Podcast appearances and mentions of Eavan Boland

Narrating Irish Female Development, 1916-2018 (Edinburgh UP, 2024) studies narratives of Irish female and feminized development, arguing that these postmodern  narratives present Irish female maturation as disordered and often deliberately disorderly. The first full-length study of the Irish female  coming of age story, the book develops a feminist psychoanalytic narratology, derived from the belated oedipalization of Joyce's bildungsheld, to read these stories. This study argues that all Irish maturation stories are shaped by the uneven and belated maturation story  of the Irish republic itself, which took as its avatar the Irish woman,  whose citizenship in that republic was unrealized, as indeed was her citizenship in an Irish republic of letters. Dougherty takes the writing  of Irish women as seriously as other critics have taken Joyce's work. Discusses texts by James Joyce, John McGahern, Hannah Lynch, Kate O'Brien, Lady Gregory, Maud Gonne, Mary Colum, Elizabeth Bowen, Edna O'Brien, Dervla Murphy, Clare Boylan, Nuala O'Faolain, Eavan Boland, Anne Enright, Claire Keegan, Eimear McBride, Éilís ní Dhuibhne, Melatu Uche Okorie, and Soula Emmanuel Examines the form, narration, and content of fictional, non-fictional, and national narratives Develops a feminist psychoanalytic narratology Synthesizes historical, sociojuridical, feminist, post-colonial, and literary historical narratives of Irish development Jane Elizabeth Dougherty is Professor in the School of Literature, Writing and Digital Humanities and affiliate faculty in the School of Africana and Multicultural Studies at Southern Illinois University Carbondale. Helen Penet is a lecturer in English and Irish Studies at Université de Lille (France). Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/psychoanalysis

Narrating Irish Female Development, 1916-2018 (Edinburgh UP, 2024) studies narratives of Irish female and feminized development, arguing that these postmodern  narratives present Irish female maturation as disordered and often deliberately disorderly. The first full-length study of the Irish female  coming of age story, the book develops a feminist psychoanalytic narratology, derived from the belated oedipalization of Joyce's bildungsheld, to read these stories. This study argues that all Irish maturation stories are shaped by the uneven and belated maturation story  of the Irish republic itself, which took as its avatar the Irish woman,  whose citizenship in that republic was unrealized, as indeed was her citizenship in an Irish republic of letters. Dougherty takes the writing  of Irish women as seriously as other critics have taken Joyce's work. Discusses texts by James Joyce, John McGahern, Hannah Lynch, Kate O'Brien, Lady Gregory, Maud Gonne, Mary Colum, Elizabeth Bowen, Edna O'Brien, Dervla Murphy, Clare Boylan, Nuala O'Faolain, Eavan Boland, Anne Enright, Claire Keegan, Eimear McBride, Éilís ní Dhuibhne, Melatu Uche Okorie, and Soula Emmanuel Examines the form, narration, and content of fictional, non-fictional, and national narratives Develops a feminist psychoanalytic narratology Synthesizes historical, sociojuridical, feminist, post-colonial, and literary historical narratives of Irish development Jane Elizabeth Dougherty is Professor in the School of Literature, Writing and Digital Humanities and affiliate faculty in the School of Africana and Multicultural Studies at Southern Illinois University Carbondale. Helen Penet is a lecturer in English and Irish Studies at Université de Lille (France). Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

Narrating Irish Female Development, 1916-2018 (Edinburgh UP, 2024) studies narratives of Irish female and feminized development, arguing that these postmodern  narratives present Irish female maturation as disordered and often deliberately disorderly. The first full-length study of the Irish female  coming of age story, the book develops a feminist psychoanalytic narratology, derived from the belated oedipalization of Joyce's bildungsheld, to read these stories. This study argues that all Irish maturation stories are shaped by the uneven and belated maturation story  of the Irish republic itself, which took as its avatar the Irish woman,  whose citizenship in that republic was unrealized, as indeed was her citizenship in an Irish republic of letters. Dougherty takes the writing  of Irish women as seriously as other critics have taken Joyce's work. Discusses texts by James Joyce, John McGahern, Hannah Lynch, Kate O'Brien, Lady Gregory, Maud Gonne, Mary Colum, Elizabeth Bowen, Edna O'Brien, Dervla Murphy, Clare Boylan, Nuala O'Faolain, Eavan Boland, Anne Enright, Claire Keegan, Eimear McBride, Éilís ní Dhuibhne, Melatu Uche Okorie, and Soula Emmanuel Examines the form, narration, and content of fictional, non-fictional, and national narratives Develops a feminist psychoanalytic narratology Synthesizes historical, sociojuridical, feminist, post-colonial, and literary historical narratives of Irish development Jane Elizabeth Dougherty is Professor in the School of Literature, Writing and Digital Humanities and affiliate faculty in the School of Africana and Multicultural Studies at Southern Illinois University Carbondale. Helen Penet is a lecturer in English and Irish Studies at Université de Lille (France). Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/gender-studies

Narrating Irish Female Development, 1916-2018 (Edinburgh UP, 2024) studies narratives of Irish female and feminized development, arguing that these postmodern  narratives present Irish female maturation as disordered and often deliberately disorderly. The first full-length study of the Irish female  coming of age story, the book develops a feminist psychoanalytic narratology, derived from the belated oedipalization of Joyce's bildungsheld, to read these stories. This study argues that all Irish maturation stories are shaped by the uneven and belated maturation story  of the Irish republic itself, which took as its avatar the Irish woman,  whose citizenship in that republic was unrealized, as indeed was her citizenship in an Irish republic of letters. Dougherty takes the writing  of Irish women as seriously as other critics have taken Joyce's work. Discusses texts by James Joyce, John McGahern, Hannah Lynch, Kate O'Brien, Lady Gregory, Maud Gonne, Mary Colum, Elizabeth Bowen, Edna O'Brien, Dervla Murphy, Clare Boylan, Nuala O'Faolain, Eavan Boland, Anne Enright, Claire Keegan, Eimear McBride, Éilís ní Dhuibhne, Melatu Uche Okorie, and Soula Emmanuel Examines the form, narration, and content of fictional, non-fictional, and national narratives Develops a feminist psychoanalytic narratology Synthesizes historical, sociojuridical, feminist, post-colonial, and literary historical narratives of Irish development Jane Elizabeth Dougherty is Professor in the School of Literature, Writing and Digital Humanities and affiliate faculty in the School of Africana and Multicultural Studies at Southern Illinois University Carbondale. Helen Penet is a lecturer in English and Irish Studies at Université de Lille (France). Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/literary-studies

Helen Shenton, Librarian and College Archivist at Trinity College Dublin, discusses the official renaming of the TCD Library as The Eavan Boland Library.

Doreen Duffy is a Creative Writer and Tutor, with an MA in Creative Writing from DCU, where she graduated with first class honours. She is a Pushcart nominated writer who has been widely published in journals including, Poetry Ireland Review 129 by Eavan Boland, The Storms Journal Issues 1, 3, and the soon to be released Issue 4,  Glisk & Glimmer from Sídhe Press, Black Bough Poetry Christmas/Winter 2022 & 2023, The Galway Review, Flash Fiction USA, The Woman's Way and The Irish Times. She won The Jonathan Swift Award, was presented with The Deirdre Purcell Cup at The Maria Edgeworth Literary Festival, and Shortlisted in The Francis MacManus Competition, with her story, ‘Tattoo' which was broadcast on RTE Radio One.

Last week, Trinity College announced that the main library in its city centre campus has been renamed after Irish poet Eavan Boland. It will be the first building on Trinity's grounds to be named after a woman. This week, in more good news for Irish female writers, the Mary Lavin Place will also be publicly unveiled in Wilton Park, in Dublin's south side. It's a public plaza to commemorate the famous writer who lived nearby on Lad Lane with her three daughters. In today's episode, Róisín Ingle is joined by Lavin's granddaughter Kathleen MacMahon to talk about the writer's extraordinary life and what this commemoration means to the family. We're also joined by historian, lecturer, and Director of Gender Studies at UCD Mary McAuliffe who campaigned in 2013 for the Rosie Hackett bridge to be named after the Irish revolutionary activist. McAuliffe explains why so few Irish streets or spaces are named after women and what can be done to change this. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Diarmuid Ferriter, historian.

During the week, TCD announced their plan to rename the main library in the college as the Eavan Boland library, in honour of the poet who died in 2020. Back in September 2016 she was a guest on this show and we spoke about her family background, her time spent living abroad and how she wove themes of everyday life into her remarkable body of work.

