Henry Reed who was born in 1914 is famous mainly for his poem, ‘Naming of Parts’ which first captured my imagination when I was at school studying the poetry of Wilfred Owen. I loved the speech rhythm of the poem, it seemed refreshingly down to earth and accessible.
Reed was born in Birmingham and went to University there; the second world war started in 1939 and Reed joined the Royal Army Ordnance Corps in 1941 but in 1942 he was moved to Navel Intelligence. After the war he became a writer, broadcaster and journalist and died in 1986 at the age of seventy-two.
Here is a link to somewhere you can listen to Reed reading his own work:
http://www.solearabiantree.net/namingofparts/audio-visual.html
‘Naming of Parts’, was part one of a series of poems called ‘Lessons of the War’. The other parts are ‘Movement of Bodies’, ‘Unarmed Combat’, Psychological Warfare’ and this, the second poem in the series:
JUDGING DISTANCESNot only how far away, but the way that you say it
Is very important. Perhaps you may never get
The knack of judging a distance, but at least you know
How to report on a landscape: the central sector,
The right of the arc and that, which we had last Tuesday,
And at least you knowThat maps are of time, not place, so far as the army
Happens to be concerned—the reason being,
Is one which need not delay us. Again, you know
There are three kinds of tree, three only, the fir and the poplar,
And those which have bushy tops to; and lastly
That things only seem to be things.A barn is not called a barn, to put it more plainly,
Or a field in the distance, where sheep may be safely grazing.
You must never be over-sure. You must say, when reporting:
At five o’clock in the central sector is a dozen
Of what appear to be animals; whatever you do,
Don’t call the bleeders sheep.I am sure that’s quite clear; and suppose, for the sake of example,
The one at the end, asleep, endeavors to tell us
What he sees over there to the west, and how far away,
After first having come to attention. There to the west,
On the fields of summer the sun and the shadows bestow
Vestments of purple and gold.The still white dwellings are like a mirage in the heat,
And under the swaying elms a man and a woman
Lie gently together. Which is, perhaps, only to say
That there is a row of houses to the left of the arc,
And that under some poplars a pair of what appear to be humans
Appear to be loving.Well that, for an answer, is what we rightly call
Moderately satisfactory only, the reason being,
Is that two things have been omitted, and those are very important.
The human beings, now: in what direction are they,
And how far away, would you say? And do not forget
There may be dead ground in between.There may be dead ground in between; and I may not have got
The knack of judging a distance; I will only venture
A guess that perhaps between me and the apparent lovers,
(Who, incidentally, appear by now to have finished,)
At seven o’clock from the houses, is roughly a distance
Of about one year and a half.Henry Reed
Lois Elsden 