Ireland

Irish Pages: The Home Place

gita — Sat, 19 Feb 2011 20:00:00 +0000

Edited by Seán Mac Aindreasa, Chris Agee, Cathal Ó Searcaigh

Edited in Belfast, the biannual journal Irish Pages brings together writings from contemporary Ireland, across Europe, and around the globe. The journal self-describes as “non-partisan, non-sectarian, culturally ecumenical, and wholly independent.” American-born editor Chris Agee has lived in Ireland for more than thirty years, and Irish language editor Cathal Ó Searcaigh was raised in an Irish-speaking district of County Donegal, northwest Ireland.

In "The Home Place," the sixth volume of the journal, the editorial team has brought together an impressive assortment of selections from twenty-one writers, ranging from the reflections of an emigré returning home to an essay by filmmaker Mira Nair. I cannot readily think of another journal where I would encounter contemporary short stories translated from the Maltese along with a beautiful range of Irish poets. Of the short stories, my favorite was “Caillte i gConamara/Lost in Connemara” by Micheál Ó Conghaile, an intense tale of grief, prayer, and lovingly conveyed wild countryside.

As a child, I heard stories from my grandfather about teachers prohibiting the use of Irish in school in the 1930s. This affected me deeply, and when finally I visited Ireland, I rejoiced in the numerous bilingual signs and sought to learn as much Irish as possible. The preservation of languages excites me, and I am thrilled to see contemporary Irish/Gaeilge language writing published (with English translation) in Irish Pages.

Each volume of the journal includes a selection of photographs, and this one contains a portfolio from Frank Miller entitled “Bog Bodies.” These artful (yet, for me, a bit chilling) archaeological photos show the Iron Age bodies, circa 300 BCE, that were unearthed in 2003 and are now displayed at the National Museum of Ireland in Dublin.

While it is difficult to choose the most outstanding poems, the late Caitlín Maude penned my favorite line in the volume: “I crave the verse/that will set my soul straight.” For this line I am grateful to the editors, who lift up the writing of Irish authors, and to the translator Nuala Ní Chonchúir, for making this writing available to those of us who cannot read Gaeilge.

While this journal reignited my love of Irish, the publication transcends limitations of nation or tongue, and is well worth reading.

Written by: Lisa Rand, February 19th 2011

Irish Pages: The Sea

tina — Wed, 02 Feb 2011 00:00:00 +0000

Edited by Cathal Ó Searcaigh, Chris Agee

Nicholson and Bass

Also known as Duillí Éireann, Irish Pages is a bilingual, biannual journal edited in Belfast. The journal was started in 2002 with the mission of publishing “in equal measure, writing from Ireland and overseas.” Each issue is themed and "The Sea" is filled with a blend of literary journalism, nature-writing, memoir, short fiction, poetry, and other features like photography and notes from the publishing world. The journal succeeds at printing work that touches on both local (Ulster) and global issues, nourishing ecological awareness, and giving voice to both avante garde and traditional Irish ideas.

Although the website suggests that other issues have included more political or cultural writing than "The Sea," I noted slight nods to a feminist cause in the narratives and poetry chosen, and in the inclusion of one of the three featured essays by Croatian/Serbian writers. According to her byline, Slavenka Drakulic, a woman born in Croatia in 1949, has received threats for her feminist writing in the past. Her essay is about the changes in her ethnic and writing identities, and her concern for how a good portion of her work exists in a “vacuum” because the country she was born in has ceased to exist.

Although Irish poetry is sometimes discussed in reference to Yeats, Heaney, and Muldoon (and Irish Pages has published Paul Muldoon), I liked the balance of contemporary, archival, and Irish language poetry in this issue. Most of the poems were relatively short and beautifully resonant. My favorites included three Irish and English translated poems by Cathal Ó Searcaigh. “Morning Song” reads like an exquisite prayer, and the mist, furze, and quietness in “Mountain Trek” is wonderful.

Some writers received more space than others, but I approved of the inclusion of Aidan Carl Mathews’ essay and six poems. I especially liked the naked honesty and lush, strong words in his poem “Kyrie for a Counsellor.” Also, the poem “Doing Time” is an interesting look at the progression of time while Nelson Mandela was in prison.

