• chris murray
  • journals – bibliography – publication notes
  • downloadable items – essays – media
  • copyright
  • Home

Chris Murray

  • Máthair Chréafóige, by Helen Soraghan Dwyer.

    January 17th, 2011

    Earth Mother

    for Firoana.
     
    The plains of Romania
    Under thirty degrees of heat
    Stretch to the poplar trees
    At the edge of the earth.
     
    A weathered peasant lady
    Offers me water,
    Her toothless smile
    Mothers me
    As I rest in the shade.
     
    She is a daughter of this soil,
    Of sun and sweat and toil.
    I am from a city
    She will never visit.
     
    As I return her smile
    And sip her water
    She is every woman’s mother,
    I am every woman’s daughter.
     

    from Still, by Helen Soraghan Dwyer.

    Máthair Chréafóige

     
    do Firoana
     
    Machairí na Rómáine
    I mbrothall an lae
    Síneann go poibleoga bhána
    Ar imeall an domhain.
     
    Bean chríonna tuaithe
    A thairgeann deoch dom,
    Miongháire mantach
    Dom mhúirniú
    Istigh faoin bhfothain.
     
    Iníon chréafóige í,
    Iníon allais is gréine.
    Ón gcathair nach bhfeicfir choíche
    Is ea do thángas.
     
    Aoibh ormsa leis
    Ag ól uisce,
    Iníon cách mise,
    Máthair cách í siúd.
     
    as Faire, le Helen Soraghan Dwyer. Lapwing Publications, Belfast 2010.
     
    Note about the Book.
     
    I picked up this book and another volume of women’s poetry on Saturday, in my local bookshop. The poetry section is well-balanced and stocked. As I have not asked permission to advertise the shop,  so I won’t name the wonderful proprietor yet. Suffice it to say that she also does  some excellent internet ordering ,  and has some  independently bound essays which are virtually impossible to get in Ireland. I shall edit this with a link to catalogues in the near future.

    Máthair Chréafóige – Earth Mother  by Helen Soraghan Dwyer. From Still – Faire. Trans, Bernadette Nic an tSaoir Lapwing Publications 2010.


  • “Chorus of the Rescued” by Nelly Sachs

    January 15th, 2011
    We, the rescued,
    From whose hollow bones death had begun to whittle his flutes,
    And on whose sinews he had already stroked his bow—
    Our bodies continue to lament
    With their mutilated music.
     
    We, the rescued,
    The nooses would for our necks still dangle
    Before us the blue air—
    Hourglasses still fill with our dripping blood.
     
    We, the rescued,
    The worms of fear still feed on us.
    Our constellation is buried in dust.
     
    We, the rescued,
    Beg you:
    Show us your sun…. but gradually.
    Lead us from star to star, step by step.
    Be gentle when you teach us to live again.
    Lest the song of a bird,
    Or a pail being filled at the well,
    Let our badly sealed pain burst forth again
    And carry us away—
    We beg you:
    Do not show us any angry dog, not yet—
    It could be, it could be
    That we will dissolve into dust—
    Dissolve into dust before your eyes.
    For what binds our fabric together?
     
    We whose breath vacated us,
    Whose soul fled to Him out of that midnight?
    Long before our bodies were rescued
    Into the arc of the moment.
     
    We, the rescued,
    We press your hand
    We look into your eye—but all that binds us together now is leave-taking.
    The leave-taking in the dust
    Binds us together with you.


     ‘In Heidegger’s Germany there is no room for Paul Celan’ Pierre Joris

     ‘Comes Somebody’ by Nelly Sachs , trans. Marianne Agren Mc Elroy

    Chorus of the Rescued poem text and discussion here

  • Frail things in Eternal Places, the Dialogues blog.

    January 13th, 2011

    I have added Dialogues to the Art and Image link-set on Poethead, which can be found on the left-hand  column of the main page, or just beneath this post. It’s a wonderful find in my opinion and a good edition to the Art and Image grouping here on the site. I was completely captivated by two essays therein which I am excerpting here :