Host Hugh Linehan is joined by Pat Leahy and Cormac McQuinn to look back on the week in politics:· With the giveaway budget done, will this government conclude in time for an early general election? Timing is vital, but can the Coalition arrive at a consensus given their advanced preparation for an election campaign?· Sinn Féin's difficulties are the Government's opportunities with the Michael McMonagle scandal rumbling on, and now TD Patricia Ryan's resignation from the party after hitting out at its leadership for “not listening” to members and TDs.· US actor and activist Mark Ruffalo was heavily critical of the Green Party in a social media post pointing to the Government's planning legislation allowing for use of ‘strategic' liquefied natural gas reserves.Plus, the panellists pick their favourite IT reads of the week:· Miriam Lord's report from Mary O'Rourke's funeral on Monday.· Trinity's Berkeley Library is now the Eavan Boland library.· A twist in the Tory leadership race suits PM Keir Starmer. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Trinity College Dublin has officially renamed its former Berkeley Library after Irish poet Eavan Boland. Berkeley's name became contentious due to his colonial past, and so the Student Union led a campaign to rename it.Jenny Maguire is Student Union President of the Trinity College Dublin, and joins Kieran to discuss.Image: Trinity College Dublin

If you're studying the poetry of Eavan Boland for the Leaving Cert, this podcast is for you! English teacher Laura Daly joins us to give you ideas and in-depth analysis you can use in your poetry essays. Laura covers different aspects of Boland's poetry in this podcast and examines each of her poems on the syllabus in detail.  Leaving Cert English students will be doing a select number of poems so there are timecodes below for each section so you can skip to the ones you're studying.  ___________________________ And for more great Leaving Cert English content on Studyclix, check out our topic page on Eavan Boland:  https://www.studyclix.ie/leaving-certificate/english/higher/poetry-boland/study-this-topic   _____________________________ Timecodes: 00:00 - Intro & Background 1:57 - Poem 1: Child of Our Time 4:44 - Poem 2: The War Horse 8:01 - Poem 3: The Famine Road 11:30 - Poem 4: Love 14:50 - Poem 5: The Pomegranate  18:44 - Poem 6: This Moment 21:07 - Poem 7: Outside History 23:34 - Poem 8: The Black Lace Fan My Mother Gave Me 26:38 - Poem 9: The Shadow Doll 29:29 - Poem 10: White Hawthorn in the West of Ireland 32:29 - 33:00 - Conclusion _____________________________ As always, we love to hear from you. If you have any questions, comments or feedback, please get in touch by email at info@studyclix.ie. Alternatively, you can contact us via the chatbox on Studyclix.ie. You can also reach us through any of our social media channels.  ___________________________ Follow Studyclix on social media for updates, study tips, competitions, memes and more! Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram: @studyclix   Tiktok: @studyclix.ie Snapchat: study_clix

Our usual host, Sam Tongue, is back from paternity leave, and between feeds and nappy changes has recorded the latest episode of our regular Nothing But The Poem poetry podcast. Special thank you to Aoife Lyall for stepping in and producing 3 wonderful NBTP podcasts on Jane Clarke, Eavan Boland and Billy Collins. Much appreciated. Sam's subject this month is Nuala Watt, an emerging poet, whose work is increasingly recognised for its unique voice, formal daring, and fierce authenticity. Nuala Watt is partially sighted and her poems lead us through "the bureaucratic labyrinth of government assessment, the anxious joy of expecting a child and, with verve and originality, the realities of being a disabled parent". Fellow poet Alyson Hallett commented: "Sit down before you read these poems. Open the window. Open the door. There's a bolt of pure electric coming for you." My thoughts have arrived in the post. I don't know which ones. I think they may be cyclists in the dark. Sam took a deep dive into two poems from Nuala's debut poetry collection, The Department of Work and Pensions Assesses a Jade Fish, which has just been published by Blue Diode  Press. Find out what Sam - and the Friends Of The SPL group - got from these poems in our Nothing But The Poem podcast.

