This article is taken from the November 2025 issue of The Critic. To get the full magazine why not subscribe? Get five issues for just £25.
It is rare that a book of poetry, let alone a review of a book of poetry, makes the news, but recently a review by Graeme Richardson in the Sunday Times of a book by Len Pennie did so.
Mr Richardson did not much care for the book; indeed he found it execrable. He said that Pennie was the worst poet to have come out of Scotland since William McGonagall. A Scottish newspaper, the National, reminded readers that the latter was the author of that “infamous work”, The Tay Bridge Disaster.
This work is not infamous; it is famous. Nothing about McGonagall, including his work, was infamous, and once one has read his biography, one feels nothing but sympathy, admiration and sorrow for the man. His work certainly does not live in infamy.
The review pointed out the similarity between some lines in one of the author’s poems to those of another contemporary poet, a similarity so great that it suggested more than a normal degree of influence. This suggestion of plagiarism upset the publisher, Canongate, which said, “Canongate refutes completely this baseless allegation.”
It did nothing of the kind. Only in a world of “my truth” are denial and refutation synonymous. One would have hoped for better from a respectable publisher.
Another author, Emma Mitchell, came to Pennie’s defence, posting “Your [Richardson’s] review is naught but bullying and many in the industry agree. Many.”
Here the reader might wonder to which industry the commentator was referring. The poetry industry? But perhaps poetry is now a branch of the AI industry.
Our commentator continues: “You’ve caused her huge pain. Maybe that was your aim, to erode a successful but vulnerable woman.” Rocks are eroded, and perhaps reputations of people, but not people themselves.
As to vulnerability, the National informs us that the poet “has amassed a huge online following with videos … racking up 700,000 followers on TikTok and more than 500,000 on Instagram”. That does not sound like vulnerability to me; it sounds more like exhibitionism. But I am old-fashioned: perhaps we live in an age of exhibitionistic vulnerability.