    “If the exchange of ideas between architecture, the arts, and the sciences may be described as a trichotomy, it is certainly a complex, fascinating and relevant group of interactions to examine. And if this thesis is an attempt to extricate, firstly, a set of themes through which Architecture may be compared to language, and second, to investigate and question those themes, then it is within the subject of memory that we encounter a most difficult theme. Memory and language are interconnected, even interdependent. Theirs is an interaction studied in disciplines from cognitive neuroscience to philosophy, linguistics and literature. But how does memory, then, relate to architecture, if it does at all? In what ways does it relate? Does its relation exist in the exchange of metaphors or , alternatively, can architecture be a physical manifestation of memories? In the history of architecture memory has been understood, employed and denied in dramatically different ways.“

    link here to ‘Frail Things in Eternal Places ‘, from the Dialogues blog

    The following two links are to another essay on the Dialogues blog, entitled A Connemara Fractal penned by Ian Pollard and including the poem Iar Chonnachta. I hope that readers will go over and examine this wonderful blog. The following is a short piece on the Poem Iar Chonnacht, which is linked below in toto  :

    “The poem also considers the often bleak history of a beautiful, unique place on the western seaboard of Europe; where ancient walls made by unknown men protect grazing sheep from a vertiginous demise. This is the real Ireland; seen not as the romantic, pastoral sentence of the peasant’s noble struggle on a land they did not own, but as a place with a social history ravaged by the forces of  isolation, colonial avarice and the vicious and endemic disregard of Ireland’s institutions for the plight of the individual.”

    Iar Chonnacht from Mat.zine 5 [Views] .
    jpg from Mat.zine 5 [Views]

     

    Art and Image Links on Poethead.

    • Alice Maher.
    • Annie West
    • Ágnes Nemes Nagy
    • Charlotte Salomon
    • Critical Art Ensemble
    • Critical Art Ensemble/biotech
    • Dialogues
    • Dictionary of War + links
    • Discussion on Victorian and Pre-Raphaelite Art
    • Frances Castle : Maker of ‘Green Veggie Monster’
    • Frida!
    • in pursuit 3.
    • Leonard Baskin Collection
    • Louis Le Brocquy Celtic Heads and Catalogue
    • Madden Review
    • Maria Llopis
    • National Campaign for Arts
    • National Museum of Women in the Arts
    • Punk Victorian: The Stuckists.
    • RB Kitaj
    • RB Kitaj and the Art of Memory
    • War + Tony Harrison
    • Westwood Censorship
    • Wiki Stuckism


  • Paulo Coelho’s books are now allegedly banned in Iran, January 2011

    January 10th, 2011

    This post quite simply comprises an external link to the Coelho blog and indeed his Twitter Account. Today, Mr Coelho released the contents of an email onto his blog and linked it by URL to Twitter, so its mostly  common-knowledge and I will not comment here, save to say that the tag under which this short post   is categorised is censorship (this tag mostly includes the PH  Category/tags : blasphemy/fund-cuts). Here is a short C+P from the Coelho blog, the link is attached at the end of this piece:

    Books banned in Iran,  from Paulo Coehlo‘s  blog 10/01/2011 , 10 Janeiro 2011.

    “1] My books have been published in Iran since 1998, in different publishing houses (Caravan Books, directed by Arash Hejazi, is the only official publisher). So far, we estimated that there are over 6 million copies sold in the country.

    2] My books have been published under different governments in Iran. An arbitrary decision, after 12 years of publication in the country, can only be a misunderstanding.

    3] In 2009, I used the social communities to support Arash’s ordeal after the elections. You can read the post The Doctor.

    4] I hope this misunderstanding will be solved during this week. And I strongly count on the Brazilian Government to support me, my books, for the sake of all the values we cherish. “

    From Paulo Coelho’s Twitter account , updated this afternoon :

    From my Iranian publisher Arash Hejazi “I was informed today that the Ministry of Culture in Iran has banned all of your books”.

    “After nearly one week of International pressure, Epoca Magazine informs that the Iranian Embassy will release note denying the censorship.

    Valor Economico (a Brazilian newspaper) informs that Brazilian President Dilma Rousseff asked the Brazilian Ministry of Foreign Affairs the reason of the ban, and“was informed by the [ Iranian ] diplomatic corps [in Brasil] that the action was taken against the publishing house, not against the books of the Brazilian author”.


    As I said in my previous posts, there is no reason to ban books that are circulating in the country for the past 12 years Unfortunately, my official publishing house, Caravan Books, was closed.


    To see the official letter, CLICK HERE  (Disclaimer: this letter was sent and translated by Dr. Hejazi. I don’t have means to verify if the translation is accurate)

     



    Reuters report 10/01/2011
    Paulo Coelho’s Twitter Account with links and appeal re the banning.