When we're gone from this Earth, what will we leave behind? What will we pass down to those who come after us?Plastic. If nothing else, lots of plastic. A plastic bag might take 20 years to break down, but harder, thicker plastics, like toothbrushes, might take 500 years or more to break down.Elizabeth Bradfield is a poet and naturalist who sees first hand, in her work as a marine educator, the ravaging impacts of plastic on marine life. But she also confronts plastic and our collective addiction to it as a subject of poetry.Her poem, “Plastic: A Personal History,” is what she calls a “cranky naturalist” poem, which is pretty funny, but embedded in the humor are big questions: how has plastic become part of who we are as individuals and as a species? Now that we know the dangers and devastating effects of plastic production and disposal, how must we change our relationship to this petrochemical product? What kind of world are we making, and what alternatives do we have?Elizabeth Bradfield is the author of five collections of poetry, including, most recently, Toward Antarctica. She co-edited the newly-released anthology, Cascadia Field Guide: Art, Ecology, Poetry. Her work has appeared in The New Yorker, Atlantic Monthly, Poetry, The Sun, and Orion, and her honors include the Audre Lorde Prize and a Stegner Fellowship. She teaches creative writing at Brandeis University and is founder and editor-in-chief of Broadsided Press. She lives on Cape Cod, where she also works as a naturalist and marine educator.This episode of Chrysalis is part of the Chrysalis Poets series. You can listen on Substack, Apple Podcasts, and other podcast platforms.Please rate, review, and share to help us spread the word!Elizabeth BradfieldBorn in Tacoma, Washington, Elizabeth Bradfield is the author of five collections of poetry, most recently Toward Antarctica, which uses haibun and her photographs to query the work of guiding tourists in Antarctica, and Theorem, a collaboration with artist Antonia Contro.Bradfield is also co-editor of the anthologies Cascadia Field Guide: Art, Ecology, Poetry, and Broadsided Press: Fifteen Years of Poetic/Artistic Collaboration, 2005-2020. A professor and co-director of Creative Writing at Brandeis University, Bradfield has received a great deal of recognition through awards and fellowships. Her work has appeared in The New Yorker, Atlantic Monthly, Poetry, The Sun, Orion, and her honors include the Audre Lorde Prize and a Stegner Fellowship. Based on Cape Cod, Liz also works as a naturalist, adding an engaging and proactive component to back up the prowess of her evocative literature. She also is the founder and editor-in-chief of Broadsided Press, a journal and grass-roots initiative that, through monthly publications, aims to expose the broader community (beyond academia) to relevant literature and art.“Plastic: A Personal History”By Elizabeth BradfieldHow can I find a way to praise it? Do the early inventors & embracers churn with regret? I don't think my parents —born in the swing toward ubiquity—chew & chew & chew on plastic. But of course they do. Bits in water, food-flesh, air. And their parents? I remember Dad mocking his mother's drawer of saved rubber bands and his father-in-law's red, corroded jerry can, patched and patched, never replaced for new, for never- rusting. Cash or plastic? Plastic. Even for gum. We hate the $5 minimum. Bills paperless, automatic, almost unreal. My toys were plastic, castle and circus train and yo-yo. Did my lunches ever get wrapped in waxed paper or was it all Saran, Saran, Saran? Sarah's mom was given, in Girl Scouts, a blue sheet of plastic to cut, sew, and trim with white piping into pouches for camping. Sarah has it still, brittle but useful. Merit badge for waterproofing. For everlasting. You, too, must have heard stories, now quaint as carriages, of first plastic, pre-plastic. Eras of glass, waxed cloth, and tin. Of shared syringes. All our grocery bags, growing up, were paper. Bottom hefted on forearm, top crunched into grab. We used them to line the kitchen garbage pail. Not that long ago, maybe a decade, I made purses for my sisters out of putty-colored, red-lettered plastic Safeway bags. I'd snag a stack each time I went, then fold and sew, quilt with bright thread, line with thrift store blouses. They were sturdy and beautiful. Rainproof and light. Clever. So clever. I regret them. And the plastic toothpicks, folders, shoes that seemed so cheap, so easy, so use-again and thus less wasteful, then. What did we do before to-go lids? Things must have just spilled and spilled. Do you know what I mean? I mean, what pearl forms around a grain of plastic in an oyster? Is it as beautiful? Would you wear it? Would you buy it for your daughter so she in turn could pass it down and pass it down and pass it down?Recommended Readings & MediaTranscriptIntroJohn FiegeWhen we're gone from this Earth, what will we leave behind? What will we pass down to those who come after us?Plastic. If nothing else, lots of plastic. A plastic bag might take 20 years to break down, but harder, thicker plastics, like toothbrushes, might take 500 years or more to break down.Elizabeth Bradfield is a poet and naturalist who sees first hand, in her work as a marine educator, the ravaging impacts of plastic on marine life. But she also confronts plastic and our collective addiction to it as a subject of poetry.Her poem, “Plastic: A Personal History,” is what she calls a “cranky naturalist” poem, which is pretty funny, but embedded in the humor are big questions: how has plastic become part of who we are as individuals and as a species? Now that we know the dangers and devastating effects of plastic production and disposal, how must we change our relationship to this petrochemical product? What kind of world are we making, and what alternatives do we have?I'm John Fiege, and this episode of Chrysalis is part of the Chrysalis Poets series.Elizabeth Bradfield is the author of five collections of poetry, including, most recently, Toward Antarctica. She co-edited the newly-released anthology, Cascadia Field Guide: Art, Ecology, Poetry. Her work has appeared in The New Yorker, Atlantic Monthly, Poetry, The Sun, and Orion, and her honors include the Audre Lorde Prize and a Stegner Fellowship. She teaches creative writing at Brandeis University and is founder and editor-in-chief of Broadsided Press. She lives on Cape Cod, where she also works as a naturalist and marine educator.Here is Elizabeth Bradfield reading her poem, “Plastic: A Personal History.”---PoemElizabeth Bradfield  “Plastic: A Personal History”How can I find a way to praise it? Do the early inventors & embracers churn with regret? I don't think my parents —born in the swing toward ubiquity—chew & chew & chew on plastic. But of course they do. Bits in water, food-flesh, air. And their parents? I remember Dad mocking his mother's drawer of saved rubber bands and his father-in-law's red, corroded jerry can, patched and patched, never replaced for new, for never- rusting. Cash or plastic? Plastic. Even for gum. We hate the $5 minimum. Bills paperless, automatic, almost unreal. My toys were plastic, castle and circus train and yo-yo. Did my lunches ever get wrapped in waxed paper or was it all Saran, Saran, Saran? Sarah's mom was given, in Girl Scouts, a blue sheet of plastic to cut, sew, and trim with white piping into pouches for camping. Sarah has it still, brittle but useful. Merit badge for waterproofing. For everlasting. You, too, must have heard stories, now quaint as carriages, of first plastic, pre-plastic. Eras of glass, waxed cloth, and tin. Of shared syringes. All our grocery bags, growing up, were paper. Bottom hefted on forearm, top crunched into grab. We used them to line the kitchen garbage pail. Not that long ago, maybe a decade, I made purses for my sisters out of putty-colored, red-lettered plastic Safeway bags. I'd snag a stack each time I went, then fold and sew, quilt with bright thread, line with thrift store blouses. They were sturdy and beautiful. Rainproof and light. Clever. So clever. I regret them. And the plastic toothpicks, folders, shoes that seemed so cheap, so easy, so use-again and thus less wasteful, then. What did we do before to-go lids? Things must have just spilled and spilled. Do you know what I mean? I mean, what pearl forms around a grain of plastic in an oyster? Is it as beautiful? Would you wear it? Would you buy it for your daughter so she in turn could pass it down and pass it down and pass it down?---ConversationJohn Fiege  Thank you, that's so beautiful. And there's so much going on there, in this poem.Elizabeth Bradfield  It's funny it started, this poem started kind of just, you know, as a bitter rant.John Fiege  Well, it didn't end there.Elizabeth Bradfield  No, it didn't end there.John Fiege  So, tell me about that. What's the bitter rant?Elizabeth Bradfield  Oh, just plastic. You know? Honestly, the poem started when my friend Sarah, you know, she's my age. I'm 50, 51. And she showed me this little bag her mom made and I started thinking, "Wow, imagine being the generation that discovered plastic, right? Wow, plastic, so handy," tupperware parties, all that stuff, right? And I mean, to be the generation that saw plastic come into use, I was just really thinking about that shift and, and that's where the poem started.John Fiege  So I want to just dive into to probably my favorite moment in the poem. So I'm gonna I'm gonna reread this one stanza. You too, must have heard stories now. quaintest carriages have first plastic, pre plastic eras of glass, wax cloth and tin of shared syringes. So that line of shared syringes hit me really hard. You know, prior to this, you mentioned rubber bands and credit cards, and Yo-Yos, and saran wrap, and Girl Scout pouches, all these kind of quaint objects of the past. But shared syringes is like this bomb you drop in the poem, you know, toys, and everyday items, the toils and frivolities of childhood all of a sudden become the life threatening addictions of the teenage years and young adulthood, a plastic addiction that may seem at first to make our lives better, while it slowly kills us. Can you talk about this moment in the poem, like, you know, where did this come from? Maybe, what's going on structurally here that gives this moment in the poem so much weight?Elizabeth Bradfield  Well, I think a couple of things, I was, you know, I did just want to imagine and put forth the ground truthing that we did have a world before plastic, right? What did we do? There were these things. And then I was thinking, I was thinking, all right, let's think about the advantages of plastic right of disposable syringes of, you know, the problems of disease being swapped out, the doctor comes to your house, or what you're a morphine addict, or whatever, in the Sherlock Holmes-ian kind of way with his glass syringe. But of course, you didn't throw any of that away, right? And so there is a benefit to plastic, right? There's a danger in this older world, as well as the danger in this present world, and so I wanted that pivot and that shift I didn't want this poem to be. I mean, gosh, you know, I think about what my life would have been like, as a queer woman in the era of wax cloth, and tin, it wouldn't have been so happy. So I was thinking of just the darker shadow of that nostalgia, I suppose. John Fiege  Yeah, I mean, it's so interesting to start with nostalgia. And then, I mean, this is the poetry of it. It's that single turn of phrase changes the color, and the tone of everything so quickly. Elizabeth Bradfield  Yeah and I really, you know, there's, I think, you know, how you write a poem. And for me, when I write a poem, it's a journey, right? It's an act of discovery. And a lot of the discovery for me in this poem was through sound, as well as through images. And for me, that rhyme of tin and syringes was a discovery, a linkage, and I think it was same as same as earlier in the poem, you know, plastic, even for gum that we hate the $5 minimum, and that gum minimum, right? These kind of resonances. They kind of they tickle me, you know what I mean? So there's like, the darkness and also the humor for me, and also the delight of sound and all of these things swirling around. John Fiege  Right. Well, you know, the other thing, you know, I got cancer 10 years ago, and, and almost died.  Yeah, it was horrendous, but I'm here. But, you know, I spent two years in treatment, and the number of disposable plastic objects that were discarded in front of me to care just for me, just blew my mind away. And at the same time, it saved my life, you know, and so when I get, you know, you talk about how you started this poem as a rant against plastic. And I find myself in that place frequently. But I guess I try to--I don't know, I guess I try to forgive our society, our humanity sometimes, to say, you know, people weren't trying to destroy the planet when they invented plastic. You know, they were trying to create this miraculous thing that would allow us not to cut down so many trees and, and grow so much cotton and, you know, do all these other things that felt like the limits of the natural world.Elizabeth Bradfield  Oh, I'm so sorry. Not kill so many whales, right? I mean, that used a pre-plastic material. John Fiege  Exactly. So, you know, I try to remind myself of that. And, you know, you could talk about syringes in kind of a life saving positive way. But you can also talk about them as shared syringes. Which, you know, immediately brings to mind of course, you know, heroin epidemic, and things like that, that have just taken so many lives. So I don't know how, when you were in the midst of the journey for this poem, what were you--how are you weighing those things of the ranch versus kind of checking yourself about nostalgia or other things?Elizabeth Bradfield  I think what I love about poems is the ability to hold contradiction, you know? And I, you said, check yourself, and I do try and check myself, I try and think in poems, you know, how am I culpable in this moment? You know, I'm not removed from it. And so I wanted, I wanted those layers of complexity to be in the poem. And I think, you know, it's funny, I wrote this poem, the first draft of it, before the pandemic. I think the first draft was in 2017. And of course, during the pandemic, I've thought only more and more and more about plastic and the way that we've turned toward disposables in order to, you know, prevent contagion and contamination and spreading of disease, through our face masks, or even to-go containers. But I think what I really--what angers me about plastic in our lives, is how thoughtlessly it can enter, right? And I think I wanted a poem that used a little bit of humor, to possibly suggest that we can think twice about some of these things, right? Especially a yo-yo. There are still wooden yo-yos out there, right, there's still, there are glasses that we can use instead of plastic cups, we can--all of these things that we can do. And it's not convenient. And so we don't. And so I thought if I could just play a little and be a little funny, and a little snarky, but also kind of acknowledge these darknesses, that might be a way to just shine a little light.John Fiege  Yeah, definitely. Yeah, and what I was saying before about, you know, being understanding of, you know, how we didn't really know how bad plastic was when it was invented. But the other side of that coin is--Elizabeth Bradfield  But now we do.John Fiege  And we're still not doing anything about it. Right? And that's where the, like, the real culpability starts to come of like, you know, what are you doing about it?Elizabeth Bradfield  Yeah. Are you going to buy another fleece, is that recycled wood porch really a good thing? You know, the recycled wood?John Fiege  Yeah, well, it's got that word recycled in it. Elizabeth Bradfield  Oh, absolutely everything is recycled.John Fiege  Well, let me let me reread another stanza. So this is in the middle. Not that long ago, maybe a decade, I made purses for my sisters out of putty colored red lettered plastic Safeway bags, I had snag a stack each time I went. Then fold and sew quilt with bright thread line with thrift store blouses. They were sturdy and beautiful. rain proof and light, clever, so clever. I regret them. So there again, that last line is so cutting, "I regret them." You set us up to see your kind of crafty upcycled purses, as, you know, practical, durable, ecologically responsible. But then you regret them. So I have questions about that. So I see the complicated relationship we have to plastic in this in this section of the poem: It's incredibly durable and malleable and useful, and in some ways, it can allow us to reduce our use of other resources. But there's this dark underside, again, like we were talking about before, to this durability and persistence in the environment, specifically. So maybe you regret stealing a bunch of Safeway bags so you weren't actually upcycling but I was hoping you could just talk a little bit about you know, what do you regret?Elizabeth Bradfield  Yeah, I mean, I think to what you were speaking about before when you read that other stanza, too, in terms of form, for folks who haven't seen this poem, there's a there's a dropped line here, right? "Clever, so