“STEVIE SMITH”

[FLORENCE MARGARET SMITH]

English poet and novelist Stevie Smith was one of the absolute originals of
English literature, exhibiting an original personality that combined a lively wit with
penetrating honesty and an absence of sentiment. In reviewing Smith’s Not Waving
but Drowning as “the best collection of new poems to appear in 1957,” fellow poet
David Wright called her “one of the most original women poets now writing.” She
led an outwardly uneventful life behind the respectable curtains of suburbia while
nurturing a highly individual imagination. Smith’s work
fits into no neat category and shows none of the
characteristic influences of her age, even though, as
Linda Rahm Hallett noted in the Dictionary of Literary
Biography, Smith’s voice “is nevertheless very much
that of what she once called the ‘age of unrest’ through
which she lived.” Sometimes she is reminiscent of
Blake, sometimes Ogden Nash, still other times Edward
Lear, but her talent clearly exceeded the latter two and
her voice is always her own; she read few contemporary
poets in an attempt to keep it original and pure. Her
seemingly light verse contains a sometimes Stevie Smith 1966
disconcerting mixture of wit and seriousness, making her
“at once one of the most consistent and most elusive of poets.” Her language is
sometimes simple and matter-of-fact (even in the same poem with more deliberately
“poetic” language) and sometimes deliberately archaic (where it is often suggestive
of old ballads). Her verse movement ranges from free conversational rhythms to
traditional verse patterns, occasionally becoming—deliberately, with ironic
effect—almost doggerel. Whatever her language, her writing commonly demonstrates
a fascination with death, exploring what Hallett described as “the mysterious, rather
sinister reality which lurks behind appealing or innocent appearances.” Apart from
death, common subjects in her writing include loneliness, myth and legend, absurd
vignettes (usually drawn from middle-class British life), war, human cruelty, and
religion.
Stevie Smith, born Florence Margaret Smith in Kingston-upon-Hull,
Yorkshire, was the second daughter of Ethel and Charles Smith. Called “Peggy”
within her family, she acquired the name “Stevie” as a young woman when she was
riding in the park with a friend who said that, because of her small stature, she
reminded him of the famous jockey Steve Donaghue (1884–1945, winner of the 1925
Epsom Derby, riding Manna). Her father was a shipping agent, a business that he had
inherited from his father. But as the company and his marriage began to deteriorate,
he join the North Sea Patrol when Smith was very young, and she saw very little of
 Snodgrass, Smith Introduction 2

him after that, except for occasional 24-hour shore leaves. At age 3 she went with her
mother and sister to live with an aunt in Palmer’s Green, an unfashionable and out-
of-the-way suburb in North London where Smith would live until her death in 1971.
When Smith was 5, she developed tubercular peritonitis—then
incurable—which plagued her throughout her childhood and continually interrupted
her education. She was sent to Yarrow Convalescent Home, a sanatorium near
Broadstairs, Kent, and spent months at a time there off and on for 3 years. She
developed her preoccupation with death when she was 7, at a time when she was very
distressed at being sent away from her mother. Despite this, she was generally a
happy child, with a penchant for amateur theatrics—the internationally famous
actress Dame Flora Robson was a childhood companion. Later, when her mother
became ill and died when Smith was 16, her spinster aunt Madge Spear, an inspiring
figure whom Smith dubbed “The Lion,” came to live with them, raised Smith and her
elder sister Molly, and became the most important person in Smith’s life and the
person with whom she devotedly spent the remainder of her life. When her aunt grew
old and feeble, Smith looked after her, although she herself was often in ill health.
Spear was a feminist who claimed to have “no patience” with men, possibly in the
same sense that she said she had “no patience” with Hitler. Smith and Molly were
raised without men and thus became attached to their own independence, in contrast
to what Smith described as the typical Victorian family atmosphere of “father knows
best.”
Smith had a good education at Palmers Green High School, concentrating on
French and the classics, and then attended North London Collegiate School for Girls.
Her older sister Molly was able to go to university, but there
was by then insufficient money for Smith to attend the London
School of Journalism, as she wished, so she commuted daily to a
central London secretarial school. After graduating, she began at
Newnes Publishing Company in London as a secretary with the
magazine publisher George Newnes and went on to be the
private secretary to the two directors of the firm, Sir Neville
Pearson and Sir Frank Newnes. She began writing poetry in her
twenties while working at the firm from 1923 to 1953. Despite
her secluded life, Smith managed to lead a lively social life in
London and was known for the vividness and variety of her
conversation at parties. She also corresponded and socialized Stevie Smith 1930s
widely with many other writers and creative artists. In 1953 she
retired from Pearson’s service following a nervous breakdown
and suicide attempt in her office (when she was in constant pain from an arthritic
knee, in dispute with the Inland Revenue, and permanently tired at work). Having
been pensioned off by Pearson, she was able to devote more time to her writing; she
gave poetry readings and broadcasts on the BBC that gained her new friends and
readers among a younger generation. Sylvia Plath became a fan of her poetry,
describing herself as “a desperate Smith-addict”; she had asked Smith to meet with
 Snodgrass, Smith Introduction 3

