A good vintage

Late bloomer’s second collection draws on experience.

New Zealand-born and bred, Dunstan Ward has been a resident of France for more than 40 years. An academic, he came late to having his own poetry published. His first collection appeared when he was 74 and At This Distance, his second, comes four years later.

Ward favours orderly, paragraph-like stanzas. A certain number of his poems are dedicated to eminent New Zealand or French literary figures and his long residence in France means his diction can go a little macaronic. To add to his sins, he includes “Five Irreverent Rhymes”, kittenish skits on canonical poets, which sound like old varsity common-room wit.

So, can we write off his work as an old man’s pastime jottings? I hope not. There’s a surprising kick to Ward’s best verse. His poems of childhood memory show how deeply early experiences can affect us. The poem The Thing Not Done might be jingle-like in form, but is a wrenching expression of the persistence of childhood guilt. And Into the Woods shows how symbolic landscapes, constructed in childhood, can still influence us as adults.

If Une Fete celebrates somewhat simplistically the good life in Paris, then A Minute at Noon corrects the vision with its sombre response to the November 2015 terrorist attacks there. And, given Ward’s age, On Trust is a convincing expression of modern young love.

Maybe the poet is old, but his vision is still clear and cutting.

AT THIS DISTANCE, by Dunstan Ward (Cold Hub Press, $27.50)