Diary – 13 July 2017

It has been an unqualified delight, even if it is mildly absurd: I have been chairing the judges for this year’s Forward Prizes for poetry, wallowing in some quite extraordinary writing. It has been like gorging on champagne truffles every day. We are nearly there. Winners are emerging. But the absurd aspect is that everybody being judged is already a fine poet, with much to say and fine technical skill; so, winnowing down to ‘winners’ relies on personal prejudice and chance mood on one particular day. That’s horribly unfair and I think all the judges feel it. So why have such a prize? Because the hullabaloo and coverage will draw people to buy poetry books, just as all those beach ‘summer reading’ lists, however predictable, send people back into bookshops. Poetry was the great British art, and still is. So if you are buying for the sun lounger, please, please include some new poetry: look at our shortlists, or ask the bookstore for advice.