceptions around a certain performer’s accent and the content of their work, but this itself can be used to challenge preconceptions. For those of us who work predominantly vocally accent can be used as just another theatrical tool, but when an accent has a genuine and inherent link to the poet and their work the effect often moves me in a more fundamental way.
I was introduced to poetry by my Gran who wrote Lancashire dialect verse. For me its all the more powerful because its representative of who she is. This Poem ‘Epitaph to a miner’ was written about her farther shortly after his death. It contains less Lancy twang than most of her stuff, but its one of my favourites because the subject matter is part of the fabric of my family history.

EPITAPH TO A MINER

Me dad were a miner in ‘26
The year that I was born
Everyone on strike and folk in a fix
In clothes all mended and worn.
All they asked were a living wage
As was their due I guess
This put mine owners in a rage
And they ended up getting less.

Me dad were a miner in ‘38
Three days a week at most
Managing to keep fire in t’grate
Eating mostly rice pudding and toast.
He pedalled five miles to get t’pit
On a bike that wasn’t to sound
And before he could start to do his shift
Crawled another two miles underground.

Me dad were a miner in’42
Amidst the second world war
They said “king and country needs you”
And there were overtime galore.
Being exempt from t’ slaughter
He fought the dirt and the dross
Working up to his knees in water
For a pound a week – gross.

Me Dad were a miner in ‘51
With not so much longer to hack
When a fall o’ coal nearly labelled him ‘gone’
And he ended up on his back.
But in those days they made ‘em tough
And soon when he was fit
Instead of saying “I’ve had enough”
He went back to work at pit.

And when dad retired in ‘58
After fifty years down t’pit
He was given no medal or golden handshake
A letter of appreciation that was it.
Mr. Hesketh manager at the time wrote :-
“In appreciation of valuable service you gave
At Moseley, Common and Chanters”, I quote.
Should read fifty one years a slave.

And when my dad died in ‘75
I could only wish him this
A much better ‘life’ than when he was alive
More happiness and bliss
More time in the sun, to smell the fresh air
And one resolution made sure and sound.
With thoughts of his spirit flying out on a prayer
He was not laid to rest – underground.

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Tony Walsh Reply:
September 5th, 2009 at 9:36 pm
Ah – so that’s where all the talent comes from, mate – you’re mining a rich family seam.

Both sides of my wife’s family were miners for generations. My father-in-law, Stan passed away a couple of years ago. The very night before he died I performed a new poem called “Another Name For Coal” at a community film premiere for 600 teenagers and their families from a run-down former coalfield in Leigh.
http://www.salfordfilmfestival.org.uk/news/thetallypressrelease

The film was commissioned to help put the kids back in touch with their lost mining heritage. The piece contained lots of things that Stan had told me and I’d have loved him to have heard it but, in the end, I was just pleased to have been able to dedicate it to him on the night.

He was an intelligent bloke, Stan. Given different circumstances maybe he’d have gone to University. The last line of the poem is a reference to both the the photosynthesis that locked the energy into the crushed marine life that became the coal and to the hardships and sacrifices of a life spent underground.

“They have another name for coal
They have another name for coal
They have another name for coal

They call it buried sunshine”

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Pete
August 14th, 2009

One from my youth

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a3jXMsfLxhI&feature=related

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Tony Walsh Reply:
September 5th, 2009 at 10:40 pm
Cheers for that, Pete. At Glastonbury in 2005 Annie McGann referenced a comedy piece of mine to Stanley Holloway and I had to look him up. But I now realise his place in a rich vein of Northern-voiced comics, wordsmiths and performers which runs from the music halls through people like Les Dawson and Mike Harding to today’s artists like Johnny Vegas and Peter Kaye.

