For nearly three hundred years Scotland and England were the Laurel
and Hardy of nations. For nearly two hundred years The Prelude was
a poem by Wordsworth. Something had to give. As Britain begins to
resemble a cut-up by William Burroughs, and the heritage of Robert
Burns is flushed down a lavvie in Leith, one verse-monger steps
forward to do battle with (or possibly for) cultural chaos. Bill
Herbert's Laurelude is in three sections: The Laurelude is a blank
verse myth about Ulverston's Idiot Boy, Stan Laurel. Othermoor
depicts a cubist version of the North where the Wild Boy himself,
the late Bill Burroughs, rewrites the rules. And The Madmen of
Elgin squashes both Lost Boys and Solitary Reapers into Middle
Scots verse forms for a pre-millennial song-and-dance. Like Oliver
Hardy this volume refuses to be slim: it bursts all borders,
literary and political, creating a zone where the Hollywood musical
meets the Jolly Beggars, where lament bumps into love lyric, where
the dictionaries go to die. Poetry Book Society Recommendation.
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