Michael Longley has remarkable powers of reinvention. Certain themes remain constant - the natural world, war, violence, love, friendship, art, death - but they also keep changing because the forms and genres of his poetry never stand still. In "A Hundred Doors" a sinuous short line complements his variations on pentameter and hexameter. And Longley's interlacing of individual lyrics, so that a diverse collection seems a single poem, intensifies in the shadow of mortality. A sequence about his grandchildren's births is counterpointed by elegies, including Longley's continuing elegy for the Great War dead. The Mayo townland, Carrigskeewaun, with its cast of leverets, otters, swans, wrens, lesser twayblade and bird's-foot trefoil, also takes on fresh guises. Longley is among Europe's foremost 'ecological' poets. Yet Carrigskeewaun is ultimately symbolic, a microcosm, a 'soul-arena'. "A Hundred Doors" roams in time and space. The title-poem evokes the oldest Byzantine church in Our Lady of a Hundred Doors on the island of Paros. The remains of a Greek temple 'ache' beneath its floor. Wild orchids, which crop up in Greece and the Italian Garfagnana as well as Ireland, are among the collection's multiple 'doors'. Others are music and paintings, 'cloudberry jam from Lapland', a Shetland pony. This is work of power, precision and poems that 'bend and magnify the daylight', poems by a master craftsman.
Very vaguely an ode to Carrigskeewaun - some part of Ireland - but it didn’t do enough for me as nature poetry and didn’t really fully communicate anything else (though it tried). If i have to read the word hawthorn one more time….. Uses a rural British old man register that is a little odd though I did enjoy a verse about the author’s “sex bump” shrivelling and a pipistrelle’s “sex berries” neatly flopping. Some rly good silly one or two sentence WWII poems mixed in.
This poets subjects vary from the beautiful to the heartbreaking and everything in between. Particularly love the poems to his grandchildren.
The Leveret ... to the cottage where... you were conceived... have you been missing it?
Helen It is snowing. You want to go. Your ashes fall like snow. Now at last Those terrible numbers above your wrist Add up to you. Your ashes fall like snow.
I really enjoyed this collection. It makes me want to read more. I wish my Irish were better, so I knew how to pronounce some of the words, but the he is really good at packing a lot of meaning into very short poems. I’m not sure if this is the best of his work, but it didn’t make me want to go find more.
I really enjoyed the On Being interview with the author, but only a few of the poems stood out to me. Perhaps if I new what the flowers he lists looked like I might enjoy the poems that feature them so prominently. However I don't know a thing about Irish flowers so their names mean little to me and many of these poems seemed to be lists of flowers.
Longley writes about the hardships and beauty of getting old. He writes about losing friends, but also all the grandchildren he now has. Some of the language can be difficult, but it is still a nice, little collection.
The smallest flower, the songs of unseen birds, the birth of his grandchildren and the horror of World War I are all among the subjects of this evocative collection of poetry.
This is a reread. When I first read this I liked it, but to be honest only half-heartedly. This time around I loved it. This is a book you should reread over the course of a fee years, because I think these are poems that are better understood by old souls.
The poems here are beautiful, some now personal favourites. And they have this habit of being so evocative of so much in just a small space, and a few lines. It's really fantastic stuff, and now I can say I don't understand all of this, but I'll read it again in a while and I know I will find more to love.
If you love poetry you should get yourself a copy of this, and really treasure it.
This is my introduction to Longley, and I keep wondering, how did he become so famous? He has an ear for sounds and uses words that fill one's mouth. His meter and word choice are great, and I think his talent lies there, rather in the content of his poems. Content, he uses the same word in nearly every poem, making it less magical, less special. Carrigskeewaun. And they simply don't elevate. I wouldn't memorize any of these poems.
An engaging collection. The shorter pieces are superb - particularly those dedicated to his grandchildren. He has a gift for capturing a moment and sometimes a person. Unusually for a poetry collection, this is a fun read (profound, witty and sometimes light).
A superb set of beautifully lyrical poems. A friend recommended the collection, and I'm so pleased she did. If you haven't read his work, then start on this. Make sure as well that you read, Another Wren - not from this collection. John Eliot, author of Ssh
After the heavy bird-and-grandchild-based Poems at the starting third, the collection really serves to delight. Obviously he shows his loves and interests in his work, which is great.