PN Review Print and Online Poetry Magazine
Most Read... Drew MilneTom Raworth’s Writing
‘present past improved’: Tom Raworth’s Writing

(PN Review 236)
Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
Alejandro Fernandez-OsorioPomace (trans. James Womack)
(PN Review 236)
Kei MillerIn the Shadow of Derek Walcott
1930–2017

(PN Review 235)
Kate BinghamPuddle
(PN Review 236)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
Gratis Ad 1
Gratis Ad 2
Next Issue Michelle Holmes on ‘Whitman, Alabama’ Les Murray Eight Poems Gabriel Josipovici Who Dares Wins: Reflections on Translation Maureen N. McLane Four Poems James Womack Europe (after the German of Marie Luise Kaschnitz)

This report is taken from PN Review 61, Volume 14 Number 5, May - June 1988.

My Life with Picasso David Arkell
Seeing Paloma on television the other day reminded me of the time she walked over a fat Frenchman on the beach at Collioure. 'Little brat!' he had cried, or its equivalent in demotic French. But when told it was Picasso's child he weakly waited for her to do it again.

The year was 1954, the month September. I had taken a late summer holiday and, after spending some time in Perpignan listening to sardanes in the Palmarium, I had pushed on to Collioure in the hope of a few last summer bathes in the Mediterranean.

I had never been to Collioure before, so I turned in at the Café des Sports, a typical enough place with the zinc bar just inside the doorway to the left. Sitting there on a stool and sipping a drink of the day called Suze, I let my eyes wander. Behind the rows of apéritif bottles there was a mirror and, reflected in it, a red banquette, occupied at the moment by a noisy group of Spaniards. Amused by their antics, I turned to look at them and did a double-take, having recognized in one of them the well-known features of Picasso. It was my first inkling that he was in these parts, his usual habitat being the Côte d'Azur, some two hundred miles to the east.

So I got talking to the owner of the place, one René Pous, who told me that the great man had only recently ...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image