Heaney’s Bog Poems

16 thoughts on “Heaney’s Bog Poems”

  1. I was lucky enough to attend a reading when North was first published. London. An extraordinary event. Read the Glob right after. Would it have been 1977? Anyway, all of it so memorable I can still hear Heaney’s quiet voice in the great hall, each word another complete world.

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  2. Thank-you very much for visiting my blog and for the follow. I have very much enjoyed reading a selection of your posts this afternoon and will be back for more.

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  3. Tim, my late father, who loved poetry, loathed Heaney. I, on the other hand, was a quiet fan. I met Heaney, many times, professionally, as a journalist and socially, when we were neighbours in Sandymount. I enjoyed the poems posted here, even if I was familiar with them but, in the context, I am sitting in a roof top garden in The Liberties and the clatter of birds is almost deafening, listening to Neil Young’s Harvest Moon and sipping a nice Spanish country red. Perfect, almost

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  4. Dermott, if you don’t mind my asking, what kind of poetry did your father enjoy? Literary battles are odd to me–someone throwing Spenser in the ring with Donne, as if you can’t possible enjoy both, etc. Sometimes I can’t tell if a dislike of Heaney is a suspicion that someone so popular can’t be any good, or a dislike for the assumed romanticism for the rural in his work. One constant in the comments & remarks on my Heaney posts, though, are people like you who knew him personally or professionally & found him to be a decent human being.

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  5. My father was a traditionalist, classic education etc. He could quote Shakespeare, plays and poems, off the cuff. He liked Yeats but he favoured Wordsworth, Keats, Tennyson, even Goldsmith. Milton was another favourite and old Gaelic poets, like Padraig O’Conaire and others, who were published anonymously. As regards Heaney, my father was from Southern Ireland but married a woman from Donegal and spent a lot of his life working near the border. He was familiar with the landscape and the language of Heaney and I felt he disliked Heaney’s work, unfairly, in my opinion, because he was trying too hard. He found his imagery laboured and overwrought .

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  6. Oh, I forgot to say he liked my poetry, too, even though I’ve never considered myself a poet and have written only 18 poems. I never showed them to him but my brother did. That’s when I learned of his feelings for Seamus Heaney. He called me and said I wrote better than Heaney

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  7. I really like Seamus Heaney, and know nothing of bogs, peat and exhumed bodies, being an Australian, out of Sydney. The bogs and revelations I am beginning to know are the unconscious mind, with its cheeky, clownish and unannounced appearances. But my unconscious loves Heaney too! Anyway, thanks for these. And thanks for following my blog at joeblakestopthinkingnow – I would follow yours but can’t find the button! Joe Blake

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  8. I dunno, the discomfort I think is necessary; I know SH was criticized for almost “mythologizing” the Troubles here, but it needs to be done. Even if the indivisible reader him/herself doesn’t “understand” the tribal violence, it’s worth pointing out that humanity as a whole certainly seems to. We’re always close to cruelty & chaos, & each new iteration of nationalism & its like these days only shows it more

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