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In defence of the Irish essay
Karen Babine

approached in the guise of fiction. Again and again in Irish prose  – from James Joyce to John McGahern  – this line between fiction and reality, between biography and fantasy, is negotiated.3 When looking at shelves of other genres, as written by Irish authors, this same deep-seated negotiation is similarly applicable and is not confined to fiction, as Hand suggests. Historically, Irish drama, narrative poetry, the short story, as well as 128 Karen Babine the novel, all move against and between and through the truth and reality found in the story of self. Non

in Unfolding Irish landscapes
The poetic in the work of Tim Robinson
Moya Cannon

which gives Robinson’s work its plenitude and its poetic quality. One of the characteristics of poetry, of any art, is the bringing together of disparate elements and of arranging them into a harmonious whole. This usually involves entertaining contradiction. As W. B. Yeats famously put it, ‘We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.’15 This is one of the reasons why poetry can so often calm us where nothing else can, reflecting, as it does, the way in which each human life entertains enormous contradictions. Tim

in Unfolding Irish landscapes
Listening in/to Tim Robinson
Gerry Smyth

: Oxford World’s Classics, 1992), 192. 2 Martin Heidegger, ‘What Are Poets For?’ [1950a], in Poetry, Language,Thought, trans. by Albert Hofstader (New York: Perennial Library, 1971), 89–142 (139). 3 Tim Robinson, Connemara: Listening to the Wind (Dublin: Penguin, 2006), 1. 4 Robinson, Listening, 2 5 Robinson, Listening, 2. 6 Robinson, Listening, 3. 7 Robinson, Listening, 3. 8 Robinson, Listening, 3. 9 In so far as this is the case, one of Robinson’s intertexts  – a ‘precentor’ (one who sings before), so to speak – is the chapter entitled ‘Sounds’ in Henry David Thoreau

in Unfolding Irish landscapes
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Ireland’s ‘ABC of earth wonders’
Derek Gladwin and Christine Cusick

nodes of meaning, sound and experience pass between message and recorder in a more generative process of cartography and thereby depart from traditional forms used in colonial projects. In Pilgrimage, Robinson writes, But I find that in a map such points and the energy that accomplishes such fusions (which is that of poetry, not some vague ‘interdisciplinary’ fervour) can, at the most, be invisible guides, benevolent ghosts, through the tangles of the explicit; they cannot themselves be shown or named. So, chastened in my expectations of them, I now regard the Aran

in Unfolding Irish landscapes
Tim Robinson’s place in Irish Studies
Eamonn Wall

rewards because the discipline is enriched by the meeting of scholars across areas of inquiry. At the same time, we should not assume that the interdisciplinary is a breeding ground for chaos where historians become experts on poetry and literary critics provide the last word on agrarian conflict. For the most part, the disciplines remain discreetly apart while accommodating each other’s presence and expertise particularly at some of the crossroads points in Irish Studies – the 1916 Rising, for example. More than anything else, Irish Studies organisations function as

in Unfolding Irish landscapes
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John Elder

land. In an essay from The Spirit of the Age, William Hazlitt identified the genius of Wordsworth’s early poetry as ‘a proud humility’, taking ‘the commonest events and objects, as a test to prove that nature is always interesting from its inherent truth and beauty’.2 In the rapt attention Robinson brings to ‘the thousands of tiny trickles’ in a catchment, he similarly asserts the significance of a boggy region located far from any capital, and at the extreme western edge not only of Ireland but also of Europe. Catchments Figure 8  Map of Little Otter Creek in

in Unfolding Irish landscapes
Meg Holden

differentiates both work and labour from the third mode of being, action, is that both work and labour are primarily private activities. Action, by contrast, assumes and demands the public realm, which for Arendt constituted both a physical space and a means of reasoning. The ‘products’ of action in speech and in deeds, which together constitute the fabric of human social and political relationships and affairs, are reduced to thoughts – ‘labour’ – or, if written down in stories or poetry – ‘work’ – if they happen in the private rather than the public sphere. Left in private

in The power of pragmatism
Reading Tim Robinson through Gluaiseacht Chearta Sibhialta na Gaeltachta
Jerry White

, thousands of them still bring their poetry into everyday life’.3 The way that Robinson combines an awareness of how economic underdevelopment and language have been historically intertwined with an awareness of the everyday life of a specific community is, for lack of a better way of putting it, very Gluaiseacht. Another compelling reason for me to try to read Robinson though Gluaiseacht is because, despite its historical significance, I expect that very few people indeed would come to this essay and understand a flip statement like ‘it’s very Gluaiseacht’. My general

in Unfolding Irish landscapes
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The geographical imagination of Tim Robinson
Patrick Duffy

communal space of other local names, and have been recorded throughout Ireland in recent years in better resourced surveys and at larger scales than Robinson’s maps.29 Throughout Ireland, local place names have a poetry that rhymes with local identity and sense of belonging – names ‘that sigh like a pressed melodeon’ across the landscape in the words of poet John Montague. The names on Robinson’s maps ring with lyrical euphony too, and reflect an acute awareness of the local environment: Nead an Iolra, Log an Fhia, Meall an Fhathaigh, Gob an Damha, Caladh na hInse

in Unfolding Irish landscapes
Kelly Sullivan

the reader’s trust and complicity in the pursuit of the good step, Robinson creates a narrative drive through the otherwise overwhelming display of facts, history and nature. Pollard describes stupidity’s ‘rich temporality’ in relation to contemporary poetry, and this richness is equally applicable to Stones of Aran: ‘Stupidity is not the emptying out of history, a moment of stupefied ahistorical suspension; rather, it shows up as an excess of history; a dense jostling of accounts, happenings and narratives; a piling up of voices interrupting across the past and

in Unfolding Irish landscapes