clever." And then a little bit of space and the next line, "I regret them," drops down, a continuation, but a break. And I wanted that break, you know, that pause and I wanted to allow the poem to be caught up in that kind of delight and joy of making, you know, I was totally broke, I wanted to make something pretty for my sisters. I felt like I was, yeah, upcycling, I suppose, I'm not sure the word existed then, it probably did. But yeah, make something new, free from what was at hand, and I love doing things like that. And I was kind of, you know, a little, a little in love with myself for coming up with this awesome plan. And pulling one over on Safeway.John Fiege  Free bags, I'll take some!Elizabeth Bradfield  And they were really cute little purses. I'm not a purse kind of person. I wonder if they still have them? I have no idea. But of course, now looking back, I'm like, "Oh my God. That's what I regret," that I would even think of this as a gift to give to, to spend all that time with that plastic, making this thing for my sisters, who I love. What an idiot, you know. And I was just, I was so blind to that at the moment. I was just in love with the making. And, you know, 10 years ago, we knew plastic was bad. But it just it wasn't, I don't know, the alarm bells were not as heightened. I was living at the time in Alaska. And we hardly had recycling. Paper recycling, no. Plastic recycling, no, you know, so even to that extra use adds another another layer, right? But yeah, I was living in a place where even, ostensibly, there was no recycling happening.John Fiege  So, you know, you can pay a lot of money right now to buy a fleece that's made from recycled plastic bags. And that is marketed as better than creating new plastic. I can't do the math about you know what the waste is in one direction or the other. But it seems on the surface like "Yeah, that's better. If you're going to have a fleece jacket, that's better." Elizabeth Bradfield  Oh, no. John Fiege  Not at all. You don't even think the recycled fleece is better?Elizabeth Bradfield  No, because, okay, wear wool. But also, those fleeces, when you wash them, the microfibers come out, and they go out through your gray water. And they go through if you, you know, if you're on a septic system, they just go right in, if you're on a sewer system, even they escape out, and they go out into the ocean. So I mean, I work on these, I work as a Marine educator and I work you know, help out with some field work with some whales and I work on the local WhaleWatch boats here as a naturalist and I always tell people like, one thing you can do to help save whales is do less laundry, all the stuff that we wash, it all goes out. And so, no, the recycled bottle into a fleece is, I believe, not good.John Fiege  Okay, so the better thing is to take that plastic and contain it and never let it release into a water source again.Elizabeth Bradfield  I think so.John Fiege  And find completely different alternative natural fibers to use.Elizabeth Bradfield  Yeah, and I mean, we don't need we don't need plastic bottles. We don't need plastic trash liners. I still use a paper liner in my kitchen. You know what I mean? I I don't use shampoo, I use bar soap. I mean, now we're getting to this, like, what do you reduce your plastic footprint? Because there's plenty of plastic in my life. I mean, right here I am on a computer. My headphones that are plastic are plugged into my ears. You know, I'm not a purist in that way. But I do try and think, is there an alternative?John Fiege  Well, it's interesting too, because you know, things like upcycling, that's such a hip thing right now. And if you if you look at a lot of the eco fashion kind of world, that kind of all the rage. It's not just about the source of the of the materials, it's about the end destination of the materials. Elizabeth Bradfield  Yeah. John Fiege  Let's jump to the last stanza. Elizabeth Bradfield  Sure. John Fiege  Do you know what I mean? I mean, what pearl forms around a grain of plastic and an oyster. Is it as beautiful, would you wear it? Would you buy it for your daughter? So she in turn could pass it down and pass it down and pass it down. So you end the poem by expanding these questions of our relationship to plastic to questions of time and value and beauty. And finally, you end with the question of what, you know, specifically with a question of: what would you pass down to your daughter? And thinking on that generational level, we pass down fair family heirlooms, or wealth or knowledge or traditions. But we can also pass down ecological devastation, social pathologies, inequalities, a planet polluted by so much plastic junk, and maybe junk disguised as a pearl, that appears to hold meaning, importance, value and beauty. But really, it's rotten or toxic or plastic at its core. So what's going on here at the end, for you?Elizabeth Bradfield  I mean, I think for me, that ending is very ironic, because we are passing this down, right? We are passing this down to the generations that follow us. And would that pearl be as beautiful? Probably, if you didn't know what was inside of it. How, you know, how important is it for us to drill down and really examine what we're holding? And what's inside of it? And to really question what's at the heart of what we're carrying? To me, that's a really, really important question.John Fiege  Right. Right. So how does this poem fit into the broader context of your work and your life? And in you know, are there any other, kind of, stories around this poem, specifically, that you think are interesting? Elizabeth Bradfield  Well, I kind of consider this poem as a sub-genre of nature poetry, which I call the cranky naturalist poem that I find myself writing quite a bit of, I think there's a lot of poems in, especially my book, once removed, that fall into the cranky naturalist genre. And I mean, I think I write them because I do get cranky. But also, I think they're a little bit funny. And things are so bad that I have to laugh. You know what I mean? I have to laugh, I hope someone else has to laugh too. Because if we're not laughing, then we're turning away. You know, and laughter is a way of engaging, it's a way of being. So I like putting on that posture of the cranky naturalist. And yeah, I do, I work as a naturalist. I work mostly with marine mammals with marine ecology. And so I divide my life between books and boats, basically. And both of those things really feed me and I think a lot about the world that a seal or a whale is swimming through. And the urban ocean, that most of us know, most of us who live on the coasts, whether you're on the East Coast, I live on Cape Cod, or the West Coast, or, you know, the UK, South Africa, Australia, wherever. All of these coasts are very urban coasts. And we, the ocean has been thought of for so long as something that's, you know, "too big to fail." But we're seeing some failures. And it's really concerning to me. So I think a lot about the ocean, which I love so much, you know, that I find inspiration and solace in and has a very complicated human history. Also a really complicated ecological history that we hardly even understand. You know, I mean, we don't even know how long really, humpback whales live. There are so many mysteries out there, and, and we're changing the ocean pretty rapidly. So a lot of my time and thought goes into thinking about ocean ecology, marine ecology.John Fiege  And in reality, the oceans are too big to ignore, which is exactly what we do. You know? Yeah. Human history is a history of dumping our waste into a water source, whether that's a river or an ocean, or some other place where it seems to our to our eyes to disappear.Elizabeth Bradfield  Yeah. And in all honesty, we're all downstream. Right? Exactly. I mean, some people more immediately than others.John Fiege  There's no, there's no stream on a sphere.Elizabeth Bradfield  That's right. Yeah. So yeah, so In terms of my writing, I read a lot about, there's a little ocean in here, not a ton. But I read a lot about the fulcrum between our social selves and our animal selves, you know, or the other more than human beings that are out there in the world. And I find that a really interesting, sometimes funny, sometimes heartbreaking, sometimes inspiring, and complicated set of dynamics.John Fiege  And you know, if you're going to start a podcast, eventually you're going to have to call it "The Cranky Naturalist."Elizabeth Bradfield  My friend Melissa and I, she's a naturalist also. But we had a joke that we should start a podcast called "Wait, wait, don't touch that." All the things that you shouldn't be doing that the naturalist would like, you know, tisk tisk you for doing. Um, number one would be those those recycled fleece sweatshirts.John Fiege  Wow, I don't buy those recycled fleece sweatshirts, but I've at least given them the benefit of the doubt that it's better than the alternative. But you, you're right, you're totally right. So, right now, there's so much activism going on around our use of plastic and the ridiculous ubiquity of plastic pollution, single use plastic wasteful packaging, microplastics in the bodies of fish and every other living thing in the ocean. How do you see poetry or other forms of art, in relationship to the activist project of understanding and bringing attention to huge problems like plastic pollution,Elizabeth Bradfield  I think what I love about poetry, in addition to so many other things, is that it's really a form that asks us to occupy both the mind and the heart, right, the intellect and the emotion. And that's what we need to do to move forward and make any kind of progress. Thinking isn't enough, we also have to feel, and to help people connect and care. And so I think, if we can write things that keep these conversations alive, and stop us from just numbing over to the things we know, like we know plastic is bad. But if there's--I was at this show the other day, at the Center for Coastal Studies, which is a research and education nonprofit, on Cape Cod and Provincetown. And there was an art show that had a lot of marine debris-inspired of work in it. And one of the one of the images that was so striking to me, I can't remember the name of the artist, but it was a photographer, and she had collected, you know, tennis balls on the beach, which you find so many of and she set them up in this grid and photographed them in this sterile, pristine way. And they were so beautiful, and so strange and made me look at them differently and think about them differently. And I think that is what I think art and poetry can do to just wake us up and make us consider, slow down a little bit of time, hold a little bit of space, and allow us to feel and not just be numbed out by all this information. John Fiege  Right. Yeah, and, you know, ice core data, and, and, you know, carbon dioxide level changes over the last couple of decades, you know, that stuff's really important, but it doesn't, it doesn't make you feel in a direct way. I mean, maybe it has an indirect way of making you feel if you have enough background knowledge about what it means and you can translate it in your own head. But also, I think, besides the feeling is, kind of, a there's a pragmatic side to art, too. You know, you have a poetry reading, and you invite people and they come and it's fun. And you get to hang out with people, you know, you're not gonna, you're not gonna read your ice core data to people in a room unless you're at a scientific conference, at a glaciology conference, you know? So it, I mean, for me, also just in this on this very pragmatic level, and just allows us to keep the conversation going, in forms that people are more comfortable with, more excited about, are kind of a positive, beautiful, kind of beneficial side of their experience, rather than something that seems dull and grueling and opaque.Elizabeth Bradfield  No, absolutely. I think the energy of a rant or a cranky naturalist poem, for me can be a lot of fun and can be a way to vent frustration and rage that that is really necessary, and then hopefully move on, pick up and move on. Right, I think we look for art not just to help us explore the more difficult realities of our world, but also find energy, solace, inspiration to move on, you know, maybe do something a little bit differently to, to not just sink into despair.John Fiege  Yeah. Yeah.Elizabeth Bradfield  I think that's really important to me, that poems are part of our greater public discourse. And I think, you know, what you're doing with your podcast is doing that, our conversation is about that also. And, you know, it's not it's not an elite, isolated form, right? Poems want to connect. And they can, and, I welcome every little moment where I see that happening in the world. John Fiege  Awesome. Yeah, I, I have Irish heritage, although I've never been to Ireland. Although I've never been to Ireland, and I'm completely disconnected from the culture and place in a direct way. But, you know, I've heard that, to this day poets are, like, huge celebrities in Ireland, like, every town has their, like, you know, poet laureate, essentially. And it's such a big deal culturally. And then I think about America and how all of our superstars are, you know, from Hollywood or, you know, or like sports or, you know, business moguls. And sometimes ask myself, how would our society be different if the poets were the superstars here?Elizabeth Bradfield  I don't know. I think in some circles they are, you know, I was lucky enough to be able to study with the poet Eavan Boland, who's Irish, when I was at Stanford, and I'll never forget her telling us a story of Aer Lingus that the airline for Ireland. They were redesigning their interior cabin and they, I don't know, this kind of cracks me up. But they took one of her poems and wove it into the seat embroidery. And so I just think about all of those people sitting on Eavan Boland's words. And it's kind of gross, and kind of, like, farting into it and all the things that you do on an airplane. But it's also kind of amazing and wonderful that they would want poetry as part of this journey into the sky, too, you know? So yeah, so I wonder the same thing.John Fiege  Great. Well, can can you end by reading the poem once again?Elizabeth Bradfield  I'd be happy to. ---PoemElizabeth Bradfield  “Plastic: A Personal History”How can I find a way to praise it? Do the early inventors & embracers churn with regret? I don't think my parents —born in the swing toward ubiquity—chew & chew & chew on plastic. But of course they do. Bits in water, food-flesh, air. And their parents? I remember Dad mocking his mother's drawer of saved rubber bands and his father-in-law's red, corroded jerry can, patched and patched, never replaced for new, for never- rusting. Cash or plastic? Plastic. Even for gum. We hate the $5 minimum. Bills paperless, automatic, almost unreal. My toys were plastic, castle and circus train and yo-yo. Did my lunches ever get wrapped in waxed paper or was it all Saran, Saran, Saran? Sarah's mom was given, in Girl Scouts, a blue sheet of plastic to cut, sew, and trim with white piping into pouches for camping. Sarah has it still, brittle but useful. Merit badge for waterproofing. For everlasting. You, too, must have heard stories, now quaint as carriages, of first plastic, pre-plastic. Eras of glass, waxed cloth, and tin. Of shared syringes. All our grocery bags, growing up, were paper. Bottom hefted on forearm, top crunched into grab. We used them to line the kitchen garbage pail. Not that long ago, maybe a decade, I made purses for my sisters out of putty-colored, red-lettered plastic Safeway bags. I'd snag a stack each time I went, then fold and sew, quilt with bright thread, line with thrift store blouses. They were sturdy and beautiful. Rainproof and light. Clever. So clever. I regret them. And the plastic toothpicks, folders, shoes that seemed so cheap, so easy, so use-again and thus less wasteful, then. What did we do before to-go lids? Things must have just spilled and spilled. Do you know what I mean? I mean, what pearl forms around a grain of plastic in an oyster? Is it as beautiful? Would you wear it? Would you buy it for your daughter so she in turn could pass it down and pass it down and pass it down?---ConversationJohn Fiege  Beautiful. Liz, thank you so much for joining me today. It's been great.Elizabeth Bradfield  Thank you for having me. I really, really appreciated this conversation and really enjoyed it, John.---OutroJohn Fiege Thank you so much to Elizabeth Bradfield. Go to our website at ChrysalisPodcast.org, where you can read her poem “Plastic: A Personal History,” see some photographs of her at work as a naturalist and marine educator, and find our book and media recommendations.This episode was researched and edited by Brodie Mutschler, with additional editing by Sofia Chang. Music is by Daniel Rodriguez Vivas. Mixing is by Morgan Honaker.If you enjoyed my conversation with Elizabeth, please rate and review us on your favorite podcast platform. Contact me anytime at ChrysalisPodcast.org, where you can also support the project, subscribe to our newsletter, and join the conversation. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.chrysalispodcast.org

