All posts tagged: Censorship

The Censorship of ‘Fragmens Sur Les Institutions Républicaines IV’ by Shane Cullen

It interests me when politicians, whether local or national, decide that they’d really like to censor the work of artists. This interest stems from my studies at UCD under Dr. Alistair Rowan, Dr Nancy Dunn-Czak, and of course Dr. Paula Murphy. The study of the History of Art includes numerous modules on censorship of art, including the censorship of art works here in Ireland from the foundation of the state onwards. Mostly I am interested in calls for censorship that derive from a political system that has existed in an unreformed state for many years, wherein politicians achieve power through local agitation, or as we refer to it here gombeen politics. Power in Ireland is sought after and attained when a (mostly) young male climbs from his youth group, to council, to government. A degree or equivalent isn’t really necessary to the hot housing of politicians, and therein lies the difficulty. Maybe I expect that local  politicians should have an awareness of the major policy issues of their party in government and if there is …

Dreaming poems; editing Julian of Norwich and ‘The Dream of the Rood’

1. ‘Lo! I will tell of the best of dreams, what I dreamed in the middle of the night, after the speech-bearers were in bed. It seemed to me that I saw a very wondrous tree 5. lifted into the air, enveloped by light, the brightest of trees.’ . from The Dream of the Rood (electronic edition),  created by Mary Rambaran-Olm. . A few weeks ago my attention was called to an annotated electronic edition of the Dream of the Rood , created by Mary Rambaran-Olm.  I thought to link this edition on Poethead  to compliment some of my earlier posts about women editors and writers. There are an amount of works on the blog dedicated to the poetry of the mystic-writer, these posts deal specifically with the woman’s mystic voice rather than approaches to contemporary editing by women. The sole exception to the above is based in a few scattered posts that allude to Marion Glasscoe’s magnificent editing of Julian Of Norwich’s  A Revelation of Divine love. Glasscoe’s Julian is in my opinion a seminal text, and I have retained my copy since I studied …

Paul Muldoon and the Art of Poetry, No.87, Paris Review

The Griffin Poetry Prize has been making excellent use of Social media, including Twitter to publicise this year’s prize list and as little of note happens in the Irish Sunday papers, I thought to add in by way of my blog their link to the Paris Review interview with Paul Muldoon . Poetry readers familiar with this site will know that it is  a rare occurrence for me to link to the Paris Review interviews , but that I think they are always worthwhile. Paul Muldoon came to Tara in 2008 to celebrate our unique heritage, along with Susan Mc Keown and Seamus Heaney , this was a protest, a lament and an attempt to support those campaigners who had fought through Ireland’s courts and the EU about radical fast-track planning. One Irish newspaper  of note reported the Turn at Tara as ‘Heaney celebrates Heritage Week’ !  One expects this type of bilge as a matter of course in an undifferentiated mass-media that distrusts ideas. But I digress – Related Links The Paris Review interview is here : http://www.theparisreview.org/interviews/30/the-art-of-poetry-no-87-paul-muldoon The Turn at Tara (2008)  is here https://poethead.wordpress.com/2011/08/11/a-turn-at-tara-august-28th-2011/ Poethead piece is here : https://poethead.wordpress.com/2010/11/05/from-wraiths-iii-white-nights-by-seamus-heaney/ Anne Sexton (Paris Review) : https://poethead.wordpress.com/2010/10/04/paris-review-anne-sexton-the-art-of-poetry-no-15/ I said it once this week but it bears repeating , radical censorship is unnecessary in Ireland, a media group-think can …

‘Secret Waters’ by Eva Gore-Booth.

Secret Waters BY EVA GORE-BOOTH Lo, in my soul there lies a hidden lake, High in the mountains, fed by rain and snow, The sudden thundering avalanche divine, And the bright waters’ everlasting flow, Far from the highways’ dusty glare and heat. Dearer it is and holier, for Christ’s sake, Than his own windy lake in Palestine, For there the little boats put out to sea Without him, and no fisher hears his call, Yea, on the desolate shores of Galilee No man again shall see his shadow fall. Yet here the very voice of the one Light Haunts with sharp ecstasy each little wind That stirs still waters on a moonlit night, And sings through high trees growing in the mind, And makes a gentle rustling in the wheat. . . . Yea, in the white dawn on this happy shore, With the lake water washing at his feet, He stands alive and radiant evermore, Whose presence makes the very East wind kind, And turns to heaven the soul’s green-lit retreat. by Eva Gore …