Seamus Heaney’s Journey Of The Soul

25th October

For over forty years Seamus Heaney has dug deep with his pen into the psyche of Ulster, exploring cultural identities and Ireland’s troubled past. He has been awarded numerous accolades over the years and added another to his collection earlier this month when Heaney’s twelfth volume of poetry, Human Chain, was awarded the Forward Prize for Best Collection. The prestige surrounding a poet of Heaney’s stature was echoed by that of Whitworth Hall itself, and with its neo-Gothic architecture, swooping chandeliers and wood panelling, it’s difficult to think of a venue in Manchester more befitting a former Nobel Laureate.

As he stood at his lectern wearing a sombre charcoal suit, Heaney’s white hair contrasted sharply against an imposing backdrop of grey organ pipes. A lone spotlight shone directly onto his books and it looked almost as though what he was reading from had turned into gold. In his own words, Heaney was about to take his audience on a ‘journey of the soul’ which would recount old and new poems along the way, with his father emerging as a central figure on that journey. In his opening address, Heaney was quick to point out his literary roots with Manchester, as it was in Didsbury that he had some of his earliest works published in a literary magazine set up by Harry Chambers. He also heaped praises on the university’s Centre for New Writing which he said has cultured some of the best Irish poets of recent years.

Heaney is himself an inspiration to many poets, partly because he has a gift for making the ordinary extraordinary, and this was demonstrated in his opening prefatory poem to Human Chain, entitled ‘Had I Not Been Awake’. The lyric poem is about a wind, ‘A courier blast that there and then / Lapsed ordinary’ which rouses the poet from his sleep, acting as a metaphorical vehicle to showcase how acutely sensitive Heaney has become to his surroundings following a stroke in 2006.

Heaney admitted that the poems in Human Chain had been written more quickly than any other works which had preceded it, and by way of contrast the next poem to be read out was ‘Personal Helicon’ taken from his first collection, Death of A Naturalist. Dedicated to his close friend, the Irish poet Michael Longley, ‘Personal Helicon’ is one of the first poems in his journey of the soul, and recounts from memory a young Heaney aged one, playing by a well and tapping into a world of identity that he has little comprehension for, but is beginning to hear echoes of: “To stare bug-eyed Narcissus into some spring / Is beneath all adult dignity. I rhyme / To see myself, to set the darkness echoing.”

The following group of poems which Heaney recited: ‘Mossbawn: Sunlight’, ‘A Sofa in the Forties’, ‘Two Lorries’ and ‘A Constable Calls’ were all set in his childhood home on the farm at Mossbawn, County Derry. In the late 1960s when Heaney was establishing himself as a poet, his memories of the 1940s overlap with those of the Troubles that were about to begin in 1969:

Oh, dream of red plush and a city coalman

As time fastforwards and a different lorry

Groans into shot, up Broad Street, with a payload

That will blow the bus station to dust and ashes. (Two Lorries ll.20-23)

Heaney’s reading shifted its focus intermittently from innocent childhood memories to a more immediate present, as he touched upon recent events in Northern Ireland and the resurgence of Irish terrorism of which he said: “the danger is still tick, tick, ticking away.” Danger also lurked in ‘The Tollund Man’ which he composed after being gripped by photographs of mummified peat bodies in P.V. Glob’s The Bog People. Throughout his career Heaney has been inspired to write poetry which examines the bog myth, concerning whether or not the bodies were victims of sacrificial rites, and during his recital he posed the question, “Did they fall or were they pushed?” He went on to explain that ‘The Tollund Man’ had been written around the time of the first killings during 1969 and he explained that the poets of The Belfast group, to which he and Michael Longley belonged, “felt the pressure of public events and the unease of private writings.” For Heaney, The Tollund Man is a poem that attempted to address the dichotomy between public and private. This was something he went on to add had also vexed WB Yeats’ soul many years earlier in ‘Easter 1916’ when he had asked, “O when may it suffice?”

