細節
YOUNG, Andrew. Collected Poems, London, Jonathan Cape, 1950, 8°, FIRST EDITION, SIGNED by Young on front blank, illustrations by Joan Hassall, contemporary dark green morocco, spine titled in gilt, gilt inner dentelles.
"I was walking one day with Andrew Young across the field behind his Sussex Vicarage. The country fell away before us into the valley and then climbed again to Robertsbridge. There was a barn to our left, a farm ahead and, beyond that, houses only on the distant ridge. I was finding the going hard -- for all that he is thirty years my senior, Andrew Young walks still with the speed and endurance of the Highlander. Conversation was checked by my breathlessness and my friend's concentration -- his eyes miss nothing in the grass or the hedges. Then he said suddenly, 'You know I shall never live in a town again.' 'Oh,' I said, weakly, 'why not?' 'It's too dull: Nothing ever happens there, but here -- here there's always something happening.' One of the characteristics of Andrew Young's poetry is the excitement of the man for whom there is always something happening in the quietest field. Few people have seen so many of the British wild flowers as he has done -- and he has travelled all over Britain to see them -- to see, not to pick or dissect or preserve them. Those travels have originated his poems in almost every part of the country. Another influence in his work is the exhaustive reading of the poets which has perfected his technique and made him so severe a self-critic that his [forthcoming] Collected Poems, by constant pruning and re-writing, is almost a distillation of his poetry" (John Arlott, "Andrew Young", in Now and Then, number 77, Autumn 1948, pp. 20-21).
"I was walking one day with Andrew Young across the field behind his Sussex Vicarage. The country fell away before us into the valley and then climbed again to Robertsbridge. There was a barn to our left, a farm ahead and, beyond that, houses only on the distant ridge. I was finding the going hard -- for all that he is thirty years my senior, Andrew Young walks still with the speed and endurance of the Highlander. Conversation was checked by my breathlessness and my friend's concentration -- his eyes miss nothing in the grass or the hedges. Then he said suddenly, 'You know I shall never live in a town again.' 'Oh,' I said, weakly, 'why not?' 'It's too dull: Nothing ever happens there, but here -- here there's always something happening.' One of the characteristics of Andrew Young's poetry is the excitement of the man for whom there is always something happening in the quietest field. Few people have seen so many of the British wild flowers as he has done -- and he has travelled all over Britain to see them -- to see, not to pick or dissect or preserve them. Those travels have originated his poems in almost every part of the country. Another influence in his work is the exhaustive reading of the poets which has perfected his technique and made him so severe a self-critic that his [forthcoming] Collected Poems, by constant pruning and re-writing, is almost a distillation of his poetry" (John Arlott, "Andrew Young", in Now and Then, number 77, Autumn 1948, pp. 20-21).