"The Sea" gave a lot of attention to the island environment and a chapter from the last volume of a trilogy about Connemara, a peninsula off the western coast of Ireland, featured a lovely mix of memoir, folklore, and science.

Alongside the Celtic mythology in “The Kingdom of Manannan,” there was plenty of Irish Catholic imagery in the collection. Priests, altar boys, rosaries, and Mass books appear in several essays, poems, and stories, such as the short story “The Mourners” by Francis Harvey. It is a compelling read, as are the two sweetly honest poems by Leontia Flynn about her father and his passing.

The variety of the selections—from the introduction of a novel called The Truth Commissioner and the remarks delivered at the launch of “A History of the Town of Belfast,” to the eulogy of a man who did watercolors of Ireland’s thirty wild orchid species—shows a great deal of local pride, artistry, and care on behalf of the editors.

Also, the inclusion of a selection of stunning Marine Micrograph photography made this review a very pleasant experience. Particularly wonderful were the living Radiolarians, which are beautifully symmetric skeletal elements found in marine plankton, magnified and photographed in Golm, Germany. I also really enjoyed the magnified images of candy-bead-like Diatoms photographed in Mayaguez, Puerto Rico.

Based on my reading of this issue, I would highly recommend Irish Pages. With past issue themes like "The Media," "Empire," "The Earth Issue," and "The Home Place," I assume they are worthwhile reading for non-Irish readers. According to the website, the most recent issue is "The Irish Issue," and it includes more about Connemara by Tim Robinson, a few poem translations, and the rest is contemporary Irish writing, which might be worth learning a little Irish for.

Written by: Julie Ann, February 1st 2011

If You Like It Then You Should Be Able to Put A Ring On It

admin — Sat, 26 Jun 2010 16:01:00 +0000

Directed by Cara Holmes, Ciara Kennedy

Adorable, DIY-style animation and quirky music start off this excellent and important film about marriage equality in Ireland. Cara Holmes and Ciara Kennedy cut and paste stories, images, protests, and facts into a clever, witty, and purposeful narrative.

Voice-overs and interviews are illustrated and screened, intercut or overlaid upon footage from rallies, photo montages, and title cards (which have a very on-trend hand-drawn look). These touches make the film more accessible and adhere to the filmmakers’ established aesthetic. I really respect the directors’ decision to use this style–it actually underscores the gravity of the issue. It’s a very watchable, warm, and likeable documentary, and will have wide appeal.

Full disclosure: I met Cara when we were both booked at Ladyfest Berlin a few years ago, and her band wrote a song about my zine. A couple of years after that, we were both on the bill at Ladyfest Cork, which became the hen do before my UK civil partnership with my wife Sarah. Sarah and I actually staged a mock wedding as part of our comedy show at the festival, using vows rewritten to address the illegality of our marriage in Ireland. We met with MarriagEquality, who were tabling at Ladyfest, and took badges back for our friends to wear while preparing for our ceremony in the UK. We knew some bills were being proposed, and things were looking pretty good in Ireland at the time–like this issue was moving ahead.

When I saw If You Like It Then You Should Be Able To Put A Ring On It mentioned on a friend’s Facebook page, I immediately recognised Cara’s name and followed the link to the film. I felt really frustrated as I began watching; Ireland seems to have come no closer to legal and financial equality for queer couples who wish to marry.

Here’s a quote from one of the on-screen title sequences early on in the film:

In 2005, it was argued before the High Court that Katherine and Ann Louise had a constitutional right to equality: a right to marry, property rights, and family rights. They also argued that the failure to recognise their marriage breached their rights under the European Convention on Human Rights. To date their marriage is still not recognised. On Feb 23, 2007 the case was appealed to the Supreme Court. There is no known timeframe for the Supreme Court hearing.

If You Like It... goes on to introduce couples who’ve married elsewhere, shows footage from protests and rallies (including some awesome placards!), interviews representatives from several marriage rights organisations, and manages the difficult task of presenting different viewpoints (civil partnership as a stepping stone to full equality vs. ‘separate but equal’ compromise) toward a common purpose remarkably well. It also puts the campaign into the larger context of queer rights around the world generally, and provides links in the credits to the organisations and artists who contributed to the film.

