Rose Macaulay

Rose Macaulay Poems

When we fought campaigns (in the long Christmas rains)
With soldiers spread in troops on the floor,
...

We lay and ate the sweet hurt-berries
In the bracken of Hurt Wood.
Like a quire of singers singing low
The dark pines stood.
...

There was a shadow on the moon; I saw it poise and tilt and go
Its lonely way, and so I know that the blue velvet night will soon
...

Cambridge town is a beleaguered city;
For south and north, like a sea,
There beat on its gates, without haste or pity,
...

Rose Macaulay Biography

Dame Emilie Rose Macaulay, DBE (born 1 August 1881, Rugby, Warwickshire, England – died 30 October 1958) was a British writer. She published thirty-five books, mostly novels but also biographies and travel writing. Macaulay was educated at Oxford High School for Girls and read Modern History at Somerville College at Oxford University. She began writing her first novel, Abbots Verney (published 1906), after leaving Somerville and while living with her parents at Ty Isaf, near Aberystwyth, in Wales. Later novels include The Lee Shore (1912), Potterism (1920), Dangerous Ages (1921), Told by an Idiot (1923), And No Man's Wit (1940), The World My Wilderness (1950), and The Towers of Trebizond (1956). Her non-fiction work includes They Went to Portugal, Catchwords and Claptrap, a biography of Milton, and Pleasure of Ruins. During World War I Macaulay worked in the British Propaganda Department, after some time as a nurse and later as a civil servant in the War Office. She pursued a romantic affair with Gerald O'Donovan, a writer and former Jesuit priest, from 1918 until his death in 1942. During the interwar period she was a sponsor of the Peace Pledge Union. Her London flat was utterly destroyed in the Blitz, and she had to rebuild her life and library from scratch, as documented in the semi-autobiographical short story "Miss Anstruther's Letters", published in 1942. The Towers of Trebizond, Macaulay's final novel, is generally regarded as her masterpiece. Strongly autobiographical, it treats with wistful humour and deep sadness the attractions of mystical Christianity, and the irremediable conflict between adulterous love and the demands of the Christian faith. For this work, she received the James Tait Black Memorial Prize in 1956. Reviewers have described Macaulay as "one of the few significant English novelists of the twentieth century to identify herself as a Christian and to use Christian themes in her writing". Rose Macaulay was never a simple believer in "mere Christianity," however, and her writings reveal a more complex, mystical sense of the divine. That said, she did not return to the Anglican church until 1953; she had been an ardent secularist before and, while religious themes pervade her novels, previous to her conversion she often treats Christianity satirically, for instance in Going Abroad and The World My Wilderness. She was created a Dame of the British Empire (DBE) in 1958, the year she died, aged 77.)

The Best Poem Of Rose Macaulay

Many Sisters To Many Brothers

When we fought campaigns (in the long Christmas rains)
With soldiers spread in troops on the floor,
I shot as straight as you, my losses were as few,
My victories as many, or more.
And when in naval battle, amid cannon's rattle,
Fleet met fleet in the bath,
My cruisers were as trim, my battleships as grim,
My submarines cut as swift a path.
Or, when it rained too long, and the strength of the strong
Surged up and broke a way with blows,
I was as fit and keen, my fists hit as clean,
Your black eye matched my bleeding nose.
Was there a scrap or ploy in which you, the boy,
Could better me? You could not climb higher,
Ride straighter, run as quick (and to smoke made you sick)
. . . But I sit here, and you're under fire.

Oh, it's you that have the luck, out there in blood and muck:
You were born beneath a kindly star;

All we dreamt, I and you, you can really go and do,
And I can't, the way things are.
In a trench you are sitting, while I am knitting
A hopeless sock that never gets done.
Well, here's luck, my dear;--and you've got it, no fear;
But for me . . . a war is poor fun.

Rose Macaulay Comments

Sheila Chettle 10 August 2020

The Towers of Trebizond has been in my library for years, but I only recently got round to reading it. Pages of enchantment, expressing such humanity and understanding- The tragic death of her lover at the end is heart-rending, and I would find it hard to believe that she had not suffered in the same way. But I know little about her personal life, and would like to know whether she did have a passionate relationship like the one she describes.

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Rose Macaulay Quotes

Sleeping in a bed—it is, apparently, of immense importance. Against those who sleep, from choice or necessity, elsewhere society feels righteously hostile. It is not done. It is disorderly, anarchical.

Cranks live by theory, not by pure desire. They want votes, peace, nuts, liberty, and spinning-looms not because they love these things, as a child loves jam, but because they think they ought to have them. That is one element which makes the crank.

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