The British: ‘a people living in shells, reticent, awkward, deeply suspicious’

The British: ‘a people living in shells, reticent, awkward, deeply suspicious’
Writing about FW Murnau’s silent film Sunrise in my previous post, I mentioned a poem called ‘Silent Cinema’ that I had come across.  It was by Arthur Tessimond (1902-1962), a poet about whom his current publisher, Bloodaxe Books admits on their website ‘almost all trace … has disappeared.’

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