Showing posts with label Patrick Kavanagh. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Patrick Kavanagh. Show all posts

Saturday, 19 May 2012

Patrick Kavangh and the Poetry of Place.

In many ways, Patrick Kavanagh is a quintessential Irish man, but it is his obsession with land, and the geography of place, that confirms his Irishness for me.
Consider some of the titles of his most famous poems, like 'Inniskeen Road...' and 'Shancoduff'. It seems that place is vitally important to him, that Kavanagh's imagination is inherently tied to his place of birth.  But isn't this typical of the Irish mentality?  Hasn't our entire economy been brought to its knees over a property crises caused by our national obsession with owning land?   And on a cultural level too so many of our best writers have equally been enthralled with an Irish sense of place - be it in story form, like James Joyce's 'Dubliners', or in verse, like W.B.Yeats's 'Lake Isle of Innisfree'.  Place is indeed at the forefront of our creative imaginations.

Yet, for Kavanagh, it seems especially so.  He finds a certain security in naming the landmarks and pin-pointing the exact locations of his imagined self as he muses on his themes.  Indeed it gives the reader a sense of comfort to know that 'Cassidy's hanging hill' ('A Christmas Childhood') is nearby or that 'A yellow sun reflects in Donaghmoyne', ('The Great Hunger').  It is as if Kavanagh's creative imagination has a built-in G.P.S. system that inspires and helps him to find his bearings.  And we the readers are glad of it too; it gives a solidity to his poetry that is sometimes elusive in that genre.

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One might be of the impression that Kavanagh is essentially a rural poet, associated only with the landscape of his beloved Monaghan.  However his 'Canal' poems put pay to that theory.  He was clearly inspired by the man-made water scheme in Dublin city and found much in that landscape to symbolise his sense of rebirth after his brush with death in 1958.  His poems, 'Canal Bank Walk' and 'Lines Written on a Seat on the Grand Canal, Dublin', are two poems that are deeply rooted in a sense of place, for it is the location of this little oasis in the midst of Dublin that so captures the poet's imagination.  He describes it as 'an unworn world... of fabulous green... pouring redemption for me'.  ('Canal Bank Walk').  So enraptured is he by its power that he asks, in a very Keatsian way, to be commemorated there when he dies: 'O commemorate me where there is water, Canal water...' (Lines Written on a Seat...').  And the good people of Dublin City Council listened and placed a life-sized statue of Kavanagh, sitting on a canal bank seat, just as he requested, beside the canal where he had been so inspired in life.  How fitting that a poet who was so intrinsically connected to a particular location in the city should be forever represented there in such a physical way.

And when considering Kavanagh, and his childlike attachment to place, we cannot fail to mention perhaps his most famous contribution to Irish culture: his lyric to the song, 'On Raglan Road'.  Immortalised by the carousing vocal of Luke Kelly, this song of lost love and opportunity names a street in Dublin where Kavanagh once lived.  The cyclical, repetitive melody of this traditional tune, 'The Dawning of the Day', has an intrinsically melancholic feel that echoes much of the atmosphere of Kavangh's poetry and so it is no mystery as to why he selected this particular air to lyricise.  The poet continues in the verse to add a second location, 'Grafton Street', which is in the heart of Dublin city and is a great hub of social life, close to where young people traditionally gather and where Kavanagh spent many a night drinking 'on the town'.  In a way, the poem could be called 'On Grafton Street', being as it is the more celebrated of the two Dublin streets, where it not for the the lack of euphony in the phrase that is obviously present in the preferred titled.  Still, it is entirely fitting that Kavanagh should be so remembered in the public imagination, for writing a lyric about an actual place, where a real street is immortalised. As such, the song is a true testament to the style of a poet, who was happily obsessed with his Irish identity and the geography, and poetry, of place.
By Michelle Burrowes  

Wednesday, 4 April 2012

Irish Superstitions and Lore ~ Kim Lenaghan

This is a very little book about Irish folklore and superstitions and should be all the better loved for that.  It is stuffed to the brim with ill omens and curses that could come in very handy if there was an annoying neighbour you wanted rid of, or a rich man you wanted as a husband, but you first needed to get rid of his persistent wife. Indeed, this pocket-sized book is a very useful for many reasons.
For example, did you realise that it is very unlucky to do any of the following: kill a robin redbreast; have a woman cut a boy's hair or first see a full moon, especially if through glass.  You can see the logic in some suspicions, but I wonder about the reasoning behind a woman not cutting a boy's hair: surely it was invented by a man who was scarred for life by memories of his mother's poor hairdressing skills?
Similarly, the warning about the full moon makes me smile: does 'glass' here refer to the bottom of an empty glass of Guinness I wonder?  I suppose, for the sake of sobriety, there were many such 'bad omens' concocted, particularly after a wild weekend of drinking and debauchery.  I imagine so. 

There are some good omens too in the book.  For example: it is very lucky for a hen and her chicks to stray into your house, or to meet a white lamb in the early morning with the sunlight on its face  There! Such encouragement for the man who gets himself out of the house and off to work early.  There is logic to the superstitions after all.  
But my favourite piece of lore is the way to predict 'Mr Right', which involved gathering snails at dawn on May Day and placing them on a dish of flour, and watching them spell the name of the man you should marry.  I imagine the smiles and giggles the accompanied this particular 'game' and wonder how many marriages followed as a result. 


This is an enjoyable book for those of us who are interested history and enjoy reading about the the folk traditions of the past.  One can only imagine the source of such superstitions, whether they be logic, sense or pure honest malice.  Still, it is easy to understand, going by this treasure trove of folk-myths, why the luck of the Irish is so renowned the world over and why, poet Patrick Kavanagh wrote:
'For this soul needs to be honoured with a new dress woven
From green and blue things and arguments that cannot be proven.' 
(from Canal Bank Walk, 1958).
.   By Michelle Burrowes