Both Messrs Kaye and Vegas feature in this video tribute to the late, great Bolton poet and comedian Hovis Presley who sadly passed away in 2005 in his early 40’s.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BaC98IkHKPo

They were both at his funeral along with dj Mark Radcliffe and a Who’s Who of the northern scene where Hovis, aka Richard McFarlane, was much loved and remains something of a legend. A good idea of why comes from this fitting tribute in The Independent
http://hovispresley.co.uk/indepen.htm

If, dear reader, you don’t know of Hovis then I’d strongly recommend that you spend a happy half hour listening to his rich Bolton tones and words of genius on sites including:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AQed0WbGkNc&feature=related

http://www.myspace.com/hovispresley

http://hovispresley.co.uk/

I was lucky enough to perform with Hovis a few times and he was there when http://www.writeoutloud.net//public/index.php was just 5 or 6 of us sat around a pub table. Memorable gigs included when a one-man band was – bang – dismantling his -crash – kit on – parp – stage during my – honk – set and another when poetry terrorists Thick Richard covered the stage in Kellogg’s Frosties – “They’re Grrrrrreat!”. That would have been ok but they were the opening act!

These days his friend and mine, WOL co-founder, Dave Morgan has crafted material from Hovis’s truly hilarious “Poetic Off Licence” collection into a show entitled “Hovis In Wonderland” which featured at Latitude Festival a year or two ago. Meanwhile, performance poet and satirist Elvis McGonagall won a “Dead Poets Slam” a couple of years ago with Hovis material – eclipsing poetic cover versions of people like Auden and Shelley.

But tragically, to paraphrase Hovis himself – “As good things go, he went.” Too soon, mate, too soon.

RIP Richard Henry McFarlane
(Hovis Presley)
Poet, Comedian
3rd August 1960 – 9th June 2005

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Clare Kirwan
September 2nd, 2009

A lorra lorra interesting points there, Tony.

My mum and dad are both Liverpudlians but having grown up across the water (Wirral not New York!) I never had a strong accent. But working on a national phone line and then living abroad I found myself deliberately speaking more clearly and not using colloquialisms in the interests of communication.

I recently did half a dozen gigs in Australia and New Zealand and they kept introducing me as a ‘Liverpool Poet’ (my fault – that’s kind of how I blagged it!) and I felt emabrrassed not to have a stronger accent.

I’m proud of where I’m from and I think we’re all influenced by our geographical and cultural roots, but I’m sad not to have much of an accent now. I can fake it but it seems a bit…well…fake to do that. Should I reclaim my inner ‘Cilla’ or accept my inadvertant globalisation?

Answers on a cyber postcard, ta!

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Tony Walsh Reply:
September 5th, 2009 at 11:26 pm
Thanks for posting, Clare and it’s great to have you back in Blighty. I looked at your travel blog – Jeez, that’s quite a trip mate!

Thanks also for the prompt into this little scouse accented poetic featurette – featuring two poets who I was lucky enough to see on my first ever open mic night here in Manchester where both remain stalwarts and treasures of our thriving scene. (Clare, you’ll know them both well.)

First up is the phenomenal Gerry Potter, the artist formerly known as Chloe Poems, with his poem about accent called, appropriately enough, “My Scouse Voice.”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Grko5JUBoQ4 Gerry is a stunning performer and wordsmith in any accent and has loads of material online to marvel at – be sure to check it out.

And secondly, is the wonderful Jackie Hagan who, despite sounding very Scouse, is actually from the newtown overspill estate of Skelmersdale as she explains in this piece “Skem” which has been known to bring a tear to my eye. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5eAeS6OskDc Jackie has a a unique view of the world, a beautiful turn of phrase and a natural on-stage charm which never fails to win over an audience.

Both poets have new collections out with Manchester’s Flapjack Press (publishers of The – late, lamented – Ugly Tree poetry mag and you should buy both books and programme both poets without delay.

http://www.myspace.com/jackiehagan
http://www.myspace.com/gerrypotterpoet
http://www.flapjackpress.co.uk/

A couple of years ago I wrote my own piece about Liverpool for a project called Liverpool 800 – a (successful) attempt to archive 800 poems about the place to mark the 800th centenary of the city’s royal charter. As a Mancunian sitting down to write about Liverpool, I was taken by how many cultural reference points there are to the place – how many resonances, how much baggage, such history and, yes, so many stereotypes. I wanted to deal with these without compounding them and, ultimately, to celbrate the fighting spirit of the place. Manchester and Liverpool have much more in common than it usually suits these warring neighbours to admit.

