Memory Lane… Philip Larkin took my picture
In the early summer of 1956, I was planning to go to university. When my English teacher heard that I was considering Hull (my home city), she took me aside and said, ‘There’s a new librarian at Hull University, who writes poetry. He has just published a slim book of poems and his name is Philip Larkin.’
Having written several poems of my own, I decided to seek him out, send him a selection of my poetry and ask his advice about publication. He wrote back (I still have the letter), suggesting various publishers – as well as self-publishing – and inviting me to tea in the junior common room on Saturday of the following week. And so I cycled into town.
He was sitting by a table laid out with a tray and, as he rose, I discovered him to be a youngish, rather tall man with spectacles. He introduced himself.
‘I never comment on other people’s poetry,’ he said, and handed me back the package I had sent him. But he had read them. He filled my cup with tea and we settled down for a good chat. He had written a couple of novels at that point, worked in Belfast and had only been abroad once – to Germany. This struck me as strange at a period when foreign holidays were becoming very popular, and I put it down to the fact that he was a shy person lacking self-confidence.
Several months later, installed on my course, I sat in Larkin’s library. On occasions, he would leave his office and wander through the rooms where we students sat working. He never failed to stop by my table and pass the time of day. I asked him once how long it took him to write a poem: ‘Two or three months,’ was his response. I was astonished. ‘I write about one a week!’ I said.
One day, I was standing in the main building, studying a brass information board of lecture times. I noticed my reflection in the brass – as if I were looking into a mirror.
Unknown to me, Larkin, passing with his camera, had also noted this. Days later, he presented me with the photo he had taken. It’s a clever picture – one I shall always treasure – but how I wish I had asked him to sign it!
By Jill Simmons, who receives £50. Readers are invited to send in their own 400-word submissions about the past
More Memory Lanes on the Oldie App See page 6 for details