It was the figure of his father Patrick, who Heaney turned to next in his recital and whom he movingly referenced in ‘The Harvest Bow’, ‘Uncoupled’, ‘The Conway Stewart’ and ‘The Butts.’ Over the years Heaney’s father has taken on various significances, whether it be the silent figure of ‘The Harvest Bow’ or that of the farmer in ‘Uncoupled’. In ‘The Butts’, whose title Heaney joked “means different things in different places,” the frail body of his father acts as a poignant reminder of the soul’s mortality. But as often is the case with Heaney, there is cause for joy and celebration to be found in the darkest of subject matters. Referring to the stroke he suffered in 2006, Heaney said that while in hospital he thought about the incident in the New Testament when the paralytic is brought in for healing by Christ. He observed that it was the people who carried him in and looked after him there that were central to the tale, and this he admitted inspired his poem, ‘Miracle’ from Human Chain.

Heaney also had a point to make about ‘The door was open and the house was dark’ – a poem which he said came to him as a dream. Written in memorial of his friend David Hammond, the poem captures a precise moment in time of knowing when something is not quite right, it also confronts a fear of any soul’s journey, that of death itself: “I felt, for the first time there and then, a stranger, / Intruder almost, wanting to take flight.”

For his penultimate reading, Heaney chose ‘In the Attic’, a lyric poem from Human Chain inspired by the view of a birch tree from his attic window. It invokes the power of imagination, something which Heaney has thankfully not been robbed of following his stroke. The poem is split into four parts, the first opening with references to Treasure Island and closing on an image of the wind, the motif which had opened the collection: “It’s not that I can’t imagine still / That slight untoward rupture and world-tilt / As a wind freshened and the anchor weighted.”

The evening, and the Manchester Literature Festival itself, came to a close with ‘Postscript’ a poem taken from The Spirit Level, published in 1995, the same year he won the Nobel Prize in Literature. With its images of wild swans, the poem contains yet another reference to Yeats, whom alongside Irish poet Patrick Kavanagh, he holds in the highest of regards. ‘Postscript’ again made reference to wind in the closing lines which beckoned the audience to, “catch the heart off guard and blow it open.” The wind motif in Heaney’s poetry acts like memories that whistle and swirl into the mind, Heaney said of it himself that: “Wind reminds us that we are to enjoy every minute.”

For over an hour the audience listened, enraptured by the dulcet tones of Heaney’s Northern Irish accent, enjoying every minute. Heaney captured the imagination of everyone present, taking their souls on a journey through his poetry, intertwining the old with the new and contrasting the fears of a nation with those of his own personal struggle. ‘Human Chain’, like so much of his oeuvre is about the passing on and transmission of humanity, whether it be knowledge, love or memory. And as the chilly winds of Manchester brushed against the faces of those leaving the warmth of Whitworth Hall, they may have been left wondering when Seamus Heaney will next grace the city with his presence.

by Catherine Fearn

Catherine writes a blog called The Poplar Tree – one of Manchester’s literature-orientated blogs which includes editorial features on authors, reviews of books, films and anything in-between, such as TV programmes and current affairs.

Sight Specific – Art and Storytelling

23rd October

With Manchester Art Gallery’s collection comprising some 25,000 items spanning 600 years of culture, there is plenty of inspiration to be found at the Mosley Street venue. Saturday’s event saw students of the University of Manchester’s Centre for New Writing presenting poetry and stories responding to paintings and objects located in four of the Gallery’s impressive rooms.

Simon Haworth gave the first reading of the hour-long morning tour. Responding to Dutch Baroque painter Quirijn van Brekelenkam’s Interior with a Lady Choosing Fish (1664), his poem eloquently conveyed the imagined thoughts of a woman depicted in the domestic scene. Simon’s original poem was accompanied by a reading and synopsis of the verse of Northern Irish poet Derek Mahon, a source of particular influence in his studies.

Moving from the 17th Century into the Pre-Raphaelite Gallery, there were prose contributions from Reshma Ruia and Beth Daley in response to John Frederick Lewis’s The Coffee Bearer (1857) and John Everett Millais’s Autumn Leaves (1856). Reshma told a bold tale in language of biblical expressiveness, weaving an account of an incident in the life of the coffee bearer into the story of the Crucifixion. Kate’s piece centred on the imagined dialogue between the four girls shown in Millais’s sombre, supernatural painting. Drawing on the girls’ apparent isolation from each other, Kate provided an interesting viewpoint on a scene interpreted as contemplating the transience of youth.

