Re: “Last line of a poetic romance,” March 14.
I first came across Patrick Lane’s poetry in the late 1960s. Irving Layton was singing Patrick’s praises at that early date and introduced me to Patrick’s poetry. Soon after I came to the West Coast in 1974, I met Patrick and we became friends over those formative years.
I will never forget the birthday gift of a salamander that Pat and Lorna Crozier gave me: It came with a wish for transformation, though a maverick hermit crab might have been more appropriate.
Patrick’s writing in the 1970s became a benchmark for poets of his day; I think particularly of his slim volume of South American poems, Unborn Things, published by Howie White at Harbour Press in 1975.
The horror of his early life never left Patrick, but he found the strength of will and a depth of courage to turn his “dark night of the soul” into poems that will live forever. With Lorna at his side, his last decades found Pat in a state of grace that was a joy to behold.
After the death of our mentor Al Purdy in 2000, Patrick and I simply drifted apart, as friends occasionally do in late middle age. But the friendship and respect we shared over those formative years remained. I have always thought that Patrick Lane was the finest 91ԭ poet of my generation.
Might I suggest that Saanichton host a celebration of life for Patrick on Tuesday, March 26, which would have been his 80th birthday?
Doug Beardsley
Saanichton