Abstract: The article cross-references the newly published excerpts of poet Anne Beresford’s (1928–2023) journal with her husband Michael Hamburger’s autobiography (1973, updated 1991), noting what each chose to highlight from the same meeting Robert Graves in Deià in the spring of 1952. While Beresford journal is more immediate, Hamburger is more reflective. Taken together, they both present interesting perspectives on their brief acquaintance with Robert Graves.

Keywords: Anne Beresford, Anne Beresford’s Journal, Michael Hamburger, Robert Graves

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British poet Anne Beresford (1928–2023) describes in these passages of her journal, previously unpublished, a trip she and her husband, the poet Michael Hamburger (1924–2007), made to Spain in the spring of 1952, where they met Robert Graves and his family. The excerpts are matter of fact and telegraphic in language. It is interesting to observe the differences between Beresford’s and Hamburger’s descriptions of the same events, which are accounted for in his A Mug’s Game: Intermittent Memoirs (1973), [1] and its revised edition Strings of Beginnings (1991).[2] Hamburger notes that they had been introduced to Graves in writing by Kathleen Raine (1908-2003), and Graves lent them a place to stay in Deià. At one of own his lectures, Hamburger had also met Graves biographer Martin Seymour-Smith, who was at that time living with Graves and his wife, Beryl.

One of the most notable aspects of Beresford’s journal is her modesty concerning her own literary interests. Despite being a poet in her own right (her debut collection of poems Walking Without Moving, would only appear a decade later),[3] here she stresses her ‘lack of knowledge’ and feels ‘out of [her] depth’ in literary discussion. Similarly, Hamburger finds himself ‘with nothing intelligent to say’ about Graves’s controversial The Nazarene Gospel Restored, which would be published the following year.[4] Hamburger also mentions that Martin Seymour-Smith’s wife, Jan, was helping Graves with classical research (p. 274) for both The Nazarene Gospel Restored and The Greek Myths (1955)[5] (p. 276).

Although Beresford mentions that Hamburger was wrestling with writer’s block, he manages to beat it once the summer has ended, writing about bullfights he witnessed in Spain. Beresford disapproves of his curiosity about them, but Hamburger justifies his interest as the human interest in tragedy. The experience inspired Hamburger’s poem ‘Palinode’ (1952):

And there a bullfight purged the heart

Of comforts fiction adds to art.

Applying Aristotle's law,

Pity and terror, in the raw:

This hero's flesh confirmed the plot.[6]

Here, Hamburger speaks of the bullfight as if it were tragedy exempt of sublimation. He had been attempting to write about the ‘Savage God’ of Yeats’[7], a lamentation about the reconfiguration of tragedy into satire, and one can see how the topic made its way into the poem. ‘After us, the savage God’ after all, had been written as a reaction to Alfred Jarry’s Ubu Roi (1895),[8] a visceral and harrowing comedy of the absurd inspired by Macbeth.

Perhaps the principles of Greek drama influenced Hamburger’s description of Graves as ‘wearing a mask’ (p. 275), though he was privileged to see it from up close. He notes that when Graves remarks he must always walk on the left side of people, Hamburger replies the left represents intuition and Graves adds it also stands for ‘destruction and cursing’. Hamburger describes Graves as having the potential for ruthlessness despite his kindness (p. 275) and observes that Graves’s subtle utterances often held a hidden meaning. He captures Graves’s elusiveness in his description:

He has something of the satyr about him, even in the set of his features, the curve of his mouth and the very striking blue eyes, which are wide, almost staring, without being dreamy or in any way expressive of feeling (p. 275).

Graves, on his part, was partial to satire and Hamburger notes his fascination with the satirical implications of Greek epic. Graves advised him that certain words should not be used in poems unless they were satirical, amont other avuncular suggestions

He also talked about what words are admissible in poetry & which are unpoetic, saying that certain modernisms are admissible only for the purpose of satire’ — an anti-modernist, classical standpoint which I couldn’t quite accept even at that time, when my work kept well within the bounds of convention (p. 278).

Hamburger took Graves seriously although occasionally found his directions counterproductive.

Later, on one of our walks to the beach at Deya, he made some general observations which may or may not have been directed at what he knew of my work. I remember his warning about the use of adjectives and present participles, also of sibilants. For a time I tried to write poems with no adjectives in them at all, before realizing that some adjectives are functional and essential (p. 275).

