Derek Walcott

Derek Walcott

1930–2017 · lived 87 years LC LC

Derek Walcott was a Saint Lucian poet and playwright, celebrated for his sweeping epics and lyrical meditations on Caribbean identity, history, and the enduring power of the natural world. His work often explored the complex legacy of colonialism, the interplay of different cultures, and the search for selfhood in a postcolonial landscape. Educated in the British tradition yet deeply rooted in the Caribbean, Walcott's poetry is characterized by its rich imagery, classical allusions, and masterful use of language, often blending European literary forms with the rhythms and spirit of his native islands. He received numerous accolades for his contributions to literature, including the Nobel Prize in Literature.

n. 1930-01-23, Castries · m. 2017-03-17, Cap Estate

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Egypt, Tobago

Egypt, Tobago

There is a shattered palm
on this fierce shore,
its plumes the rusting helmet
of a dead warrior.


Numb Antony, in the torpor
stretching her inert
sex near him like a sleeping cat,
knows his heart is the real desert.


Over the dunes
of her heaving,
to his heart's drumming
fades the mirage of the legions,


across love-tousled sheets,
the triremes fading.
Ar the carved door of her temple
a fly wrings its message.


He brushes a damp hair
away from an ear
as perfect as a sleeping child's.
He stares, inert, the fallen column.


He lies like a copper palm
tree at three in the afternoon
by a hot sea
and a river, in Egypt, Tobago


Her salt marsh dries in the heat
where he foundered
without armor.
He exchanged an empire for her beads of sweat,


the uproar of arenas,
the changing surf
of senators, for
this silent ceiling over silent sand


this grizzled bear, whose fur,
moulting, is silvered for
this quick fox with her
sweet stench. By sleep dismembered,


his head
is in Egypt, his feet
in Rome, his groin a desert
trench with its dead soldier.


He drifts a finger
through her stiff hair



crisp as a mare's fountaining tail.
Shadows creep up the palace tile.


He is too tired to move;
a groan would waken
trumpets, one more gesture
war. His glare,


a shield
reflecting fires,
a brass brow that cannot frown
at carnage, sweats the sun's force.


It is not the turmoil
of autumnal lust,
its treacheries, that drove
him, fired and grimed with dust,


this far, not even love,
but a great rage without
clamor, that grew great
because its depth is quiet;


it hears the river
of her young brown blood,
it feels the whole sky quiver
with her blue eyelid.


She sleeps with the soft engine of a child,


that sleep which scythes
the stalks of lances, fells the
harvest of legions
with nothing for its knives,
that makes Caesars,


sputtering at flies,
slapping their foreheads
with the laurel's imprint,
drunkards, comedians.


All-humbling sleep, whose peace
is sweet as death,
whose silence has
all the sea's weight and volubility,


who swings this globe by a hair's trembling breath.


Shattered and wild and
palm-crowned Antony,
rusting in Egypt,
ready to lose the world,



to Actium and sand,

everything else
is vanity, but this tenderness
for a woman not his mistress
but his sleeping child.

The sky is cloudless. The afternoon is mild.
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Bio

Identification and basic context

Derek Alton Walcott was born in Castries, Saint Lucia. He wrote in English and was of mixed African and European (Dutch-English) ancestry. His family was predominantly English-speaking, and he was raised in the Protestant tradition.

Childhood and education

Walcott's father, a civil servant and amateur painter, died when Derek was young. His mother was a teacher. He and his twin brother, Roderick, were raised in a modest household. Walcott received his early education at the St. Mary's College in Saint Lucia. He then attended the University College of the West Indies in Jamaica, where he studied English, French, and Latin. His education was heavily influenced by British literary traditions and classical studies.

Literary trajectory

Walcott began writing poetry at a young age, publishing his first poems at 14. He developed his craft through extensive reading and a deep engagement with literary traditions. His early works often reflected the landscape and culture of the Caribbean. He moved to Trinidad in 1953 and became a prominent figure in the burgeoning postcolonial literary scene. His career spanned several decades, marked by continuous innovation and a deepening engagement with themes of identity, history, and place.

Works, style, and literary characteristics

Walcott's major works include the epic poem *Omeros* (1990), which retells the story of the Iliad and the Odyssey in a Caribbean setting, and *Sea Grapes* (1976). His poetry is renowned for its vivid imagery, musicality, and a sophisticated blend of classical learning with Caribbean vernacular. Themes central to his work include the complex legacy of colonialism, the beauty and violence of the Caribbean landscape, the search for identity in a hybrid culture, and the power of art and language to transcend division. He employed a range of forms, from sonnets to free verse, often experimenting with meter and rhythm. His style is characterized by its lyrical intensity, intellectual depth, and a profound sense of place.

