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The Irish Literary Times
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Up-to-Date Coverage of The World of Irish Literature
Curated by
Gerard Beirne
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From the Archives: Colm Tóibín celebrates the riches of Irish verse 
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For this week’s Poem of the Week, we’re taking a look at one of Richard Murphy’s lovely, haunting poems. “Seals at High Island” comes from Richard Murphy: Collected Poems 1952-2000, which we published in 2001, and is available here.
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Deceptions
Mornings when I put the necessary sunblock on
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John Ennis is one of Ireland’s most well-established senior poets. With fourteen collections and a bevy of prizes behind him, he also has a special connection to Newfoundland and Labrador. As Head of the School of Humanities at Waterford Institute of Technology until his retirement in 2009, he was Chair of the Centre for Newfoundland and Labrador Studies. During his position he edited a book of Irish and Newfoundland poetry.
In his fascinating and perhaps most ambitious collection to date, Ennis turns his attention north again, this time to Iceland through the unlikely inspiration of the post-rock band, Sigur Rós. Ennis came relatively late to the band, only discovering them for the first time in 2011 while watching the award-winning 2007 documentary, Heima, (Icelandic for "home") which tracked a series of free concerts Sigur Rós gave in Iceland. Ennis fell for the band, hook, line and sinker, and has been strongly under the Sigur Rós spell ever since. Now that spell has transmuted into a book of remarkable poems that responds to their music.
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“The Fetch”Ciaran Carson I woke. You were lying beside me in the double bed,prone, your long dark hair fanned out over the downy pillow. I’d been dreaming we stood on a beach an ocean awaywatching the waves purl into their troughs and tumble over. Knit one, purl two, you said. Something in your voice made me thinkof women knitting by the guillotine. Your eyes met mine. The fetch of a wave is the distance it travels, you said,from where it is born at sea to where it founders to shore. I must go back to where it all began. You waded inthigh-deep, waist-deep, breast-deep, head-deep, until you disappeared. I lay there and thought how glad I was to find you again.You stirred in the bed and moaned something. I heard a footfall on the landing, the rasp of a man’s cough. He put his headaround the door. He had my face. I woke. You were not there.
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This book retells the story of Irish poetry written in English between the union of Britain and Ireland in 1801 and the early years of the Irish Free State. Through careful poetic and historical analysis, Matthew Campbell offers ways to read that poetry as ruptured, musical, translated and new. The book starts with the Romantic songs and parodies of nationalist and unionist writers - Moore, Mahony, Ferguson and Mangan - in times of defeat, resurgence and famine. It continues through a discussion of English Victorian poets such as Tennyson, Arnold and Hopkins, who wrote Irish poems as the British Empire unraveled. Campbell's treatment ends with Yeats, seeking a new poetry emerging from under union in times of violence and civil war. The book offers both a literary history of nineteenth-century Irish poetry and a way of reading it for scholars of Irish studies as well as Romantic and Victorian literature.
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Houseguest He still comes to stay, after all these years. The same
France Michaud's curator insight,
January 10, 2014 5:46 AM
j'aimerais entendre c'est belle aire d'amour
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Peter O’ Neill (1967) was born in Cork where he grew up before moving to live in France in the nineties. He returned to Dublin in 1998, where he has been living ever since.
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Ultrasound
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The estate dead as if some two-minute warning had been announced but then that’s the demeanour of most of these street scenes;
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In the first of a series of short interviews with some of our previous contributors, we welcome Patrick Chapman back to the Burning Bush 2 for a quick grilling. How long have you been writing? Abou...
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Nothing is as it seems in John W. Sexton’s fifth and most scintillating collection to date, The Offspring of the Moon. Through the alchemy of Sexton’s imagination, the everyday is transmuted into art. Among the people and creatures to be met in the collection is a sandman, a mermaid, several cats, a cloak of owls, William Blake’s vision of ghost fleas, the unintentional portents of a magician, Aladdin releasing Djinn from an egg over breakfast and an angel who lives on the tip of a pin in a house of golden thread. Questions of belief and imaginative freedom are approached from unlikely angles. From the man who brought us the cult RTE radio series The Ivory Tower, John W. Sexton continues to find significance in the marginal, the endangered, the apocryphal and the downright absurd.
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Interview: Aoife Byrne talks to poet Patrick Deeley, following the publication by Dedalus Press of Groundswell: New and Selected Poems.
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