Donald Davie's new book [Trying to Explain], a collection of reprinted pieces, is a jumpy one, as is indicated by its fretful title and the expression (faintly exasperated) on his face on the dust-jacket, as well as by a lecture on 'Art and Anger', and 'Second Thoughts' on the same subject, in which he defends anger (with its corollary, contempt) as a salutary emotion and one suitable to great art. Anger, as opposed to hatred, rancour and even indignation, is purgative and goes with clear thought—reasons, he says, why it is unwelcome in democracies where 'contempt is unforgivable, as ultimately hatred isn't'.
You could state all the themes of his book in terms of a question which he has plainly often asked himself: why, being English and predominantly concerned about English, or British, matters, does he live and work in America? Or rather, some answers to that are clear: it is because in England 'the nonacademic makers and moulders of literary opinion are judging poetry by standards which are 60 years out of date', and because of the 'arrogant rationalism and authoritarianism of British socialism'.
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