Sarah Corbett’s poem responded to the curious yet affectionately-crafted dollhouse, or rather ‘frog house’, forming part of the Mary Greg Collection in the Gallery of Craft and Design. As the Gallery guide explains, Greg appears to have been a compulsive collector, and Sarah interpreted the labour of love that was creating the bizarre diorama, made using real frogs, as a poem told from the perspective of Greg’s husband. Veronica Turiano’s story responded to the nearby Theatre of Life creation. With a poignant air of innocence, her narrative considered the nature of mortality through a child’s conversation with her grandfather, a relationship that Veronica had wished to write about for some time before the Art Gallery activity gave her a specific focus.

Wrapping up the tour in the Modern and Contemporary Gallery, Nicholas Murgatroyd’s story centred on the power, projection and perception of loneliness. In a tale of creeping menace, at the point of conclusion the ill-fated protagonist disappears into one of Spanish artist Juan Muñoz’s uncomfortably appealing Blotter Figures. This was an appropriate story with which to end the session, as much of it replicated the listener’s experience of a visit to Manchester Art Gallery.

Seeking not simply to describe an object or scene illustrated in a painting, through their poetry and fiction all six student writers succeeded in establishing fascinating narratives. Enabling members of the public to talk with them in the presence of their subject artworks made for a very engaging tour. Indeed, it would have been a pleasure to spend an entire afternoon in the company of the talented and inventive apprentices of the Centre for New Writing.

by David Stedman

David studied English language and literature at the University of Manchester. He is a regular contributor to Manchester’s CityLifers music website.

Pushing Boundaries – Bewilderbliss and Corridor8

Cornerhouse, 18th October

Day 5 of the Manchester Literarature Festival opens with talks and readings from the editors and writers from two independent literary success stories: Bewilderbliss and Corridor8.

Whilst their content is markedly different, their mission statement is sharply in harmony: to push the boundaries of literary and artistic output, providing a mouthpiece for up-and-coming (and occasionally more established) local talent within the North. The event itself is in the relatively new, oak-beamed annexe of The Cornerhouse cinema. It is only a 55-seater venue for today but in no time at all, the seats have all been filled and a crowd of perspiring bodies is beginning to huddle together at the back of the room, testament to the popularity of these two publications, especially considering that this is a week-day, lunchtime talk.

Bewilderbliss kick off proceedings with a talk given by the two outgoing editors, John and Matt, who, in turn, inherited the publication from a previous team formed from the pool of creative talent at both the writing school at MMU and the Centre for New Writing at Manchester University. It is this process of a literary magazine that is regularly “bequeathed” to new blood that perhaps keeps it so fresh, and looking at the editions of the magazine that are on sale, one can clearly see a sense of progression and evolution, the physical product, over time, moving more towards an aesthetically pleasing publication. It becomes apparent that this is a deliberate motivation for the editors, shifting towards a magazine which the consumer would feel “proud to have on their bookshelf.” In fact, after the hand-over, the new editors’ first task was to reduce the 250-copy print-run to a run just over 100, thus allowing them to improve the overall aesthetic quality.

As pointed out, the magazine is enthusiastically committed to the lively literary sphere in Manchester but it also becomes clear that it is also interested in the dark, edgy underbelly of society and of the creative arts, an element conveyed by the readings themselves: a bleakly atmospheric tale of a child’s funeral, the mother-narrator barely able to conceal her seething anger and guilt; poetry dealing with the inevitable, wrenching collapse of a too-intense relationship (as the poet himself says, “Another poem to slit your wrists to); and, in a particularly vivid contribution, a surreal modern fairytale of a mysterious sweet-stall marketer who captures the townsfolk in her thrall through the bizarre, addictive and magical properties of the sweetmeats she sells.

Next up is Corridor8 who, despite being slightly more mainstream due to its Arts Council funding, still continue to be innovative and daring. The floor is held, chiefly, by leonine-haired editor Roger McKinley with occasional corrective blurts from his publisher and partner in the magazine, Michael Butterworth. McKinley’s opening gambit is an apology for his poor public speaking, yet he proves to be a charming, anecdotal orator.