Eavan Boland is the latest subject of the Nothing But The Poem podcast. With our regular podcast host Sam Tongue on paternity leave this edition has Bloodaxe poet Aoife Lyall taking an immersive look into two of Eavan Boland's poems, which were discussed at the online monthly meet-up of the Nothing But The Poem group. Eavan Boland is one of the central figures of modern Irish poetry, a poet who, according to her publishers Carcanet, "came to be known for her exquisite ability to weave myth, history, and the life of an ordinary woman into mesmerising poetry." Elaine Feinstein, writing in the Poetry Review, said: "Boland is one of the finest and boldest poets of the last half-century." Iain Crichton Smith wrote: "She has the equipment of the true poet, that is to say an image-making faculty, a true devoted eye and an ear for rhythm." The two poems discussed in this podcast are The Poets from New Territory (Allen Figgis, 1967) and Moths from In A Time Of Violence (Carcanet, 1994).

We're trying to keep it light first thing this week with some top style trends - we're not on board with all of them but that's no reason why you shouldn't be!Our TV chat this week revolves around two very different items - Lindsay Lohan's Netflix film, An Irish Wish and a new documentary on their You Are Not Alone: Fighting The Wolf Pack - a story of sexual assault.Our fox this week is Irish poet Eavan Boland and Kelly reads a couple of her very beautiful poems to celebrate this St.Patrick's Day.Nicola regales us with the top Irish websites and there may be a few surprises in there.Finally we talk about the Irish artists who are boycotting SXSW this year owing to their partnership with the US military and weapons companies.Thanks for listening. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Diventa un supporter di questo podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/il-posto-delle-parole--1487855/support.Andrea Sirotti"La mia lettera al mondo"Emily DickinsonInterno Poesiawww.internopoesialibri.comL'amata e universalmente riconosciuta Emily Dickinson pubblicata in un'edizione che riunisce il meglio della vasta produzione poetica della celebre poetessa americana. La mia lettera al mondo, antologia con testi a fronte tradotti e curati da Andrea Sirotti, offre uno sguardo inedito sulla scrittura e i grandi temi dickinsoniani: l'amore, la morte, il silenzio, la natura, l'altro, l'America, il mondo letterario. Come osserva lo stesso Sirotti nella prefazione, tale inedita traduzione “aspira a farsi portatrice di una fedeltà, ma non al significato e nemmeno alla forma, quanto piuttosto all'assertività e all'autorevolezza di una voce poetica unica”.This is my letter to the WorldThat never wrote to Me –The simple News that Nature told –With tender MajestyHer Message is committedTo Hands I cannot see –For love of Her – Sweet – countrymen –Judge tenderly – of Me–Questa è la mia lettera al mondoche non ha mai scritto a me –le semplici notizie dalla natura dette –con tenera maestàIl suo messaggio è affidatoa mani per me invisibili –per amore suo – dolci compatrioti –teneramente giudicate – meAndrea Sirotti, anglista e postcolonialista, ha tradotto e curato per diversi editori antologie e raccolte poetiche di autrici come Emily Dickinson, Margaret Atwood, Carol Ann Duffy, Eavan Boland, Alexis Wright e Arundhathi Subramaniam. Insieme a Shaul Bassi ha curato Gli studi postcoloniali. Un'introduzione, Le Lettere, Firenze 2010. Per Einaudi ha tradotto testi narrativi di Lloyd Jones, Ginu Kamani, Hisham Matar, Hari Kunzru, Aatish Taseer e Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Ian McGuire.IL POSTO DELLE PAROLEascoltare fa pensarewww.ilpostodelleparole.it