I was then pleased when my piece was included in a cool-sounding and cool-looking anthology at the tail end of Liverpool’s 2008 Capital of Culture year.
http://www.artinliverpool.com/blog/2008/12/stories-from-the-city-pick-up-a-copy/

My pleasure waned somewhat when the anthology turned up with my piece handwritten in an arty but largely illegible font and with a crucial (aren’t they all?) four lines missing. Still, I do like this quote from journalist Paul Du Noyer in reviewing the collection: “A great book and a celebration of Liverpool’s greatest natural asset, namely language. This city loves words – we cherish them like connoisseurs and spend them like drunken sailors.”

My piece, formatted into four quarters if I could figure out how to do it, goes something like this:

SKIES FULL OF DIAMONDS AND STREETS PAVED WITH BOLD
(A Poem For Liverpool)

It’s not her standing together
or her walking alone

It’s not the blues of her reds
or the beat of her blues

It’s not her echoes of caverns
or the knots in her ash

It’s not the shout of her twisters
or this port in a storm

It’s not her skies full of diamonds
or her streets paved with bold

It’s not the lives of her birds
or the deaths of her sons

It’s not the flights of her pickets
or her right to be left

It’s not the crush of her people
or her people uncrushed

It’s not the chase of her steeples
or her hedging of bets

It’s not the goals of her strikers
or the holes in her nets

It’s not the mouth of the Mersey
or her permanent waves

It’s not the look of her Irish
or the luck of her slaves

It’s the leaving of Liverpool
thinking of this.

It’s her welcome, her handshake
her V-sign, her kiss.

It’s her climb for the prize
after falling from grace.

It’s the tears in her eyes
and the smile on her face.

© Tony Walsh 2007

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Tony Walsh
September 7th, 2009

Ok, going back to one of the questions which I posed at the start of this thread:

“Can you post some audio or video links to current/recent poets whose speaking voice or accent you consider to be intrinsic to their work?”

It’s only fitting to start that off with the legend that is John Cooper Clarke, whose Salford tones have remained untainted despite his years out of town.

Two clips that perhaps many people won’t have seen before would be:

This interview from Tony Wilson’s seminal So It Goes programme from 77-ish when John was still working in the toolshop at Salford Uni.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4nOr25n2TVw

And this, one of two adverts which, bizzarely the great man was asked to do for the Sugar Puffs breakfast cereal in the 80’s prompting more than one wag at gigs to shout “Tell about the money, Johnny!”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g2dd6ogISPg&feature=related

I’ve seen JCC perform loads of times since about 79 and been lucky enough to meet him a few times now. He’s a gentleman of the old school, always friendly, dapper and fragrant in even the muddiest of fields and an inspiration to now two generations of wordsmiths. It’s great to see him enjoying something of a rennaisance as discussed here in this week’s Guardian, and long may it continue.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2009/sep/05/john-cooper-clarke-interview .

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Jo Bell
September 8th, 2009

My accent is sort of ‘generic Northern’ – Sheffield via Newcastle upon Tyne, and back to the Peaks latterly. In purely technical terms my poems don’t work so well when spoken by someone else – for instance a Londoner would say ‘parth’ for my short-vowelled ‘path’. So I love the new opportunities for our own voices to be heard via podcast, website etc. The wonderful Poetry Archive http://www.poetryarchive.org is a great source of original recordings, sometimes disillusioning (turns out Yeats read like Kenneth Williams on acid). Performance poetry doesn’t really live on the page, so it needs to be available to hear in the original voice.

But if you are publishing poetry in magazines, pamphlets, books then it needs to stand up on its own two legs – entirely separate from your own accent and background. This isn’t a bad thing – after all, not all poets read well. We all know poets whose work actually seems diminished when you hear them reading it, and who are better confined to the page.

But on the side of the angels are Galway Kinnell, Martin Espada (both American), Benjamin Zephaniah and Yorkshire’s own Ian McMillan for the right poetry in the right voice.

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Tony Walsh Reply:
September 10th, 2009 at 10:13 pm
Hi Jo

Nice to see a mention of Martin Espada, a wonderful poet as we discussed at Big Chill. A New Yorker of Puerto-Rican descent, Pulitzer Prize finalist, Neruda scholar and political activist.

Folks – check him out at:

http://www.martinespada.net/

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0G0RpIfTeRM&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nsUygq2hDOY

I saw him read in Manchester a year or so ago – a stunning show (if under-attended) that made a lie of the page/stage split with the best page poetry and an evocative reader. Stunning poet, stunning voice, nice guy.

