The Deep Music of the World


The title of Michelle O’Sullivan’s This One High Field invokes a similar take on time. The poem from which it comes, “The Measure”, is buzzing with a sense of the moment, its individuality, opening: “Such stillness. And the mouth / of the ditch caught in moonlight.” The attention it demands is laced with wonder and curiosity, the brief lines are packed and jumpy with detail, and then they open out into a sense of a view as a whole: “air-stung trees on this one high field”. The single moment becomes the special place.

The complete article

Eiléan Ní Chuilleanáin — Dublin Review of Books

Image source

The Toad Work

It is innate in human to fantasize about past being better. That is why nostalgia is no longer a disease.

Back then, life along the Shannon, with plentiful supplies of fish, berries, elk, roots, fowl, deer, nuts, grubs and other goodies must have been quite pleasant. Even today on the marginal lands where some hunter-gatherers continue to live, life has been described by anthropologists as “leisurely”. Apparently it is common to sit in the shade beneath a tree listening to, or telling, some saga of adventure and only stirring oneself when conditions for hunting are optimal, in short an excellent work-life balance.

The complete article

Dublin Review of Books