LitLetter 199: Other Men's Flowers
A timeless anthology of great poems
Field Marshal Earl Wavell (1885-1950) was an exemplary person: a dedicated soldier, a revered leader of troops in several wars (Boer, WW1, WW2), an erudite teacher, and an author of books. A Renaissance man, he loved poetry, used it he said to deal with the burdens of his military life. After WW2, he was appointed President of the Royal Society of Literature. He had a prodigious memory and during a lull in hostilities in WW2 he listed all the poems he knew by heart, wrote introductions to the sections he made for his list, and after the war published the list as an anthology titled Other Men’s Flowers. This may be the most successful anthology ever to be published.
Wavell seems, for all the honours awarded and ranks achieved by him, a very down to earth man, in touch with himself and with other people. Brave, intelligent, and thoughtful, his writing to accompany his selection of poems is delightful – succinct, moving, instructive.
The etymology of the word anthology is from the ancient Greek words anthos meaning flower, and -ology a collection. Thus, the original meaning of anthology was a garland of flowers! A bouquet, a nosegay, a posy. Hence the clever title of this anthology of Wavell’s. How charming to think that whenever I hold in my hands a book that is a collection of poems, it is akin to holding a bunch of red roses, say, or an armful of my wife’s beautiful hydrangeas from our backyard. These connections are treasures in our lives.
Earl Wavell honours the words of the title of his book in its frontispiece. They were originally written by Michel de Montaigne (1533-1592). Montaigne wrote:
‘I have gathered a posy of other men’s flowers
And nothing but the thread that binds them is my own’
Montaigne’s career is for another discussion. He is an interesting literary character for he made his name as a popularist of the essay as a literary genre. His work is known for its merging of casual anecdotes and intellectual insight. I could be a ‘Montaigneian’; I like the essay format, I am currently on LitLetter 199! There is more than simply writing a book to being an author. A creative spirit seeks to sow its seed everywhere and surely need not be constrained to produce only finished books?
Back to Earl Wavell and Other Men’s Flowers. If you are looking for a broad introduction to poetry, if you are a seasoned reader of poetry, if you write poetry regularly – whoever you are you will benefit from having this anthology within an easy reach. My copy is almost disintegrating; yet not the first page whereon is ascribed: ‘Ian Widdop June 1982’. Forty and one half years ago, and here I am dewy-eyed over the fondest of memories.
One final sword thrust. Wavell also wrote poetry. At the very end of Other Men’s Flowers, after Thomas Hardy’s Afterwards and William Cory’s Heraclitus, just as I am thinking ‘Enough! This is too sentimental, too magical!’, I turn the page and this lyrical sonnet forms on the next. Then I truly weep for things squandered and protected, for sacrifice, for courage beyond my ken. Then I am faced with the ultimate in bravery put to words. There are few parallels, the only ones I can think of are Shakespeare, Macauley. Abraham Lincoln.
This poem appears as Wavell’s statement of faith in making war, in going back into that hellish amphitheatre for a liberal cause.
This is why we fight, isn’t it? To stand up for, to defend, what we believe in. I have often thought liberal nations to be slow (too slow?) to engage in fighting, and yet I have come to respect the slow pace of engagement as a comforting factor. They know how awful the theatres of war can be and do not go lightly into those places. More populist nations are seemingly always on the verge of starting a war, declaring their rights and seeking to snatch territory along a disputed border, say. Regard the sheer bloody-minded opportunism of Vladimir Putin in the Ukraine. It is refreshing to watch the Ukrainians withstand attacks with a bold spirit which more than anything declares that they believe in their cause, in their right to national sovereignty. When liberal nations finally do engage, though, they can throw the kitchen sink at a conflict.
Here is Wavell’s sonnet:
Sonnet for the Madonna of the Cherries by AP Wavell
Dear Lady of the Cherries, cool, serene,
Untroubled by our folly, strife, and fears.
Clad in soft reds and blues and mantle green,
Your memory has been with me all these years.
Long years of battle, bitterness and waste,
Dry years of sun and dust and Eastern skies,
Hard years of ceaseless struggle, endless haste,
Fighting ‘gainst greed for power and hate and lies.
Your red-gold hair, your slowly smiling face
For pride in your dear son, your King of Kings,
Fruits of the kindly earth, and truth and grace,
Colour and light, and all warm lovely things
For all that loveliness, that warmth, that light
Blessed Madonna, I go back to fight.
Wavell enumerates two lists as to why liberal nations go to war. The first is in line 8:
‘…’gainst greed for power and hate and lies’
We are incrementally – and sadly – aware of how powerful a force is greed and hate and lies in geopolitical terms. At the American Cemetery in Normandy there is a small chapel with the following sentence inscribed on the entablature:
‘These endured all and gave all that justice among nations might prevail
And that mankind might enjoy freedom and inherit peace.’
These words make an indirect reference to the fruits of peace, freedom and justice.
But Field Marshal Earl Wavell’s words are unequivocal. The reason he goes to war – and by extension all free men, all volunteers – is to ensure the future existence and the future value of gentleness, gentleness as embodied in a fine painting, the gentleness of a mother caressing her small cild.
This is a remarkable characteristic of a poem written by such a war-like person. Wavell had gone straight to Sandhurst Military Academy from his school, Winchester College. He had never known anything except military culture, tactics, and manners. Yet he goes back to fight for the loveliness, warmth, and light embodied by the gentle gaze of the Madonna on her son playing with a bunch of cherries. Fruits of the kindly earth and truth and grace are high on this alternative list of reasons to fight. Also pride in our children, warmth of character, and love of beautiful things. These sentiments, uttered by a man with great credibility on the battleground, are even more profound, more moving, by the very fact of his credible experience of war listed in lines 5-7.
Wavell’s final Note in his anthology Other Men’s Flowers follows immediately upon this sonnet. He writes as follows:
‘At the end of my garden of other men’s flowers, outside the gate, I have put this little wayside dandelion of my own. It has no business here, even outside the garden, but the owner of the lady for whom it was written is anxious for it to be included. She is a beautiful lady, designed though not actually painted¨ by Leonardo da Vinci, and I have loved her ever since I saw her.
…but the Lady of the Cherries smiles not for soldier or Viceroy, only for her small son playing with the bunch of cherries. A blessing to you, my Lady, and to all beautiful things that help us forget the dreariness of war’.
[¨ Painted by Joos van Cleve, circa 1525-1530]