her but, sadly and ironically, committed suicide before the meeting could occur.
Smith herself suffered throughout her life from an acute nervousness, described as a
mix of shyness and intense sensitivity. She also suffered all her life from depression,
so it is not surprising that death, what she called her “gentle friend,” became perhaps
her most popular subject. She once said that she was so consoled by the thought of
death as a release that she had no need to commit suicide. She wrote that death was
“the only god who must come when he is called.”
Having been raised by her aunt as both a spoiled child and a resolutely
autonomous woman, Smith was described by her friends as being naive and selfish in
some ways and formidably intelligent in others. Likewise, her political views
vacillated between her aunt’s Toryism and her friends’ left-wing tendencies. Smith
was celibate for most of her life, although she rejected the idea that she was lonely as
a result, alleging that she had a number of intimate relationships with friends and
family that kept her fulfilled. Smith illustrated many of her poems with quaint
drawings (“doodles” as she called them) which have the same kind of oddity as the
poetry. She was a religious skeptic who was at the same time fascinated by
theological speculation, the language of the Bible, and religious experience. She
never entirely accepted or abandoned the Anglican faith of her childhood, describing
herself as a “lapsed atheist”—her volatile attachment to the Church of England is
evident in her poetry. Much of her inspiration came from theology and the fairy tales
of the Brothers Grimm, and she often wrote sensitively about theological matters.
Smith first appeared as a novelist with Novel on Yellow Paper (1936), which
was soon followed by 2 further novels and 9 volumes of poetry. It was Novel on
Yellow Paper and her first volume of poetry A Good Time Was Had By All (1937)
that established her reputation, and her poems began to appear frequently in
newspapers and periodicals. Novel on Yellow Paper, drawing heavily on her own life
experience and structured as the random typings of a bored secretary, deals with the
unrest in England during WWI. Smith herself dismissed her 2 nd novel Over the
Frontier (1938)—which deals with militarism and asks how the necessary fight
against fascism can be achieved without descending into the
nationalism and dehumanization that fascism represents—as a
failed experiment, but its attempt to parody popular genre
fiction in order to explore profound political issues now seems
to anticipate post-modern fiction. Her 3 rd and last novel The
Holiday (1949), concerned with personal and political malaise
in the immediate post-WWII period, was her personal favorite
and probably the most fully realized. It describes a series of
hopeless but intractable relationships mirroring the novel’s
political concerns. Smith admitted that 2 of the male
characters in the book are different aspects of George Orwell,
Stevie Smith, BBC 1949
who was close to Smith. There were rumors that they were
lovers, although he was married to his first wife at the time.
All her novels are lightly fictionalized accounts of her own life, which got her into
 Snodgrass, Smith Introduction 4

trouble at times as people recognized themselves. Their style is often very dark; her
characters are ever bidding “goodbye” to their friends or welcoming death. Even so,
her work also is very funny, having an eerie levity though neither light nor
whimsical. Never sentimental, Smith constantly undercut any potentially pathetic
effects with humor that was ruthlessly honest.
Her 1 st volume of verse A Good Time Was Had By All (1937) established the
combination of “caprice and doom” that remained characteristic of both her poems
and the quirky line drawings which often accompanied them. The jaunty tone of the
title is also pure Smith, whose work thrives on co-existing
contradictions—jokey and serious, colloquial and formal,
sophisticated and child-like. Though her poems were
remarkably consistent in tone and quality throughout her life,
their subject matter changed over time, with less of the
outrageous wit of her youth and more reflection on suffering,
faith, and the end of life. Nursery-rhyme motifs, puns, and
seemingly light-hearted verse structures are all used to explore
unsettling depths. The startling disjunctions in tone in “Not
Waving But Drowning,” which was inspired by a newspaper
story about a drowning man whose friends thought he was
waving to them, or the innocent narrative voice of “The Frog Stevie Smith 1954
Prince” who looks forward to being “disenchanted,” display
Smith’s sensibility at its unnerving best. Her rendition of these classic poems is just
as mischievous, playful, although like the playfulness of a cat—charming and elegant
but concealing very sharp claws.
In the 1960s Smith built a popular reputation as a performer of her own work,
playing up her eccentricity and ceremonially half-singing some of her poems in a
quavering voice. She also made a number of broadcasts and
recordings, her skillful and extensive use of personae
lending itself particularly well to reading aloud. She was
awarded the Cholmondeley Award for Poets in 1966 and
won the Queen's Gold Medal for poetry in 1969. Stevie
Smith died of a brain tumor in 1971, only three years after
her indomitable aunt. Her last collection Scorpion and other
Poems was published posthumously in 1972, and the
Collected Poems followed in 1975. Three novels were
republished, and a successful play, Stevie, written by Hugh
Whitemore, was based on her life and was filmed in 1978,
starring Glenda Jackson and Mona Washbourne. Stevie Smith 1969
Stevie Smith’s highly individualistic poetic style was
particularly vulnerable to shifts in critical taste and to the charges of eccentricity.
Her language, which the Times Literary Supplement reviewer termed her “most
distinctive achievement,” perhaps contributed most to the deceptive quality of her
work, with its combination of seemingly prosaic statements, variety of voices,
 Snodgrass, Smith Introduction 5

playful meter, and deep sense of irony: “The cliches, the excesses, the crabbed
formalities of this speech are given weight by the chillingly amusing or disquieting
elements; by the sense of a refined, ironic unhappiness underlying the poems; and by
the variety of topics embraced by the poet’s three or four basic and serious themes.”
Below the surface oddness, her personal voice evinces
something questing, discomfiting, compassionate. Smith
once noted that what prompted her to write were the
“pressures” of both despair and joy. As poet Wright
observed, “the apparent geniality of many of her poems
is in fact more frightening than the solemn keening and
sentimental despair of other poets, for it is based on a
clear-sighted acceptance, by a mind neither obtuse nor Stevie Smith 1971
unimaginative, but sharp and serious, innocent but far
from naive, and . . . having a bias towards life and survival.” As the TLS critic
remarked, by combining a deceptively simple form and mannered language with
serious themes, Smith was able “both to compass the pity and terror of her themes
and to respond to them with rueful courage and humour.” Or as Jerome McGann
explained in Poetry, she offers us “imaginary gardens with real toads in them.”