Although Beresford and Hamburger did not maintain a close relationship with Graves following their visit, they corresponded and met occasionally (p. 279). Hamburger reflects on the apparent impossibility of long-lasting friendships between poets, which seemed to him to depend on loyalty (p. 279). His loyalty, and apparently Beresford’s, had been claimed by W. B. Yeats long before meeting Graves, and Hamburger ‘nearly tripped’ (p. 277) once he heard Graves call Yeats a sham.

Despite giving advice, which may or may not have been veiled criticism, Graves certainly thought Hamburger had talent, cautioning him against an academic career so he could continue as a professional writer, (p. 276), a caution both Hamburger and Beresford disregarded. Hamburger thought the general reading public had declined in literacy since Graves had published his successful historical novels,[9] and a literary career would be financial imprudent; and Anne was concerned that becoming notable through someone else’s words may hinder one’s own words. She asked Graves if he had translated before acquiring a reputation.[10] Hamburger built a long and highly successful academic career, although he admits that Graves was right ‘in principle’ (p. 276).

In general, Hamburger’s published recollections have teleological advantages over Beresford’s journal. While she focuses on itinerary and detail such as meals and the people they have met, his comments are more general, suggesting also that he was more involved in the literary conversation and ‘gossip’ than she was. Beresford’s diary however offers honest, unedited impressions that legitimize and complement Hamburger’s narrative. They both are appalled by the failures of the Franco government to provide for its population (pp. 273, 279), but Beresford offers more pointed complaints about the domestic upkeep of establishments or public spaces, at times using vocabulary which would place their view of Spain as within the cultural realm of Southern Europe, rather than Western Europe. For instance, Beresford thinks ‘the pension La Fonda is pleasant but rather primitive. We have a large comfortable bed, but it creaks. The food is plain.’ Hamburger seems to similarly evoke a primitive and untamed landscape:

There was something sinister about the place nonetheless; and a sense of utter wilderness at La Foradada, where I swam from the rocks. I went swimming again that afternoon at the Cala at Deya. This time the sea was rough, the water dirty and full of drifting seaweed (Hamburger, p 278).

It’s possible that Hamburger, then twenty-eight years old, considered Graves’s ‘exile’ in Mallorca rendered his career advice somewhat obsolete. His 1952 poem ‘Philoctetes’, recalls the tragedy of the solitary archer abandoned in a remote Mediterranean island by his comrades (‘the seasons of my pain | Are not the mainland seasons’). ‘Philoctetes’ is clearly in dialogue with the bullfight in ‘Palinode’, as we see in the line ‘I am the beasts I feed on’. Was Graves, to Hamburger, a type of Philoctetes in Mallorca? It seems that, quite literally, Hamburger thought of the island as behind the times:

The boat to Barcelona was held up because a well-connected lady — the wife or mistress of some important official — arrived late. In fact the boat had already left the quayside when she did finally appear, and was turned back to pick her up.[11]

While Hamburger’s contemplations are markedly literary in character, Beresford’s remain grounded in the quotidian concerns such as how many eggs she has eaten and what the Graves’ children’ donkey is called (Isabella), She also writes down her first impression of Graves’ children: she seems to prefer ‘pretty’ and ‘tomboyish’ Lucia over ‘more spoilt’ (but ‘nice, too’) Juan. She talks to William about Africa, and is impressed by Karl’s child, who takes ‘a liking’ to her. Immediately after, Beresford notes that she is feeling ‘out of depth with so many intellectuals’, insinuating that the kids, too, could be seen as such.

Beresford’s notes, as matter-of-fact as they are, still have their own narrative appeal: when she remarks, with bittersweet regret, that the trip never quite matches her expectations, the reader cannot help but wish she will henceforth be given the opportunity to enjoy herself — which she does once her husband recuperates from his illness. Beresford seems to be the only one not to get sick in this narrative. Beresford is candid about her impressions of Graves’s frequent guests: of a man called Frampton, she says: ‘Strange man, trying to be intellectual but just fails’; and she is glad to see a group of Americans and Dutch leave, because she ‘took a dislike to them’.

Beresford’s and Hamburger’s notes demonstrate the couple formed many of the same impressions[12]. For instance, they considered the same conversations of importance — like the one about Yeats — and found the same events worth remarking upon — such as daily flute practice and being followed by three black piglets.

Beatriz Sealander is a master’s student of Classical Reception at the University of Sao Paulo. Her dissertation is about the ways Robert Graves adapted Roman historiography into his narrative of Claudius.

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