The pace of the film is quite inspiring–it builds to a climax that offers hope to the queer community, and should galvanise new allies into action. In the end, I was heartened by both the message and its style of delivery.

The case mentioned above is still pending, and a civil partnership bill is working its way through the Irish government, but it’s a slow process. Major props to Holmes and Kennedy for helping speed things along with this outstanding short film.

Written by: Chella Quint, June 26th 2010

Ondine

admin — Fri, 07 May 2010 16:01:00 +0000

Directed by Neil Jordan

Magnolia Pictures

Ireland's coast with its cloudy allure and spectacular beauty provides a considerable level of mystic in Colin Farrell's latest film. Ondine tells the story of fisherman Syracuse (Farrell) after he catches a woman in his nets. She miraculously chokes and stammers back to consciousness to both her and his surprise. Her entrance into his life sets off a series of events altering their lives in unimaginable ways.

Syracuse's daughter, Annie, is convinced the woman (Ondine) is a Silkie, a mythical creature from the sea. Her enduring belief in the fantasy begins to affect both Syracuse and Ondine. The two begin a romance that adds to the dreamlike feeling of the story, until reality literally crashes in on them. It doesn't seem clear if everyone will live happily ever after or not.

Writer/Director Neil Jordan did an excellent job scouting the location for the film. From the opening scenes of the film the Irish landscape took on a character all its own. The green hills combined with the haunting look of the sea combine to create a feeling of enchantment.

References to various well-known fairytales were not subtle throughout the script. Mermaids, Snow White, and Alice and Wonderland were all mentioned to make sure the audience understands the fictitious premise of the film. Even the villain enters like a bogeyman with ominous music playing when we first see him.

I'm not convinced we need another fairytale-meets-real-life movie. Especially one that follows the formula of a woman being put in danger because of a man and then said woman is saved by a man. This type of plot line puts the title character into a passive role that depends on the actions of the male characters. Ondine continues to perpetuate the illusion that if a woman finds the right man everything will work out for the best.

Adding to the damsel in distress scenario, Ondine portrays a sexualized innocence. This is made clear in one scene when she is frightened while steering the boat. She hunkers down in a ball and reaches a bare leg for the steering wheel. We see Syracuse watching her from a camera angle aimed through her legs in an attempt to be sensual, but it left me feeling uncomfortable. Her fear was apparent, which doesn't seem like a great time to emphasize her sexual appeal.

A truly bright spot in the film is Annie. She suffers from kidney failure and is sometimes relegated to a wheelchair. Despite these setbacks, her spirit is full and strong making her the character to admire. She exhibits independence and curiosity that is often stifled in young girls. It is her tenacity that kept me interested in the progression of the film. Alison Barry, the young actress who played Annie, did an amazing job, especially considering this was her first film.

Although I'm not overly enthusiastic about the premise of the film, I do think it was well made. The setting and some of the performances keep Ondine from drowning. However, I recommend waiting for the DVD and watching the film when you are in the mood for fantasy.

Ondine recently premiered at the Tribeca Film Festival and will be out in limited release June 4th.

Written by: Andrea Hance, May 7th 2010

Yes, My Darling Daughter

admin — Tue, 22 Sep 2009 23:36:00 +0000

By Margaret Leroy

Farrar, Straus and Giroux

“Such a pretty girl. Four years old; well loved by her young mother, Grace. But there’s something...'off ' about the child.”

The above excerpt sets the scene for Margaret Leroy’s Yes, My Darling Daughter. Margaret Leroy offers a novel that is so original and suspenseful it pulls you in from the first page. The story involves Grace, a single mother who works full-time at a London flower shop, and Sylvie, her four-year-old daughter. Things become complicated and strange when Sylvie begins to display behavior that is out of her nature and involves mean-spirited actions at preschool and with friends. She begins to have tantrums, outbursts, and a strange fear of water. These sudden changes seems mysterious, and Sylvie's psychiatrists blame Grace.

Grace knows there's something happening to her daughter that can’t be explained and is beyond her control. To help understand Sylvie's trouble, she decides to seek help from Adam Winters, a university professor who has studied paranormal behavior. Adam has theories about what is happening to Sylvie that prompt the three to travel together to Cold Harbour in order to understand Sylvie’s connection to the area, particularly to the house she continuously draws thought she has never been near it.