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Lucy Lepchani
September 10th, 2009

A fascinating subject, Tony. My accent is a hybrid of East Kent, largely Thanet (whereSsouth London vowels laze to almost New Zealand pronunciations) and ‘proper’, as my parents named it and insisted on. My father was an Indian immigrant and so ‘proper’ always had a repressed Darjeeling lilt, and my mother’s Sidcup consonants did not escape her mouth as much as she thought. However, dropping aitches or calling them haitches was forbidden, and other pronunciated misdemeanours, slaps being a frequent reminder of how we should talk. So taking on the vernacular was part of my teenage rebellion, and was also the point I managed to drop a lisp that I hated.
Over the years I have maintained a half-breed twang of Thanet and ‘proper’. Here in Devon where their voices are as clotted as the cream, locals have said I sound posh but some of my BBC sounding friends have presumed Essex. (pah!) How surprised I was to find some of them have cultivated their Northern accents out intentionally! Particularly Birmingham. No, you fools!

I have a poem I wrote a few months back about my experiences with accent – after discussing the differences with my 11 year old about her Devon accent and slang, and how we both like it; and after arguing with my OU tutor about literary voice.

Finding my voice:

My posh friends round my Thanet vowels by soft osmosis.
Never noticed til my old friend Claire came visiting
and brayed her news until we both
hee-hawed through wine-stained midnight.
Never dropped my aitches, ever.
Somehow lost those fishwife tones, though.
Glad to find them wearing, still,
the sea-salt flavours of my home:
street-cred solid consonants,
half-swallowed, softened glottals,
and my own bare lisping, cockle-shell-shaped, subtle.
Took my accent back since Friday.
East Kent still both fits and suits –
a subtle difference that, perhaps,
some good folk can’t quite fathom,
their Harrod’s undies voices
out of tone now with my own:
reclaimed, reborn, bare-arsed and
triumphant.

* * *
Strangely, when I’m stoned I’m as Thanet as you can get! The ‘proper’ just vanishes! Conversely, explaining word meanings to my Polish daughter in law, or friends in Greece, I go all BBC. They can understand me, though, better than local accents.

I have fallen in love with people’s accents in the past – Irish, both Northern and Southern; Newcastle, Manchester, Yorkshire, Lancashire. Prejudice it may be, but it does make men, in particular, more attractive. I could go off at a passionate tangent here but better not…

Poets whose accents suit: Abby Oliveira and Pamela Brown from the Poetry Chicks; yourself; Dennis Just Dennis, Byron V, Benjamin Z, John Cooper Clarke; when I think about it, I can’t think of anyone whose accents don’t suit EXCEPT that ‘orrible academic bumptious posh like wot they ‘ave on telly, like, on Wordsworth and Keats and whoever else allegedly went to RADA whilst starving in the garret. Richard Burton does Under Milk Wood in his native accent better than drama school poker-up-bum voice, which proves every point I want to make on the subject.

p.s. Elvis Magonagall just wouldn’t be the same in Richard’s natural accent, would he? But would the poems come accross as good?

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Tony Walsh Reply:
September 10th, 2009 at 10:26 pm
You have a lovely speaking/reading/performing voice, Lucy. (Listen in folks at http://www.myspace.com/lucylepchanipoems)
I’d love to hear you read your poem with your original Thanet vowels.

Actually, that’s just reminded me of my friend Julian Jordan, co-founder of Write Out Loud, who has a great comedy poem called “The Way She Rolls Her R’s” (A pun on “arse”) about the French accent. I must see if he will post it here – ideally as audio. http://www.writeoutloud.net/poets/julianjordon

Your latter points – absolutely! Have you seen my first blog thread with the Wordsworth Heineken advert?

Tony x

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Pete
February 12th, 2010

Sorry Tony, don’t have time to read through all this again, but just wanted to say, since you’ve raised the issue on FB, I have seen a young female poet here in Southampton who has a very ‘proper’ English voice. Cut glass and perfect received pronunciation – almost affected. The audience hide sniggers behind their hands when she reads/performs and take the mickey out of earshot. They don’t listen to her poems, they can’t get past her voice.
It feels like inverted snobbery to me.

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Segun
February 12th, 2010

I don’t reckon LKJ finds it difficult to make a living. You should see his gig fees!

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