Whether autobiographical, topical, or specifically literary, these writings circle the central preoccupying questions of Seamus Heaney's "How should a poet properly live and write? What is his relationship to be to his own voice, his own place, his literary heritage and the contemporary world?"
Along with a selection from the poet's three previous collections of prose ( Preoccupations, The Government of the Tongue , and The Redress of Poetry ), the present volume includes Heaney's finest lectures and a rich variety of pieces not previously collected in volume form, ranging from short newspaper articles to radio commentaries. In its soundings of a wide range of poets -- Irish and British, American and Eastern European, predecessors and contemporaries -- Finders Keepers is, as its title indicates, "an announcement of both excitement and possession."
Works of Irish poet Seamus Justin Heaney reflect landscape, culture, and political crises of his homeland and include the collections Wintering Out (1972) and Field Work (1979) as well as a translation of Beowulf (1999). He won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1995.
This writer and lecturer won this prize "for works of lyrical beauty and ethical depth, which exalt everyday miracles and the living past."
Finders keepers By Famous Seamus Ain’t no easy-peasy Fancy-schmancy Namby-pamby Slice and dice Cookbook Make no mistake It’s prose for those Know-it-all poets Who write all night For turtles and girls About rainbows and plain-glows Dark ceilings and feelings Starlings and darlings Tequilla mockingbird sunrises Some of this stuff’s a bit tough You gotta like Yeats and poor little Keats Gotta dig Auden right into autumn Gotta love Plath far better than math Gotta parse verse or worse Scan like nobody can Meter and feet or Be lost like a ghost Me I enjoyed it though I avoided One or two pieces (such is Ulysse’s Way with the essay) Take it of leave it Horses for courses What I adore might just make you snore And vice versa So without further ado See you later alligator
Again and again, I felt that I was sitting in a room with a brilliant friend discussing poetry, poets and poetics. The wonderful thing is that I can go back and savor his wise thoughts again and again through this fine book of essays. Many times I simply put the book down to think about, grasp and sometimes challenge his analyses. But, so often I was introduced to in a new way to poets, particularly contemporary Irish poets that I knew only in passing...having read a poem or two. Heaney makes it clear why they are important, what is most interesting in their work and why the reader should make an effort to find their body of work. That is the kind of delightful reading experience I try to search out...and sometimes find. Highly recommended.
I love Seamus Heaney and any discussions of his work. Especially impactful to me was a section regarding the rhythm of the words used being almost as important to the language and technicality of the poems themselves. This feeling of language as an animalistic thing that is rather inescapable to emotional understanding hit me deeply.
Seamus Heaney is almost as delightful in prose as he is in poetry, but to enjoy an essay - in most cases - you will need to have an interest and grasp of the subject. The opening biographical essays in which Heaney refers to his own upbringing, memories and poetry are superb. I also enjoyed his discussions on poets that I knew something about, but unfortunately many of his subjects I knew by name only and so couldn't appreciate properly his, no doubt, incisive criticism.
This is a collection of Seamus Heaney's prose writings culled from previous collections, speeches, and articles. It is a fascinating read which ended up with me coming out with a list of poets I need to read.
The subject of the collection is, of course, poetry and poets. Particularly the role of poetry, the impact of place on a poet - both geographically and historically - and how specific poets write and how that writing has changed.
Certain people crop up regularly - W B Yeats, Shakespeare (although there's no specific essay on Shakespeare, he's just a constant lodestone.)*, and Czesław Miłosz spring to mind - and their work and thoughts.
There is, of course, a lot of talk of identity and its relationship to the specifics of Heaney's own upbringing and history. The weight of the history of Ireland and Britain and the Northern Irish identity. That is a thread throughout this collection.
He writes excellent prose, which isn't unexpected. I had to reach for the dictionary a few times, but I don't begrudge that if the writing is clear. Which it is. This isn't an easy read, but it shouldn't have to be. Sometimes our brains need to be pushed outside their comfort zone.
Another Heaney book in my Heaney journey. I love his poetry. I like his humanism.
*I want to find out now whether he wrote specifically on Shakespeare.
Ok, jeg leste ikke alle essayene om irske forfattere jeg ikke har noe forhold til. Men det var svært mye annet å glede seg over, barndomsskildringer fra Nord-Irland og mer ordinære litterære essays. Mange fine beskrivelser og analyser av diktere og deres bøker, Bishop, Herbert, Lowell, Larkin og Plath.
One of the first books I ever listed as "currently reading" on here and eight years later... Ultimately, this is about Heaney's wealth of experience and reading, and his ability to read closely across years and texts. For Heaney, poetry is as serious as your life; this fact pours from every page.
Large parts were above my reading level, so were hard work. (Some sentences I genuinely couldn’t get sense out of. No doubt my fault.) But other parts were so helpful and insightful. Inspires a deeper love and respect for poetry.
This collection of essays from Seamus Heaney has taught me more about successful academic prose than any other single book, class, or instructor. Heaney's "word hoard" makes him as successful and skilled a prose writer as he is a poet, and this is worth picking up and reading simply for the beauty of the language.
And of course, this book is a must-have for anyone interested in Heaney's poetry, or poetry in general, for that matter.