Opposites attract in Paterson's work, his language switching from colloquial to erudite, from playful knowingness to naked lyricism, from Scots to English. All these tensions are held in place by a breathtaking technical skill: a Paterson poem reads like a score, is undeniably, though seemingly effortlessly, composed. This generates a sense of both division and unity: on the one hand many of his poems are acutely conscious of themselves as fiction, the narrator taking us into his confidence (which may or may not be a trick): "In short, this is where you get off, reader" ('Nil, Nil'). On the other hand his frequent use of interlocking rhyme maintains an aural unity which keeps the poems whole. So in the Arvon Prize-winning 'A Private Bottling', the distance between narrator and sleeping lover is traced in the fluctuating rhymes which sometimes appear as couplets, sometimes several lines apart. By contrast the beautiful poems to his children in Landing Light celebrate the closeness of the human bond: "I kissed your mouth and pledged myself forever" ('Waking with Russell').
Paterson has spoken of his suspicion of poetry in performance, preferring to see the completed poem as autonomous. Certainly his use of alternative personas refuses any claim to an individual 'personality', however his sharp delivery adds a distinctive tang to the work, whoever's doing the talking.
His recording was made for The Poetry Archive on 24 August 2005 at The Audio Workshop, London and was produced by Anne Rosenfeld.