A Subaltern's Love Song
Miss J. Hunter Dunn, Miss J. Hunter Dunn,
Furnish'd and burnish'd by Aldershot sun,
What strenuous singles we played after tea,
We in the tournament - you against me!
Love-thirty, love-forty, oh! weakness of joy,
The speed of a swallow, the grace of a boy,
With carefullest carelessness, gaily you won,
I am weak from your loveliness, Joan Hunter Dunn.
Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn,
How mad I am, sad I am, glad that you won,
The warm-handled racket is back in its press,
But my shock-headed victor, she loves me no less.
Her father's euonymus shines as we walk,
And swing past the summer-house, buried in talk,
And cool the verandah that welcomes us in
To the six-o'clock news and a lime-juice and gin.
The scent of the conifers, sound of the bath,
The view from my bedroom of moss-dappled path,
As I struggle with double-end evening tie,
For we dance at the Golf Club, my victor and I.
On the floor of her bedroom lie blazer and shorts,
And the cream-coloured walls are be-trophied with sports,
And westering, questioning settles the sun,
On your low-leaded window, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn.
The Hillman is waiting, the light's in the hall,
The pictures of Egypt are bright on the wall,
My sweet, I am standing beside the oak stair
And there on the landing's the light on your hair.
By roads "not adopted", by woodlanded ways,
She drove to the club in the late summer haze,
Into nine-o'clock Camberley, heavy with bells
And mushroomy, pine-woody, evergreen smells.
Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn,
I can hear from the car park the dance has begun,
Oh! Surrey twilight! importunate band!
Oh! strongly adorable tennis-girl's hand!
Around us are Rovers and Austins afar,
Above us the intimate roof of the car,
And here on my right is the girl of my choice,
With the tilt of her nose and the chime of her voice.
And the scent of her wrap, and the words never said,
And the ominous, ominous dancing ahead.
We sat in the car park till twenty to one
And now I'm engaged to Miss Joan Hunter Dunn.
Commentary
I like this one as much for the title as for anything that follows. A poem that admits to being a Love Song right off the bat, needs to balance the sentimentality of the confession with, well… something. Where Eliot used J. Alfred Prufrock, Betjeman uses A Subaltern… and follows up with the introduction of the entirely bewitching Miss J. Hunter Dunn. And if the title fails to inspire interest, well then I dare any reader to rein in at the end of the first verse. Betjeman at his merriest is impossibly irresistible. His rhythms have been called near-Tennysonian, a deliciously accurate observation: like the earlier Laureate, Betjeman too, slips with breathtaking ease into beautiful babblings. And like the girl that is its fascination, the poem too is light and lovely, swift and sure of foot (that could well be feet :)). Miss Dunn in all her athletic splendour, outdoorsy goodlooks and snub-nosed wholesomeness, is representative of the species of girlhood that Betjeman’s verse was particularly susceptible to (in his own words)– ‘The tennis-playing biking girl/ The wholly-to-my-liking girl”… Here’s a poet who has a way with hyphens and the words that go with them, a poet who can charm the cynic out of anyone1 with his style of story-telling. I love the loving attention he pays to inconsequential (but then again maybe not so) details – the pictures of Egypt, the double-end evening tie, the scent of her wrap, her father’s euonymus that shines as they walk… 2 I like too that he makes a precious habit of investing inanimates with human qualities thereby giving us such wonders as a questioning sun, an importunate band, an intimate roof…
Great poetry doesn’t always make for happy reading. Sometimes it does. And sometimes, like with Betjeman’s poem, it can be, quite simply, a joy.
— pavi
“A Subaltern’s Love-Song”
Feel her foreplay - more than kisses!
Now I'll have to call her Mrs.
– Bill Greenwell
…Well, almost anyone then ;-)
Show 12 commentsHide comments
From the Wondering Minstrels mailing list, 1999–2008.
mamaliga · 25 April 2001
Oh yes, this was such a gush of delight. Tongue so firmly in cheek, hardly any teeth, but for “the ominus, ominus’ and even that how like omnibus, oh and a big smile.
Thank you Pavi.
Axbey Stephen · 29 April 2001
Fantastic to see this one again and realise again that it’s actually very good.
