| An Irish Way of Seeing
The influence of Ireland on modern poetry remains enormous. This tradition is ancient-an unbroken chain of genius that goes back two thousand years. But, Nobel Winners notwithstanding, little-known Irish poets continue to make us see fresh, and undreamed possibilities for writing in English. With the publication of this ninety-six-page volume, Mending the Skies, Celia Brown's name is added to a long list of talented poets who continue to expand upon, and be influenced by, themes that transfigure the ordinary with subtle nuances and Irish virtuosity.
Born the eldest of ten into a farm family in Westport, Mayo, Celia Brown learned early to draw her inspiration from hard times. This informs her work. In Mending the Skies, her poems of childhood brim with imagery and valor: from tinkers to wakes, shamrocks to peat; from cows, to hawks, to her father's doomed plough-horse. The poems are riveting because of the music, the magic, the presence of weather, the constant reminders of family. Early, too, she learned to be attentive to her traditions, geography, and the foibles of growing up a Catholic. These are lyrics of light and dark, of poignancy and wonder. This poet is not abashed to spit them out.
Ireland is, with its rocks and rainlight, the subject of some of Brown's best work. Here, we are transported by the Corpus Christi procession while "Christ stares out of shop and sky." Yet the poet is also abroad in a world where home can be as sooty as Stoke-on-Trent, or "half-crusted with glitter" as a winter on Cape Cod. This is a traveler seeking joy who charts the obstacles where she finds them, as Mending the Skies moves with us, taking its author past Europe and across America. Old themes are reprised as the poet embraces life and love, or faces mortality through work as a nurse. But wherever she is, she rejoices in small moments and celebrates the grand-as when she, a midwife, witnessed birth for the first time.
Like many Irish writers, Celia Brown's poetry is a love affair with sound. This she tempers with discipline and good diction. Above all she writes with wisdom and compassion, but it's a pleasure to note that she can also write with great humor, and even an earthy chuckle ("while hard-hats whistling Dixie take a leak"). In the end, Mending the Skies returns us with its author to Ireland: we have come home to a place we've never been before, and find that nothing has changed. |