An episode from 1/31/24: Tonight, as a companion to last episode of poems on being a child, I read a handful of poems about being a parent: “Morning Song,” by Sylvia Plath (1932-1963) “Child Crying Out,” by Louise Glück (1943-2023) “First Snow” read by Louise Glück (audio from here) “This Be the Verse,” by Philip Larkin (1922-1985) “Lucinda Matlock,” by Edgar Lee Masters (1868-1950) “On My First Sonne” (Epigrammes XLV), by Ben Jonson (1572-1637) “The Pomegranate,” by Eavan Boland (1944-2020) “Surprized by joy – impatient as the wind,” by William Wordsworth (1770-1850) “Eden Rock,” by Charles Causley (1924-2007) “My Young Mother,” by Jane Cooper (1924-2007) “Waiting,” by William Carlos Williams (1883-1963) from King Lear, by William Shakespeare (1564-1616) “Life after Death,” by Ted Hughes (1930-1998) You can support Human Voices Wake Us here, or by ordering any of my books: Notes from the Grid, To the House of the Sun, The Lonely Young & the Lonely Old, and Bone Antler Stone. Email me at humanvoiceswakeus1@gmail.com. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/humanvoiceswakeus/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/humanvoiceswakeus/support

An episode from 1/19/24: Tonight, I read a handful of poems about childhood. How does poetry capture our earliest memories, and how can it express the act of remembering itself, of nostalgia? The poems are: The Pennycandystore Beyond the El, by Lawrence Ferlinghetti (1919-2021) "Other echoes/Inhabit the garden," from Burnt Norton, by T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) Squarings #40, by Seamus Heaney (1939-2013) A Map of the Western Part of the County of Essex in England, by Denise Levertov (1923-1997) Those Winter Sundays, by Robert Hayden (1913-1980) Learning to Read, by Laurie Sheck (1953-) My Papa's Waltz, by Theodore Roethke (1908-1963) The Latin Lesson, by Eavan Boland (1944-2020) Fern Hill, by Dylan Thomas (1914-1953) The Leaving, by Brigit Pegeen Kelly (1951-2016) The Month of June: 13 1/2, by Sharon Olds (1942-) Autumn Begins in Martins Ferry, Ohio, by James Wright (1927-1980) "I'm ceded" (#508), by Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) Soap Suds, by Louis MacNeice (1907-1963) You can support Human Voices Wake Us here, or by ordering any of my books: Notes from the Grid, To the House of the Sun, The Lonely Young & the Lonely Old, and Bone Antler Stone. Email me at humanvoiceswakeus1@gmail.com. --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/humanvoiceswakeus/message Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/humanvoiceswakeus/support

Daan Doesborgh gaat in gesprek met Erwin Hurenkamp over Eavan Boland, vertaalproblemen en dat het met het klimaat en de aarde allemaal wel goed komt, alleen niet met ons, en dat is vrolijk en geruststellend. Ik heb in hoeken en gaten gezocht naar het artikel over wat er met alles gebeurt als de mensheid verdwijnt en het niet gevonden, en ook zou ik werkelijk niet weten welk boek van Vonnegut het zou kunnen zijn dat ik gelezen heb en dat zich in een overwoekerd New York afspeelt, dus als iemand zich geroepen voelt om een van deze twee teksten te schrijven, ga je gang.

In 2014 Poetry Ireland and the Peacock Theatre hosted a very special event, Eavan Boland in conversation with Paula Meehan to celebrate Eavan's 70th birthday

Irish poet Nessa O'Mahony reads her poem "Cillín," published in NER 44.2, followed by an interview with summer interns Cali Jantzen and Gavin Richards. Their discussion traverses the “hidden histories” of Ireland, the politics of memory, and the role of poetry in reckoning with the past. The poem appears in NER's special feature "The Door Left Wide: Poets in Tribute to Eavan Boland."

Diane Mehta joins Kevin Young to read “The Lost Art of Letter Writing,” by Eavan Boland, and her own poem “Landscape with Double Bow.” Mehta is the author of the poetry collection “Forest with Castanets” and the forthcoming “Tiny Extravaganzas,” and the recipient of the Peter Heinegg Literary Award, as well as of grants and fellowships from the Cafe Royal Cultural Foundation, Civitella Ranieri, and Yaddo.

Eavan Boland was a legendary poet who was born in Dublin, Ireland. She emerged as one of the foremost female voices in Irish literature. Her poetry is known for subverting traditional constructions of womanhood as well as offering fresh perspectives on Irish history and mythology. Over ten volumes of poetry were written by her. Eavan Boland was an honorary member of the Royal Irish Academy and a member of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. She received the Lifetime Achievement Award at the Irish Book Awards among many other honors. The remarkable work she created addressed themes seldom found in the world of Irish poetry and won her many accolades. Also a college professor, she taught at Stanford University, beginning in 1996. In Stanford she directed the creative writing program for over two decades. During the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020 she moved back to Dublin to settle into her hometown during the lockdown. Sadly she passed away of a stroke in her Dublin home in April of 2020. This State of the Arts podcast episode is in honor of one of Irish literature's most influential writers.

In 2014 Eavan gave her Michael Littleton Memorial Lecture addressing what must have been a deliberately provocative title: - Has Poetry A Future.

098 - The other night I wanted to tell a story. The next morning I decided I didn't want to. Do you tell it, or do you keep it drifting on the surface of your heart ocean? I bring you 'Instructions' by the Irish poet Eavan Boland. I follow that with a quick angry draft of my own. This is Atom Alicia C. I'll be reading at the Hong Kong International Literary Festival this weekend. Thank you for holding space for my process.

Welcome to our last episode of 2022! We surprised each other this week with some reading kismet. Each of us arrived at Book Cougars HQ with a poetry collection in hand and a poem we wanted to share. Chris reads the poem “The Margin” from The Historians: Poems by Eavan Boland. Emily reads “Improvement” by Danusha Laméris from How to Love the World: Poems of Gratitude and Hope edited by James Crews. We've also been reading some exciting novels that are coming out in early 2023. Two that we highly recommend are debut novels: — Night Wherever We Go by Tracey Rose Peyton (Ecco Press, release date 1/10/23) — The Writing Retreat by Julia Bartz (Atria Books, release date 2/21/23) Thanks to the publishers and NetGalley for the advance reader copies. In 2022, the focus of our quarterly readalongs were books written by Indigenous Authors. Our fourth and final book of the year was Murder on the Red River: A Cash Blackbear Mystery by Marcie R. Rendon. Both of us really enjoyed the book and had a great time chatting with Marcie on this episode. The next two books in the series are Girl Gone Missing and Sinister Graves. We wish you a Happy Holiday Season filled with lots of love, light, and happy reading!