Cultural and historical context

Walcott's work is deeply situated within the context of postcolonialism. He grappled with the historical impact of European colonization on the Caribbean, exploring the resultant cultural hybridity and the search for a unique Caribbean identity. He was a contemporary of other prominent postcolonial writers and engaged in dialogues about the literary and political landscape of the region. His generation of writers often sought to articulate a distinct Caribbean voice, challenging Eurocentric literary norms.

Personal life

Walcott was married twice and had three children. His personal experiences, including his relationships and his deep connection to the Caribbean, significantly informed his poetry. He worked as a journalist, a teacher, and a theater critic, often balancing his literary pursuits with other professional activities.

Recognition and reception

Derek Walcott received widespread critical acclaim and numerous honors throughout his career. His most significant award was the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1992, for "a poetic obra imbued with luminous clarity and bound to a rich tradition." He was also awarded the Queen's Gold Medal for Poetry and was knighted by the British crown.

Influences and legacy

Walcott was influenced by poets such as T.S. Eliot, Ezra Pound, and Dylan Thomas, as well as classical poets like Homer. His work, in turn, has profoundly influenced generations of Caribbean and diasporic writers, helping to shape the literary landscape of the postcolonial world. He is considered one of the most important poets of the late 20th century.

Interpretation and critical analysis

Critics often analyze Walcott's work through the lens of postcolonial theory, examining his engagement with issues of race, identity, and cultural hybridity. His masterful weaving of classical mythology into Caribbean settings has been a subject of much scholarly discussion. His poetry is celebrated for its aesthetic beauty and its profound exploration of human experience.

Curiosities and lesser-known aspects

Walcott was also an accomplished painter, and his visual art often informed his poetic imagery. He was known for his passionate and sometimes controversial public pronouncements on literary and cultural matters.

Death and memory

Derek Walcott died at his home in Saint Lucia. His legacy continues to be celebrated through his extensive body of work, which remains a vital source for understanding Caribbean identity and the complexities of the modern world.

Poems

12

A Far Cry From Africa

A Far Cry From Africa

A wind is ruffling the tawny pelt
Of Africa, Kikuyu, quick as flies,
Batten upon the bloodstreams of the veldt.
Corpses are scattered through a paradise.
Only the worm, colonel of carrion, cries:
'Waste no compassion on these separate dead!'
Statistics justify and scholars seize
The salients of colonial policy.
What is that to the white child hacked in bed?
To savages, expendable as Jews?
Threshed out by beaters, the long rushes break
In a white dust of ibises whose cries
Have wheeled since civilizations dawn
>From the parched river or beast-teeming plain.
The violence of beast on beast is read
As natural law, but upright man
Seeks his divinity by inflicting pain.
Delirious as these worried beasts, his wars
Dance to the tightened carcass of a drum,
While he calls courage still that native dread
Of the white peace contracted by the dead.


Again brutish necessity wipes its hands
Upon the napkin of a dirty cause, again
A waste of our compassion, as with Spain,
The gorilla wrestles with the superman.
I who am poisoned with the blood of both,
Where shall I turn, divided to the vein?
I who have cursed
The drunken officer of British rule, how choose
Between this Africa and the English tongue I love?
Betray them both, or give back what they give?
How can I face such slaughter and be cool?
How can I turn from Africa and live?
1,903

A City's Death By Fire

A City's Death By Fire

After that hot gospeller has levelled all but the churched sky,
I wrote the tale by tallow of a city's death by fire;
Under a candle's eye, that smoked in tears, I
Wanted to tell, in more than wax, of faiths that were snapped like wire.
All day I walked abroad among the rubbled tales,
Shocked at each wall that stood on the street like a liar;
Loud was the bird-rocked sky, and all the clouds were bales
Torn open by looting, and white, in spite of the fire.
By the smoking sea, where Christ walked, I asked, why
Should a man wax tears, when his wooden world fails?
In town, leaves were paper, but the hills were a flock of faiths;
To a boy who walked all day, each leaf was a green breath
Rebuilding a love I thought was dead as nails,
Blessing the death and the baptism by fire.
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Quotes

6

Videos

50

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