    Culture Minister’s Statement re Banning


  • “The Valley” by Kerry Hardie.

    January 8th, 2011

    The Valley

    by Kerry Hardie.

    The first valley is the Valley of the Quest,
    the second the Valley of Love
    the third is the Valley of Understanding
    the fourth is the Valley of Independence and Detachment
    the fifth of Pure Unity
    the sixth is the Valley of Astonishment
    and the seventh is the Valley of Poverty and Nothingness
    beyond which one can go no further.’

    That is a Sufi story
    about a whole crowd of birds getting ready
    to go on an Awful Journey.
    They elect the Hoopoe as leader
    because he knows a thing or two,
    for instance the lie of the various valleys,
    and which one comes after which.
    What I like is the way it’s all more or less as expected
    until you hit the sixth.

    I should like to go
    to the Valley of Astonishment.
    I wonder where it lies
    this astonishing Valley of Astonishment ?
    In China perhaps?
    Or Peru?
    I wonder if you could stay there
    Out of your wits with astonishment,
    or if , in this witlessness, you might find yourself
    stumbling on , over the mountain –

    Note : the first stanza is quoted from The Conference of the Birds by Farid ud-Din Attar, written in the second half of the twelfth century AD. This rendering in english is by C.S Nott.

    Taken from The Stinging Fly , 25th Issue. Ed Declan Meade.

    Kerry Hardie bio page from Poetry International Web
     Women writers on Poethead 2010

    Tapestry Bird from Fine Art, America.
  • Galway Independent report on the absent Pádraic Ó Conaire statue, Eyre Square.

    January 5th, 2011

    put him back where he belongs please.

    This is a direct Cut and Paste link to the Galway Independent who are reporting on the absence of the Padraic O Conaire statue from the hugely expensive Eyre Square Refurbishment.

    Galway Independent, Wednesday, 05 January 2011. by Lorraine Hanlon

    “Those hoping to see Pádraic Ó Conaire returned to his natural home in Eyre  Square any time soon could be left waiting.

    Galway City Council has yet to allocate funds to build a replica of the famous Pádraic Ó Conaire statue , seven years after it was moved from its position in Eyre Square.

    The statue of the author of ‘M’asal Beag Dubh’ (My Little Black Donkey) stood in the centre of the city for almost 70 years before being beheaded by vandals in 1999. The landmark was then moved from Eyre Square in 2004 and eventually relocated to Galway City Museum at the Spanish Arch for safekeeping.”

    Maybe the council should see how it is done in Dublin, so I am adding in here an image of another piece of public art that is mostly beloved of Dubliners. The Kavanagh statue is in situ, which is mostly what accessible public art is about and how (indeed) it is conceived by the sculptor.

    A poet sits by the Canal , Paddy Kavanagh

    So Tired of waiting, report by Lorraine Hanlon at the Galway Independent

    Thanks to Fred Johnson at the Western Writer’s Centre, Ionad Scríbhneoiri Chaitlín Maude.

  • My Letter to The Irish Times, regarding Fianna Fáil Conservation policies

    January 4th, 2011

    This letter , published 3rd of January 2011, is regarding a lack of balance in policy initiatives by the current Irish government, who have not in my opinion balanced their environmental ‘policies’ with an ethos of conservation. I thought to publish it here and will migrate it onto a conservation page when I have that set up. I have added in a related link regarding the destruction of the Gabhra Valley (at Tara) at the base of this post.

    Buying land for roads hit by cutbacks

    Madam, – I find myself unsurprised by Frank McDonald’s report (Home News, December 27th) regarding the National Roads Authority’s buying of farmland. (The article states that an environmental group claims the National Roads Authority is continuing to buy up farmland for road schemes that no longer have Government approval due to cutbacks in the capital spending programme).

    The NRA appears to be about the only statutory agency in Ireland that has had any power in construction terms.

    Between 2001 and 2010 the Fianna Fáil ­ government set about abolishing those agencies charged with protecting our natural and built environment, Dúchas was abolished in 2003 by Martin Cullen TD, the OPW was split and even the Heritage portfolio was “dropped” temporarily in a Bertie Ahern cabinet reshuffle.

    If the Fianna Fáil government of 13 years had dedicated itself as wholeheartedly to conservation, excellence and adherence to EU directive laws as it has done to fast-track planning and critical infrastructure, Ireland would indeed be a nice place to live in.

