Radar: What I’m Reading, Watching, Listening To This Week - 18.08.25

Reading: 

Love Poet, Carpenter: Michael Longley at 70, ed. Robin Robertson, (Enitharmon, 2009)

I’ve finally got round to alphabetising my bookshelves. In all the time I’ve had bookshelves they’ve never been in order. So, it was with great satisfaction that I took a couple of days and finally sorted them out - time well spent, I like to think. It’s a really interesting process ordering your books. It makes you think about the books you own and have yet to read, and reminds you of the books you have read and how enjoyable they were. It did take me ages to finish this task though, not least because I kept stopping, opening the books and flicking through them to read bits and pieces. Among the books I enjoyed reacquainting myself with was this anthology of writing, a festschrift, entitled Love Poet, Carpenter: Michael Longley at Seventy. Since Michael Longley’s death earlier this year, I’ve found myself either going back to his writing, or having it come back to me. There’s a lovely poem by Nick Laird in this selection entitled ‘Peace’ which is well handled, and Ciaran Carson’s piece, ‘Longley’ is a fine tribute and exploration of what makes his style so memorable. It shouldn’t go without saying that the production value of this book is exquisite, in hardback, with corrugated end papers. I also happened upon a PBS Bulletin from 2014, where Michael Longley's Stairwell was the Choice. There was a passage written by the poet himself reflecting on the collection, and recommending the work of Hugo Williams, as well as Tim Kendall’s Poetry of the First World War. In it Longley writes of how he is ‘less concerned with formal matters’ and instead favours ‘a natural shapeliness in which meaning and melody coincide.’ Browsing the Bloodaxe Book of 20th Century Poetry earlier that day, I came across his wife, the critic Edna Longley quoting Derek Mahon’s maxim that poetry should have ‘Soul, Song and Formal Necessity.’ Such happy coincidences and serendipitous connections never fail to amaze me when randomly browsing books. It was a long day of sorting, but these phrases and Longley’s poem ‘Sibelius, 1956’ reprinted in the little PBS pamphlet were my reward, along with shelves where I can actually locate books. 

Watching:  

The Narrow Road to the Deep North, BBC iPlayer

I read Richard Flanagan’s Booker Prize winning novel many years ago, and I remember enjoying it. That’s about all I remembered about it really, apart from Australian soldiers being held as prisoners in the woods in Japan. This televised, serialisation of the novel really went to town on the violence, with episode 4 in particular featuring a beating of a soldier which seemed to go on for about 20 minutes. While I appreciate they were trying to convey the horror experienced by the prisoners of war, and while I enjoyed the flashbacks to his former love life, I felt like the ending was rushed. There was a lot more they could have explored at the end, particularly as Dorrigo, the protagonist, ages and dies, but the producers decided to end with him in a car crash. While I enjoyed watching it mainly, and appreciated the dramatisation of something with a bit more substance to it, I felt as if this served to remind me how difficult it can be to dramatise novels, and how maybe novels are better, well, being read rather than dramatised. 

The Naked Gun, ITVX

As  a bit of light relief after what was quite a heavy viewing of The Narrow Road, I revisited this absolute belter of a comedy. Every scene is packed with slapstick excellence. RIP Leslie Nielsen, and thank you for this timeless classic. 

Listening:

Sport’s Strangest Crimes - Hanse Cronje: Fall From Grace, BBC Sounds

I played a lot of cricket growing up, which often surprises people as they don’t really associate Northern Ireland with cricket - and I get that. But, a Protestant grammar school education in NI aligns itself with British sports such as cricket and rugby. Anyway, I heard a trailer for this podcast and was instantly gripped, as I remember the face of Cronje very vividly from my teenage years watching test matches when they were free-to-air on the BBC. I also vaguely remembered this stuff about him fixing matches and, as I’ve been on holiday, wanted a bit of a diversion from more literary matters. I can’t recommend this highly enough, it’s gripping from start to finish and Mark Butcher, the former England opening batsmen, is excellent in facilitating the narrative; he’s softly spoken and doesn’t get in the way of the story or the interviewees. I’ll definitely be going back to hear some more. 

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