My whistle calls the drops,
till they tumble down in torrents,
pounding on the rocks and on the craggy shore.
Then the flood runs swirling brown through every creek and channel,
as though it cannot wait to fill them to the brim, Continue reading
He first met her by chance as she was emerging from a taxi, ‘…a vision in black velvet and volumised hair’, recognising O’Hagan as ‘that Scottish boy’ and his response in kind, ‘And you’re that country girl.’ Continue reading
Irish in Australia: Irish-themed Movies, Tours, and Festivals Continue reading
She brought ashore a language / and a pocketful of scraps: / a seagull nested in her mind / and she found shelter in a doorless house / that would let her neither in nor out / though she escaped in a dream / and saw before her a tribe / who reminded her of the dead Continue reading
Irish in Australia: Irish-themed Movies, Tours, and Festivals Continue reading
Melbourne Hosts successful two-day symposium on Irish Language. Next is a review of Australian novelist and diarist Helen Garner’s How to End a Story, much appreciated by those of us who are Garner fans. ‘Priests in the Family’ provides Enright’s intriguing family connection to James Joyce, followed by an ‘Introduction to Ulysses’ where she talks about her personal experience of starting to read that famous book at the age of fourteen, ‘mainlining language, getting high on words’ Continue reading
Irish in Australia: Irish-themed Movies, Tours, and Festivals Continue reading
‘Only Our Rivers run Free’, ‘It was a classic example of the right song, in the right place at the right time, recorded by the right artist, Christy Moore, because Christy’s career was taking off in a big way it afforded an authority and a whole importance to the song… Continue reading
Beads of rain streak the window beyond which there is a violet tint in the sky as dusk begins to fall. Dim telegraph poles slip by. Then the chequerboard of yellow and black at the edge of a small town, and bubbled letters caught in the floodlights of an AstroTurf pitch. Continue reading
During the night, my brother Brian’s dog never stopped yapping. Early next morning my mother called out and she always used the Irish language pronunciation of my name.
‘Meehawl, your fry is on the table, and you’ll need it. You have a long day ahead of you.’ Continue reading
Tinteán 