In this Film Ireland podcast, Gemma Creagh talks to Alan Gilsenan, Director of Ghosts of Baggotonia. Ghosts of Baggotonia is a haunting and visually captivating film-poem exploring the literary and other ghosts of the bohemian quarter bordering Dublin's Baggot Street during the mid-20th century. “Baggotonia” as it has become known – was both a permeable geographic area and a cultural movement, populated by writers, artists and other intellectuals living an anarchic life at odds with the over-arching drabness and the conservative mores of the time. Inspired by a rare collection of photographs from artist Nevill Johnson, the film is shot in starkly beautiful Leica monotone and draws upon writings from the period, including Patrick Kavanagh, Elizabeth Bowen, Samuel Beckett, Blanaid Salkeld, John Montague, Eavan Boland, Paul Durcan, Ethna McCarthy, Thomas Kinsella amongst many others. This stunning film is also an act of psycho-geography as well as a personal meditation on Alan Gilsenan's childhood, where he grew up amidst the ghosts on the mythical Raglan Road. His own poetic script frames the film – voiced by Gilsenan himself and Camille O'Sullivan – and features a remarkable original soundtrack from composer Brian Crosby (formerly of Juniper, The Cake Sale & Bell XI). Ghosts of Baggotonia is in cinemas from 9th December 2022.

In which something begins. To avoid spoilers, content warnings are listed at the end of this episode description. “Things are getting ready to happen out of sight.” - Eavan Boland, 'This Moment' Dramatis Personae: NIGEL MCKEON as REDACTED Written by NIGEL MCKEON Produced by PIPPIN EIRA MAJOR Music by ALEX SCHWARTZ Episode Transcript by MORGAN CHAMPINE and MATY PARZIVAL Follow us on Twitter @AmongStacks for future news and updates, or on our Tumblr amongthestackspodcast Visit our website at amongthestackspodcast.com Join our Discord server here View the episode transcript here Content warnings for this episode include: Vocal Distortion

Tess Taylor, who Ilya Kaminsky recently hailed as “the poet for our moment” resides in El Cerrito, California. Her poems have received wide national and international acclaim. Taylor's chapbook, The Misremembered World, was selected by Eavan Boland for the Poetry Society of America's inaugural chapbook competition. The San Francisco Chronicle called her first book, The Forage House, (an exploration of hidden family histories through archive and shard) “stunning,” and it was a finalist for the Believer Poetry Award. --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/viewlesswings/support

24 de septiembre

TOPICS: Prudence in the post-Dobbs environment, Critical Race Theory and the progressive war on truth, & the Irish poets Katharine Tynan & Eavan Boland Host Scot Bertram talks with Matthew Spalding, Vice President of Washington Operations and Dean of the Van Andel Graduate School of Government for Hillsdale College, about the post-Dobbs environment and the need for prudence in deliberations and legislating. Jonathan Butcher, Will Skillman Fellow in Education at the Heritage Foundation, previews his recent book SPLINTERED: CRITICAL RACE THEORY AND THE WAR ON TRUTH. And Elizabeth Fredericks, Assistant Professor of English at Hillsdale, returns for more of her series on modern Irish poetry, this time focusing on Katharine Tynan & Eavan Boland

Alvy Carragher is an Irish poet based in Toronto. She has published two books of poetry and a children's novel. Her poetry has appeared in various anthologies, literary websites and publications such as The Irish Times, Poetry Ireland Review, The Guardian, and The Galway Review. Her second poetry book "the men I keep under my bed" was published in 2021, and her debut collection of poetry, "Falling in love with broken things," was published in 2016, both by Salmon Poetry. ​ She represented Poetry Ireland as the delegate for the Poetry Ireland Introduction Series in 2016 in the Lincoln Center, NYC. Eavan Boland chose her as a featured poet in the 122nd issue of the Poetry Ireland Review. Read more about Alvy here. If you would like to read more of her poems, they can be found here or you can watch her amazing readings here. As always, we would love to hear from you. Have you tried send me a message on the Eh Poetry Podcast page yet? Eh Poetry Podcast Music by ComaStudio from Pixabay --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/ehpoetrypodcast/message

A reading of five poems: Eavan Boland, “The Making of An Irish Goddess” Gerard Manley Hopkins, “That Nature Is a Heraclitean Fire and of the Comfort of the Resurrection” William Wordsworth, “London, 1802” John Milton, ending to Paradise Lost Philip Sidney, “Loving in truth” Any comments, or suggestions for readings I should make in later episodes, can be emailed to humanvoiceswakeus1@gmail.com. I assume that the small amount of work presented in each episode constitutes fair use. Publishers, authors, or other copyright holders who would prefer to not have their work presented here can also email me at humanvoiceswakeus1@gmail.com, and I will remove the episode immediately. --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/humanvoiceswakeus/support

Welcome home! Now slip off your raincoat and settle down in the flickering firelight.  Listening to Janet Sutherland will suggest summer snakes hissing in the hay, as you explore the rural upbringing that has shaped the quietly-magnificent world of her four Shearsman Books collections: Burning the Heartwood, Hangman's Acre, Bone Monkey and Home Farm. Meanwhile, your pals Robin and Peter begin 2022 eyeing a patriarchal statue in a beautiful poem by  Eavan Boland from her New Collected Poems from Carcanet . And devouring  C+nto and othered poems by Joelle Taylor to find it an elegiac, barnstorming celebration - and a just winner of the T.S. Eliot prize too. 

More from our annual live show at the National Concert Hall (mix of new and archive material) with special guests Olivia O'Leary, Manchán Magan, AM Cousins, Thomas McCarthy, Eavan Boland, Paul Howard, Lisa Lambe, Caoimhe Ní Fhlaharta, Séamus Ó Flaharta, the Voice Squad, Geraldine Doherty, and Cormac Kenevey and the RTÉ Concert Orchestra

In this episode, we discuss Denise Levertov's powerful meditation on the horrors of the twentieth century, and how the mystery of the incarnation might provide humanity with some hope. Our close reading of this poem is informed by Eavan Boland's Preface and Anne Dewey and Paul A. Lacey's Afterword in The Collected Poems of Denise Levertov (New Directions, 2013). To read "On the Mystery of the Incarnation," click here (https://allpoetry.com/On-The-Mystery-Of-The-Incarnation). To read Levertov's essay "Some Notes on Organic Form," click here (https://www.poetryfoundation.org/articles/69392/some-notes-on-organic-form-56d249032078f). ''On the Mystery of the Incarnation'' by Denise Levertov comes from her book A DOOR IN THE HIVE, copyright ©1989 by Denise Levertov. Used by permission of New Directions Publishing Corp. Photo of Denise Levertov © David Geier. For more information see National Portrait Gallery at The Smithsonian Institution: https://npg.si.edu/object/npg_NPG.2011.103

Winter Light features artists Martin Gale & Aideen Barry, ark.ie/events/view/exhibition-winter-light, Siobhán Kane explores the connection between walking & creativity in literature, Jesse Jones is the artist in residency for the King's Inn Society of Ireland, Emma Tobin & Lauren Green are the first winners of the Eavan Boland Emerging Poet Award.

A repeat of a collection of episodes from last year, of five poems by the Irish poet, Eavan Boland. All of them can be found in her New Collected Poems (https://www.amazon.com/New-Collected-Poems-Eavan-Boland/dp/0393337308/) Quarantine Irish Poetry Lines for a Thirtieth Wedding Anniversary The Pomegranate Lava Cameo Any comments, or suggestions for readings I should make in later episodes, can be emailed to humanvoiceswakus1@gmail.com. I assume that the small amount of work presented in each episode constitutes fair use. Publishers, authors, or other copyright holders who would prefer to not have their work presented here can also email me at humanvoiceswakus1@gmail.com, and I will remove the episode immediately. --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/humanvoiceswakeus/support

About Our GuestsKristina Erny is a third-culture poet who grew up in South Korea. She holds an MFA from the University of Arizona. Her work has been the recipient of the Tupelo Quarterly Inaugural Poetry Prize and the Ruskin Art Club Poetry Award, and has been published by The Los Angeles Review, Yemassee, Bluestem, and Tupelo Quarterly, among other journals.After over a decade of living as an expatriate abroad, she currently lives and teaches in Jessamine County, Kentucky, with her husband and three children.Jeremy Paden is Professor of Spanish and Latin American literature at Transylvania University in Lexington, Kentucky, and on faculty in translation at Spalding University's low-residency MFA. world as sacred burning heart, his full-length collection of poems on the Spanish colonization of the Americas, was published in April of 2021. Under the Ocelot Sun, a bilingual, illustrated children's book, won the 2020 Ada-Campoy Prize for Children's Literature from the North American Academy of Spanish Language.  His bilingual collection of poems, Self-Portrait as an Iguana, which co-won the first Poet in New York Prize by Valparaíso USA, has just been published. ResourcesJeremy recommends that you read and study the poem "Eviction" by Eavan Boland before attempting his prompt. The prompt can easily be adapted for fiction or nonfiction writers.Kristina suggests visiting a local art gallery for writing inspiration. If you aren't able to visit in person, check out 21C's online gallery.Listen to the podcast for the complete description of their prompts.Join the Prompt to Page Writing GroupTuesday, September 28, 6:00 PMSpend time working on this month's Prompt to Page podcast writing prompts, get feedback, and share writing tips with a community of other writers. Open to all writing levels.Registration is required.Submit Your WritingWe'd love to see what you're writing! Submit your response to the episode 1 prompts for a chance to have them read on a future episode of the podcast.