Corridor8 (taking its name from the fact that Butterworth’s previous 1960’s publication, Corridor, ended its limited run on issue 7) is very much committed to crossing the boundary between literature and conceptual art. McKinley’s first foray into this arena was his project, Jackson Pollock: The Musical, published by Butterworth and marking the start of their current working relationship.

The primary focus of the magazine (the first edition of which being an impressive large-scale collage of breathtaking photography and literary articles concerning the “supercity corridor” between Liverpool and Hull) is to encourage and develop art and literature in the North of England. Their next edition, which is out next Monday and significantly more “pocket-sized”, will deal with issues outside of the “urban” landscape, focusing more on the rural “borderlands”, the residences where isolation and “break-downs” can occur. To highlight this, Ian McGuire, lecturer in creative writing at the Centre for New Writing, performs a reading from a new short story due to be published in the aforementioned second issue of Corridor8.

The editors freely admit that including fiction, rather than literary non-fiction, is new territory for them but that this constant exploration of different possibilities is the driving force behind the magazine. This story is a triumph, satirically detailing the plight of a blocked writer who is commissioned to isolate himself in a rural cave in order to write a think-piece about the nature of place and existence. More than once the audience are reduced to tears of laughter through McGuire’s subtle wit and deadpan delivery, and we are tantalisingly left wanting more.

In the current climate of radical cuts to arts funding and the ever-looming governmental spending review, it is essential that publications like Bewilderbliss and Corridor8 keep on fighting, keep on creating, keep on thriving, providing new ways to entertain and engage their audiences and today’s event highlights just how important the independent publishing sector is to the development and sustenance of culture in our society.

by Matt Colbeck

Matt Colbeck is currently studying for his PhD in English Literature at the University of Sheffield. He can be frequently seen performing in his band CreepJoint around the Midlands: www.myspace.com/creepjointmusic

“The Richard Dawkins in Colin Firth’s jockstrap” and other stories

On Monday, 11th October, Martin Amis and BAFTA-winning screenwriter Andrew Davies took to the stage for another MLF warm-up event, presented by The Centre for New Writing at The University of Manchester, to discuss the impact of Literature on Film. Guest blogger Jennie Shorley was there to witness this very special event. Here's what she made of it:

The University of Manchester’s wonderfully named Cosmo Rodenwald concert hall is large enough to stage a symphony orchestra. But tonight it hosts just two literary luminaries; the infamous Martin Amis and Andrew Davies, screenwriter and adaptor of THE Pride and Prejudice, Bridget Jones, and more importantly to this audience member, 80s kids TV series Marmalade Atkins.

Martin Amis is professor of Creative Writing at the Centre for New Writing at the University of Manchester. He is a critically acclaimed novelist and thinker, and named in The Times’ 2008 list of the 50 Greatest Writers since 1945. He is famed for acerbity and dyspeptic criticism, so we are expecting some fireworks.

Through the audience’s anticipatory hubbub, there is division of opinion as to what tonight will hold – academic fight, intellectual love-in, or deep praise of Clueless?

Both men are introduced with great praise; Andrew Davies as the “most renowned practitioner of adaptation in our times” followed by a list of his Emmys, Baftas and British Academy Fellowship. Amis is similarly acclaimed, for his university colleague “one of the best things about being around this university is bumping into him”.

Amis sets out his anecdotal stall from the beginning; we will not hear discussion and argument, but rather Ronnie Corbett-esque tales from the writer’s chair. He is obviously the home-team and the opener for Davies as the visiting act; although his literary prowess and reputation are no less impressive for that, and his drawling insights soon draw laughs from the audience.

He has, we learn, interviewed Steven Spielberg, Sydney Lumiere and Brian de Palma; the latter did not go down well, and received an acidic review. Amis has also written science fiction for film, including Saturn 3, starring Kirk Douglas, Farrah Fawcett and Harvey Keitel. Jokes run through this narrative, peppered by warning against the lack of literary freedom, both commercial and collaborative, when writing for film.

Running through Amis’ memories is the distinction between his creative Englishness and the brash commercial interests of Hollywood. Movie stars appear to hold a general obsession with nakedness; we hear of Kirk Douglas’ demands for nude and sex scenes, and Harvey Keitel being uncomfortably comfortable with his top off in meetings. There is a real sense of delicate art being crushed, but also a palpable sense of excitement and awe at meeting the stellar personalities of Hollywood film; we hear that Travolta has a limousine to travel 10 yards to lunch.