I wondered how many non-English readers puzzled over “roads ‘not adopted’ “?
This intriguing-sounding phrase actually has quite a banal meaning: When the local government recognise a road as a public road and therefore assume responsibility for the maintenance and upkeep etc the road is said to be “adopted”
Unadopted roads might be (for instance) in an exclusive housing estate, or a road that leads to the golf-club alone.
Bob Clyde · 13 February 2002
Re: Euonymus – the OED gives the following:
1785 J. M. Mason Notes on Shaks. 349 The euonymus, of which the best skewers are made, is called Prick-wood.
Perhaps JB had a more risqué sense of humour than might otherwise be inferred from the context.
Bob Clyde
5 Dartmouth Hill
London SE10 8AJ
TEL: +44 (0)7767 786 940
Donald Bullock · 19 May 2002
I too am a student of John Betjeman. Who is, or was, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn? Can anyone tell me ?
Incidentally, I commend his poem Executive to anyone who hasn’t read it. How well he captures the ‘developer’ pest and ‘allows’ him to indict himself with his ‘own’ clique-ridden utterances !
Donald Bullock,
Spain.
Amelia Knott · 29 August 2006
In case Mr Bullock is still interested, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn is the grandmother of one of my closest friends. Her romance with John Betjeman did not last very long and her parents were apparently mortified when the poem was published and thought it was most inappropriate.
Kind regards,
Amelia
trem · 18 October 2006
Hi Donald,
Just came across your posting re: Joan Hunter Dunn in the John Betjeman Poem, A Subaltern’s Love Song.
I’m currently researching my family tree and believe Joan Hunter Dunn (b.
1915) may have been a relation of mine.
I dont know much else about her, only that my mother had been told by others in the family that she was referenced by JB in a poem.
Cheers,
Trem
The Furneaux Press · 16 April 2008
From another Donald
To know who was Miss J Hunter Dunn, see the obituary of Joan Jackson in the Daily Telegraph of today’s date, 17 April
James F Warren · 17 April 2008
You might be interested to know that Miss Joan Hunter Dunn in Betjeman’s poem died on April 11, 2008 and her obituary is in today’s London Times.
James Warren
This communication is not intended to be used, and cannot be used, by the recipient or any other person for the purpose of avoiding United States federal tax penalties that may be imposed on the recipient or such other person. In addition, if any US federal tax advice contained in this communication is used or referred to in promoting, marketing or recommending any corporation, partnership or other entity, investment plan, concept, structure or arrangement (which should be assumed to be the case by a recipient or other person who is not our client with respect to the subject matter of the communication), then (i) such tax advice should be construed as written to support the promotion or marketing of the transactions or matters addressed by the advice and (ii) the recipient or other person should seek advice based on the recipient or other person’s particular circumstances from an independent tax advisor.
david.j.picking · 23 April 2008
Joan Jackson nee Miss Joan Hunter Dunn
Obituary Reference Daily Telegraph 17/04/08 Aged 92
Emily · 23 April 2008
I’m fairly certain this poem refers to John Donne’s “A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning,” which one can find in the archives. There’s a line, “Dull sublunary lovers’ love” from which Betjeman presumably draws the title. Moreover, the word play on “Joan Dunn” certainly recommends itself (Donne is pronounced like Dunn). I saw people expressing curiosity over her name, so thought I would throw out that hypothesis, although I don’t venture to interpret the poem in that light.
I have a question: Does the poem remind anyone of Proust’s Recherce, and particularly Albertine? Perhaps this is just Proust invading my perceptions (wouldn’t be the first time), but the descriptions of the girl as a tennis-playing, bike-riding, boyish young girl, the comparison of her to a bird, the comments on the light playing off of her hair, the importance of the car, the name “Camberley” reminiscent of “Combray,” the negative twist of “ominous, ominous dancing ahead” leading right into the engagement in spite of the otherwise positive regard for the relationship… Certainly many aspects don’t line up in such convenient accordance, but I thought others might find the comparison interesting.
- Emily
Damian Crowther · 25 April 2008
Did u want to know about miss joan hunter dunne?
Sue Hempel · 25 April 2008
There is an obituary for Miss Joan Hunter Dunn (Joan Jackson) in the Sydney Morning Herald of April 25-27 2008