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The
Name Change:
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Q:
What about the story that you changed your name fron
Bob Zimmerman to Bob Dylan because you admired the poetry of
Dylan Thomas ?
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Bob
Dylan: No , God no . I took the Dylan because I have
an uncle named Dilion . I changed the spelling but only because
it looked better . I've read some of Dylan Thomas 's stuff ,
and it's not the same as mine.
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Dylan
Marlais Thomas was born in Swansea, Wales on 27 October, 1914.
After leaving school he worked briefly as a junior reporter on the
South Wales Evening Post. In November 1934 he moved to London
and in December of that year his first book of poetry, Eighteen
Poems
appeared to critical acclaim. In April 1936 he met his future wife,
Caitlin Macnamara. In September 1936, his second volume of poetry
Twenty-five poems was released. In July 1937 Dylan and Caitlin
were married and the following year they moved to Laugharne, Wales.
Their first child, Llewelyn Edouard Thomas was born in January 1939.
The Map of Love (soon to be the title of a major film) was
published in August and The world I breathe in December.
In
April 1940 Portrait of the Artist as a Young Dog was published
and in September Dylan began working for Strand Films which he continued
for the duration of the Second World War. His second child Aeronwy Bryn
Thomas was born in March 1943. Deaths and Entrances was published
in 1946. In 1949 his third child, Colm Garan Hart Thomas
born. In 1952 his final volume Collected Poems was published.
He also published many short stories, wrote filmscripts, broadcast stories
and talks, did a series of lecture tours in the United States and wrote
Under Milkwood, the radio play for voices.
During
his fourth lecture tour of the United States in 1953, and a few days
after his 39th birthday, he collapsed in his New York hotel. He died
on November 9th at St Vincents Hospital, New York. His body was sent
back to Laugharne, Wales, where his grave is marked by a simple wooden
cross.
In
July 1994 his wife, Caitlin Thomas died in Italy, where she had spent
most of the years of her life after the death of Dylan Thomas.
Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light
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