Andrew Davies agrees with the lack of importance of the author in Hollywood, and follows in the same vein, with stories of evil agents and fawning producers claiming, “we haven’t read anything he’s written, but we love it”. His nationality dictates that he is plied with wine (apparently we all drink a lot of it…), until he sends the first script through, and they want to dump him.

Davies briefly discusses possibly his biggest movie hit, Bridget Jones, and rather neatly proves his own point about the writer’s unimportance by forgetting the name of its author. He then moves on to what seems to be the much more comfortable and enjoyable ground of TV adaptations, and in particular, 1995’s Pride and Prejudice. The contrast is dramatic; here as an adaptor, he has “not total autonomy, but (is) the lead person.” He was motivated to undertake the project by outrage at others’ bad adaptations of the novel, and strongly believed in bringing out the sexual attraction between Mr Darcy and Elizabeth, including the wet shirt scene; the defining image of the series.

And sex is once again a theme of the anecdotes; Davies describes P&P as a “pre Darwinian novel”, Darcy’s rationality failing under the evolutionary weight of sexual desire for the vibrant Elizabeth. Davies terms it “the Richard Dawkins in his jockstrap”.

Both men clearly love Austen; their dialogue about readings of Emma and Pride and Prejudice inspire me to re-read the whole corpus; personally, it is the most engaging part of the show.

As the lights come up for questions, the intimate fireside story element is lost. It is clear that many audience members are amateur writers, eager for sound advice from industry professionals.

Overall, the event is not at all what I expected; the exchange is one of friendly, funny anecdotes, and not what I had anticipated from Amis. His anecdotes are peppered with lament for the role of the writer in film and television, and a simple love of literature and its creative art.

As Amis terms it, the “god-like freedom” of the writer may be trampled by crazy demands from Hollywood stars, but as both men have proved with the laughter rippling the audience from their anecdotes, sex sells.

Jennie Shorley studied Classics and Ancient World Studies at The University of Manchester and works for Manchester Metropolitan University Business School.

CK Williams: distinguished yet unassuming

CK Williams’ poetry is lyrical, elegant and powerful. A National Book Critics Circle Award and Pulitzer Prize winner, he currently teaches in the Creative Writing Program at his native New Jersey’s Princeton University.

During a literary career spanning some forty years, Williams’ attention has regularly turned to the foremost issues of the day. Among a remarkable range of themes, his early verse offers a commentary on the tragedy of the Vietnam conflict and, closer to home, the struggles of the civil rights movement. While continuing to address such social topics, his later work leans towards the personal, exploring the subtleties of human relationships with an illuminating eye.

The understated Martin Harris Centre is an excellent venue for tonight’s reading, as Williams is perhaps the most distinguished, yet unassuming writer participating in this year’s Manchester Literature Festival. Opening with poems from the collections Tar and The Vigil, Williams gives an account of the moment he realised that he wanted to express himself through poetry, ‘leaning from the window, incanting in a tearing whisper,’ as captured in ‘My Mother’s Lips’. The apocalyptic ‘Storm’ which follows offers a chilling vision of the impact of global warming, while the unlikely grace of the middle-aged woman depicted in ‘The Dance’ draws on a lighter moment of reflection.

Williams’ delivery is warm and full of character. Noted for his unusually long, prose-like verse, his reading brings the story within each poem flashing into life. Adept at placing the listener directly into a scene, ‘The Singing’ and the stunning ‘This Happened’ prove to be particular highlights.

Concluding with poems from his most recent collection, Wait, a brief round of questions enables the audience to learn a little more about the man himself. Responding to whether he felt there was any subject into which poetry should not ‘poke its head’, Williams says, quite simply, ‘no’. His wry brevity speaks volumes for his passion, and raises smiles.

Affable and engaging throughout the hour-long session, Williams’ occasionally poignant verse never veers into the sentimental. Those in attendance leave the John Thaw Studio Theatre with a sense of having taken part in an intimate, stimulating and enjoyable event.

Official CK Williams website: www.ckwilliams.com

David Stedman studied English language and literature at the University of Manchester. He is a regular contributor to Manchester’s CityLifers music website.