Irish poet, author, and professor Eavan Frances Boland passed away at her home in Dublin on Monday April 27th at the age of 75. Stanford University, where Boland taught since 1995, said in a statement that the cause was a stroke. Born September 24, 1944 in Dublin, Boland was the director of creative writing at Stanford for 21 years and a recipient of the Lannan Literary Award … [Read more...] about Eavan Boland
Irish Poet
Billy Collins as Soul Friend
By Mimi Moriarty, Contributor
October / November 2001
A visit to Ireland with Poet Laureate Billy Collins. ℘℘℘ What draws an assortment of poets to Ireland to study with Billy Collins? If you've been to the Beara Peninsula, you understand the allure of this mountainous region in West Cork; if you are familiar with Billy Collins' poetry, its quirky bends and heart-stopping imagery, you would never even ask the question. … [Read more...] about Billy Collins as Soul Friend
Remembrance
By Peter Quinn, Contributor
August / September 2001
The potato blight arrived in Ireland in the late summer of 1845.Pest, parasite, fungus, invisible and invincible,it stuck across Europe, the same sudden, unstoppable invasion everywhere. Infection, corruption, devastation.But Ireland was a special case.Ireland was a place where for millions of people, the potato was neither staple nor supplement, but sustenance: … [Read more...] about Remembrance
The Bellow of Great Airs
By Elizabeth Raggi, Contributor
August / September 2001
The wood-paneled wall of Lincoln Center's Alice Tully Hall opened like the ribcage of a Leviathan. And two giant voices emerged. One was the drone of the pipes, the other was of the human tongue, the decibels of high and low that make poetry. Both were ancient, borne into the present and burrowed deep in the listeners' bones. The audience hushed. And then the cotton-haired … [Read more...] about The Bellow of Great Airs
Chapter & Hearse
By Darina Molloy, Contributor
April / May 2001
"For twelve long years I've suffered this damned cat.../ though more than once I've threatened violence/ the brick and burlap in the river recompense/ for mounds of furballs littering the house." – "Grimalkin" ℘℘℘ "Grimalkin," Tom Lynch informs me, "is dead." I couldn't help it, I had to know. The cat lasted almost eight years after the poem was written. "I had … [Read more...] about Chapter & Hearse