    As it is, there has been no legislation directed toward conservation, and a war of attrition has been carried out against heritage through planning, abolition and under-funding. The ideal of “stewardship” has been cheapened toward profiteering and short-termism.

    I believe that the whole ideology of Fianna Fáil planning is encapsulated in the National Monuments Act 2004, which is a shaming indictment of a Government which indeed lost the run of itself years ago. Our agencies, such as the NRA have left us little to boast in our concept of cultural preservation. – Yours, etc,

    CHRISTINE MURRAY.

    EDIT : Link to the IT Letter, published here.
    EDIT :
    the Save Tara Campaign Group

    Creative Commons License
    This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

    an opened grave at the Lismullin site , Tara
  • Anne Hays, a letter to the New Yorker Magazine.

    January 4th, 2011

    The following letter by Anne Hays was published on Facebook  on January 2nd 2011, and since  it is a day for correspondences , I thought to link it herein. Thus far the letter has had 31 likes, numerous replies, and is linked onto Twitter via VIDA, women in the literary arts.


    January 2nd, 2011

    The New Yorker

    4 Times Square, 20th Floor

    New York, NY 10036

    Dear Editors of the New Yorker,

    “I am writing to express my alarm that this is now the second issue of the NYer in a row where only two (tiny) pieces out of your 76 page magazine are written by women.  The January 3rd, 2011 issue features only a Shouts & Murmurs (Patricia Marx) and a poem (Kimberly Johnson).  Every other major piece—the fiction, the profile, and all the main nonfiction pieces—is written by a man.  Every single critic is a male writer.

    We were already alarmed when we flipped through the Dec 20th & 27th double-issue to find that only one piece (Nancy Franklin) and one poem (Alicia Ostriker) were written by women.  A friend pointed out that Jane Kramer wrote one of the short Talk of the Town segments as well, though it barely placated our sense of outrage that one extra page, totaling three, out of the 148 pages in the magazine, were penned by women.  Again, every critic is a man.  To make matters more depressing, 22 out of the 23 illustrators for the magazine are men.  Seriously!

    Women are not actually a minority group, nor is there a shortage, in the world, of female writers.  The publishing industry is replete with female editors, and it would be too obvious for me to point out to you that the New Yorker masthead has a fair number of female editors in its ranks.  And so we are baffled, outraged, saddened, and a bit depressed that, though some would claim our country’s sexism problem ended in the late 60’s, the most prominent and respected literary magazine in the country can’t find space in its pages for women’s voices in the year 2011.

    I have enclosed the January issue and expect a refund.  You may either extend our subscription by one month, or you can replace this issue with a back issue containing a more equitable ratio of male to female voices. I plan to return every issue that contains fewer than five women writers.  You tend to publish 13 to 15 writers in each issue; 5 women shouldn’t be that hard.”

    A dismayed reader,

    Anne Hays

    One aspect of the 2011 reviews in literature, in the literary Arts was the absence of women from both the editorial panels which chose (overwhelmingly) writing by male authors, there were profound absences particularly in the US , of women, black and Hispanic authors. I shall add in a selection of Books of 2010 lists at the base of this link.

    In fact heres Jezebel Magazine’s analysis of the New Yorker Debacle:

    • Jezebel Magazine on the New Yorker Magazine.
    • 2010 discussion on Gender bias in literary publication
  • ‘Vatican’ by Daragh Breen

    December 28th, 2010

    Vatican

    Daragh Breen

    In a glass specimen-jar in the Vatican Archives is one of
    the blue bottle flies (Calliphora vormitoria), that festered
    in Christ’s wounded side as He was taken down from
    the Cross. In the catacombs of the fly’s eye is a moon
    suspended in darkness. On this sphere is a single, mast-
    like Crucifix , at the base of which is a simple white skull.
    In the empty right eye socket are the three nails that
    rivetted the body to the Cross. In the left socket, a new
    weak sun rises once a year, its light colouring everything
    the hue of the fox fur that was worn around the shoulders
    of a 15th Century Cardinal as he stepped out into the
    winter’s first snow, that made the marshes around Rome
    look lunar. Across those marshes stole the shadow cast
    by my figure , stitched into a crow costume that I made
    from a thousand dead wings. Just then an arrow pierced
    my side and I tumbled to the ground and waited for the
    hunters to gather me up as flies began to nest in the wet
    red ink of my wound. Then my bizarre, splayed form was
    borne by torchlight and set in a giant jar amongst all the
    other oddities and specimens in the Vatican Archives.

    from , Whale , by Daragh Breen. Publ. November Press 2010.