Set in London and Ireland, Yes, My Darling Daughter provides a backdrop full of characters that are intriguing and moves along with a past life twist told by an uninvited character. Leroy’s words entice readers into a nonstop and exciting murder mystery. If you enjoy the idea of visits from the other side, this book will satisfy your paranormal appetite.

Written by: LaToya Rogers, September 22nd 2009

The Winter Sun: Notes on a Vocation

admin — Wed, 20 May 2009 10:46:00 +0000

By Fanny Howe

Graywolf Press

Fanny Howe’s ostensible concern in The Winter Sun: Notes on a Vocation is the origin and nature of her writing life. Poet, novelist, and essayist of distinction, Howe also engages her familiar themes of mysticism, art making, and social justice, as well as her familiar backdrops of Boston and Ireland, with her signature catholicity.

In the two anchoring essays of the collection, which is Howe’s second work of lyrical nonfiction, she explores the origins of her work through bits of straight autobiography (childhood and adolescence in “Branches,” adolescence and adulthood in “Person, Place, Time”) interwoven with meditations on the works and (often famous) friendships that have influenced her. These two lengthy essays are refreshingly offset by several brief pieces, including the terse, brilliant “America,” a meditation on social injustice and spirituality (two pages); the glitteringly weird “The Land of Dreams,” a meditation on Jesus (one-and-a-half pages); and the gorgeous “Evocation,” a tiny slice of memoir made more sensuous by its subtle, tannic bite (four pages).

A mid-length essay, "Waters Wide," brings us from narrative of Howe's history into her present tense and recent past, moving with an easy clarity through meditations on the natures of time and language, writing as work as prayer, and qualities of transreligeous experience. There is an intimacy in this piece that is often lacking in "Branches" and "Person, Place, Time" which have their strengths in reading as cultural and political histories as well as personal ones.

Throughout The Winter Sun, Howe employs a prose form that has drawn accurate comparisons to collage. While these essays are rich in content, readers new to Howe may find her idiom taxing in the collection’s two longest pieces, where her narrative can become so broadly associative as to suggest evasion. Fortunately, neophytes to Howe have her extensive canon from which to draw if __The Winter Sun_ proves a mixed first meeting, while veteran converts will likely find it a fluid addition to her body of work.

Written by: Kaja Katamay, May 20th 2009

Once

admin — Mon, 11 Jun 2007 02:52:00 +0000

Directed by John Carney

Fox Searchlight Pictures

Once is a dreamy film set against the green-grey hues of wintry Dublin and accompanied by the plaintive music of that city's residents. The film's deceptively simple story centers around one of Ireland's unnamed poetic denizens, billed just as "guy," and played by wide-eyed Frames frontman Glen Hansard. He is a busker who croons longing songs, accompanied by a broken guitar, standing alone with his muse on a fancy shopping thoroughfare. One day, he meets a Czech emigre, "girl" (played by Hansard's recent musical collaborator Markéta Irglová) and finds out that she, too, is a musician. She plays a piano in the back of a shop because she can't afford her own. Together, they finish writing some songs and then record them, and their sweet and intense process of music-making is the essence of Once.

Many of the movie's scenes are long, gorgeous sequences with no sound, but Hansard's songs in the background--making it a sort of musical, but one without characters bursting into spontaneous, plot-moving numbers. And it's not a love story in the most traditional sense, because both guy and girl are entangled adults without much room to be impulsive. And after all, falling for someone is not as simple and sunshiny as the Drew Barrmore-Hugh Grant stab at the same theme, Music and Lyrics, would have us believe. Unlike that high-budget film, Once has no contrived lovemaking, no dramatic fights and reconciliations, and no climactic concert-hall triumphs.

But the film and its gorgeously melancholy soundtrack are a far more satsifying ode to the deep intimacy that comes from partnership and the joy of creating something with someone who understands you. Our guy and girl's relationship is as much Lennon and McCartney as Romeo and Juliet.

Director and writer John Carney also gives us an honest look at the artists' life--through his characters' existences, we see the bittersweet consequences of forsaking conventional life to pursue art, and vice-versa. Once is a wispy cloud of a film that will please fans of music, Ireland and love.

Written by: Sarah Seltzer, June 10th 2007