In my program last week, I talked about how monuments create symbolic significance in our lives. They are objects specifically made to create such meanings. Today I consider how we endow things of the natural world with symbolic significances. I use the cormorant as an example of imposed symbolic meaning on natural objects and read poems by Robinson Jeffers, Eavan Boland, Kobayashi Issa, Macdara Woods, Li-Young Lee, and Christopher Isherwood. I begin the program with two of my own poems.

Tobias Wolff on his selection: I read three poems, two by my longtime friend and colleague, Eavan Boland, who died last year, a loss that I feel still. There is a tradition in Irish poetry, inflected by the long Independence movement and a certain kind of heroic poetry, that Boland confronts. The third poem is one by John N. Morris, a poem I have carried in my mind since the mid-70s, that has gathered meaning for me as I had my own children, and now grandchildren: the heroism of learning to let go. New Collected Poems by Eavan Boland  The Life Beside This One by John N. Morris Music: "Shift of Currents" by Blue Dot Sessions // CC BY-NC 2.0

Eavan Boland talks about her life and work. Presenter: Kay Sheehy Producer: Helen Shaw An Athena Media production (First broadcast in 2008)

This poem offers critique into a moment of Irish history when Ireland, through independence, was rising to the light. But Irish women were facing lives as constricted in independence as under empire. Decades later, Eavan Boland reads a newspaper of her grandmother’s near-eviction and is consumed both by rage and critique of how history concerns itself with the politics of men, not women. This poem is a corrective, turning the gaze on historians, as well as history.Eavan Boland was an Irish poet, author, and professor at Stanford University, where she taught from 1996. Her work deals with the Irish national identity, and the role of women in Irish history. Her books of poetry include The Historians: Poems, Against Love Poetry: Poems, New Collected Poems, and many more.Find the transcript for this show at onbeing.org.

Eavan Boland (Irish Poet) makes for a very (Irish Poet) episode as your host is informed of the closure of his favorite Dinette.  --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/jacob-davies2/support

Eavan Boland (Irish Poet) makes for a very (Irish Poet) episode as your host is informed of the closure of his favorite Dinette.  --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/jacob-davies2/support

Episode Topic:  The Body in Irish HistoryThis week, we consider how the body has been represented in Irish culture and society throughout history. From the Great Famine, through the revolutionary period, and into the censored society of the independent state, the body has been starved, threatened, weaponized, and repressed. We look at how W.B. Yeats, James Joyce, and Eavan Boland reassess the body in Irish history. Professor Declan Kiberd will be joined by art historian Dr. Eimear O'Connor during the live discussion.Featured Speakers: Declan Kiberd, Emeritus Donald and Marilyn Keough Professor of Irish Studies and Professor of English and Irish Language and LiteratureDr. O'Connor, HRHA, art historian, curator, lecturer, advisor, and archivistRead this episode's recap over on the University of Notre Dame's open online learning community platform, ThinkND: go.nd.edu/8dddde.This podcast is a part of the Kylemore Book ClubThinkND Series titled "Understanding the Body with W.B. Yeats & James Joyce".

To support our work and listen to additional content from previous episodes, see here: https://patreon.com/yourshelf and follow us on social media @_yourshelf_ (note: there is no Patreon episode for either of our Books of the Year 2020 episodes). In our latest, tenth episode of The YourShelf Podcast, Poetry Book of the Year 2020, our chief curator Juliano Zaffino (Jay) catches up with Seán Hewitt to discuss Seán's book Tongues of Fire, the work of Gerard Manley Hopkins, Hewitt's forthcoming memoir (due 2022), and a recap of the best books of 2020. For full show notes, see here: https://podcast.yourshelf.uk/episodes/10. Thanks for listening.LinksPatreonInstagramTwitterPodcastYourShelfEpisode NotesJay asks Seán about what book world he would live in, what his bookshelves look like, and who he'd invite to a literary dinner party. (from 0:01)Seán explains the origins of his book Tongues of Fire, his pamphlet Lantern, the scope of nature poetry, timeliness vs timelessness, the influence of Gerard Manley Hopkins and more. (from 9:20)Seán recaps his favourite books, albums and TV shows of 2020, recommends some titles for 2021, and hints at his forthcoming memoir, All Down Darkness Wide, due out 2022. (from 44:50)Seán Hewitt gives a special reading of Jay's favourite poem in Tongues of Fire, 'Adoratrion'. (from 1:01:03)The books and authors discussed in this episode include: Philip Pullman's Northern Lights, the works of Flann O'Brien, Virginia Woolf, James Baldwin, Gerard Manley Hopkins, Christopher Marlowe and William Blake, Thomas Hardy's Jude The Obscure, Hera Lindsay Bird by Hera Lindsay Bird, Alice Oswald's Dart, Freya Daly Sadgrove's Head Girl, Mark Doty's My Alexandria, Wayne Holloway-Smith's Love After Love, and the works of Ocean Vuong, Doireann Ní Ghríofa, Karin Boye and J.M. Synge.Seán's 2020 highlights include Claudia Rankine's Just Us, Hilary Fannin's The Weight of Love, Rachel Long's My Darling From The Lions, Eavan Boland's The Historians, Robin Robertson's Grimoire, Jane Mead's World of Made and Unmade, and Caleb Femi's Poor. Aside from books, Seán's other 2020 highlights include the albums What's Your Pleasure? by Jessie Ware and Roísín Machine by Roísín Murphy, the TV shows Schitt's Creek and The Crown, and playing the Nintendo game The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild.Seán's most anticipated releases of 2021 include Niven Govinden's Diary of a Film, Jackie Kay's Bessie Smith, Andrew McMillan's Pandemonium, Kayo Chingonyi's A Blood Condition, and Jen Hadfield's The Stone Age.Seán's book Tongues of Fire is available now from Jonathan Cape. His academic volume J.M. Synge: Nature, Politics, Modernism is available from Oxford University Press, 7 January 2021.Thanks for listening and tune in again very soon for our second Book of the Year episode, with Doireann Ní Ghríofa!

This week I take a look at the poem Amber by Eavan Boland. It is a poem that speaks to the joy and pain of remembering a lost loved one through the objects they've left behind. It showcases Boland's talent for imagery and the fluidity of movement and experience she became famous for.The show notes for today's episode, with full references can be found here: https://wordsthatburnpodcast.com/You can get in touch with me on instagram: https://www.instagram.com/wordsthatburnpodcast/or by email : wordsthatburnpodcast@gmail.comThe music in this weeks episode is Illuminations by Kai Engel and is used under creative commons license. Enjoy his music here: : https://www.kai-engel.com/content-id. Our GDPR privacy policy was updated on August 8, 2022. Visit acast.com/privacy for more information.

Donate to bailout fund, pass it on. Following up on last week's conversation with one of our favs Keetje Kuipers, today, we dig into one of her mentor's poems "Quarantine" by Eavan Boland. Writer and editor KEETJE KUIPERS (pronounced Kay-tcha Ky-pers) is the author of three books of poems, all from BOA Editions. Her first book, Beautiful in the Mouth, was selected by Thomas Lux as the winner of the A. Poulin, Jr. Poetry Prize. Named one of the top ten debut poetry books of 2010 by Poets & Writers, her first book also appeared in the top ten on the contemporary poetry bestseller list. Her second collection, The Keys to the Jail (2014), was a book club selection for The Rumpus, and her third book, All Its Charms (2019), includes poems honored by publication in both The Pushcart Prize and Best American Poetry anthologies. EAVAN BOLAND was born in Dublin, Ireland, on September 24, 1944. Her father was a diplomat and her mother was an expressionist painter. At the age of six, Boland moved with her family to London, where she first encountered anti-Irish sentiment. She later returned to Dublin for school, and she received her B.A. from Trinity College in 1966. She was also educated in London and New York. Boland's poetry collections include A Poet's Dublin (Carcanet Press, 2014), A Woman Without a Country (W. W. Norton, 2014), New Collected Poems (W. W. Norton, 2008), An Origin Like Water: Collected Poems 1967-1987 (W. W. Norton, 1996), and In Her Own Image (Arien House, 1980).