    The accompanying image is a still from David Wojnarowicz‘s A Fire in My Belly, which the Smithsonian Museum thought to ban on World Aids Day, bowing as some museums do to the pressure of certain mildly hysterical and somewhat uneducated Catholics. I have added the  discussion links to the base of this short post.

    It interests me greatly that David Wojnarowicz’s image would be considered controversial and/or blasphemic, given the visualism of Roman Catholic Art History and it’s burgeoning apocrypha. My first instinct regarding the banning was quite simple; no-one owns the intellectual property rights to  human suffering, and the defacing  or censoring of images generally does not work because these archetypes from whence such  images are derived are indeed universal .

    You may as well attempt to censor Luis Bunuel, Dali or the surrealists,as cave in to the pressure of people who do not understand the development of pictorial, or indeed three-dimensional images that have become apocryphal, but are there in our collective unconscious and our art history as guides and won’t just go away because someone screams blasphemy.

    Indeed the problem of indelicacy in artistic representation of images that some people may consider to be in extremis visualisation has been the subject of discourse for centuries. Blasphemy and incompetence being charges against the very artists whose bone-close expression seems more to uncover a desire for ownership – rather than an understanding of visual art , or indeed of the messages conveyed by David Wojnarowicz , amongst others.

    • Washington Post on the Smithsonian Debacle
    • Excerpt from ‘A Fire in My Belly’ by the late artist David Wojnarowicz
    • Covering Paintings and Twiddling with Art, Berlusconi’s Tiepolo
    • Ireland’s Blasphemy Criminalisation, ‘The Old king’
    • Across the Sound, by Daragh Breen
    Still Image from A Fire in My Belly by David Wojnarowicz, recently banned from the Smithsonian Museum
  • “Purdah I” by Imtiaz Dharker.

    December 23rd, 2010

    Purdah I

    by Imtiaz Dharker.

    One day they said
    she was old enough to learn some shame.
    She found it came quite naturally.

    Purdah is a kind of safety.
    The body finds a place to hide.
    The cloth fans out against the skin
    much like the earth that falls
    on coffins after they put dead men in.

    People she has known
    stand up, sit down as they have always done.
    But they make different angles
    in the light, their eyes aslant,
    a little sly.

    She half-remembers things
    from someone else’s life,
    perhaps from yours , or mine –
    carefully carrying what we do not own:
    between the thighs, a sense of sin.

    We sit still , letting the cloth grow
    a little closer to our skin.
    A light filters inward
    through our bodies’ walls.
    Voices speak inside us,
    echoeing in the spaces we have just left.

    She stands outside herself,
    sometimes in all four corners of a room.
    Wherever she goes , she is always
    inching past herself,
    as if she were a clod of earth,
    and the roots as well,
    scratching for a hold
    between the first and second rib.

    Passing constantly out of her own hands
    into the corner of someone else’s eyes…
    while doors keep opening
    inward and again
    inward. 

    Imtiaz Dharker  “grew up  a Muslim Calvinist in a Lahori household in Glasgow and eloped with a Hindi to live in Bombay”. This poem is taken from  The Bloodaxe Book of Contemporary Indian Poetry (Ed, Jeet Thayil.) I will be linking the review of this book onto the about Poethead page, when it is published.

    The image is from The Torture of Women, images by Nancy Spero and is linked at the bottom of this post.The most interesting thing about the Thayil edition is that women writers  are collected and represented in that book. Those women poets’  voices are quite clear and lovely , rather than providing a simple passive objectification for someone else to write.

    • Siglio Press edition of Nancy Spero’s ‘Torture of Women’ , reviewed by Guernica Magazine
    • Guernica Magazine Homepage
    • Women writers on Poethead 2010
    Nancy Spero ‘The Torture of Women’ ( image Siglio Press)
←Previous Page
1 … 71 72 73 74 75 … 106
Next Page→
 

Loading Comments...
 

    • Subscribe Subscribed
      • Chris Murray
      • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
      • Chris Murray
      • Subscribe Subscribed
      • Sign up
      • Log in
      • Report this content
      • View site in Reader
      • Manage subscriptions
      • Collapse this bar