The Sheila Variations

The ship in the air

Clonmacnoise is a spectacular old monastery in Ireland (it's right off the N6 - the road that takes you from Dublin to Galway - If you're ever in Ireland, I have got to tell you: Go to Clonmacnoise!)

There's a graveyard, with tilting high crosses up and down the green. There's a crumbling tower, a crumbling structure placed out beyond on a small mound, and off to the left is a river, and marshes. The water is rather wide there, as I recall, and there are amazing sky reflections. Or at least there can be, and there were when Jean and I went.

The place is magic.

(Oh, and there's also a "fertility statue" within the monastery which has my name - one of the famous Sile na gigs - the statues who sit there in rather improper legs-spread poses, and they are believed to have fertile powers, and women and men used to come to the monastery, to rub the Sile na gig, in the hopes that they would get pregnant.)

It's a rich place.

The water, the sky, the crumbling stones, the high crosses on the green, the reflections ...

Now, there is an old legend about the place and here is how it goes:

Long long ago, when there were still monks living and working in the monastery, back when Christianity was in a much younger phase ... one day a ship appeared. The monastery is next to a river, but this ship was not in the river. It floated by in the sky. All the monks saw it. (Interesting - when you go to Clonmacnoise, you can see at least one of the reasons why this legend makes sense. The water reflects the sky in such a way that they blend together like a watercolor ... it is difficult to distinguish between the two. But anyway, back to the mystery): The monks were at prayers, they looked up, and watched the ship float by in the sky. Then, out of the ship, came a massive anchor, which fell to the ground, and hooked itself at the bottom of their altar. This was a mistake, it wasn't supposed to catch on anything, and so ... the ship finds itself stuck, it cannot go forward.

A sailor clambered himself down the rope, to try to un-hook the anchor. And, of course, he began to drown. The monks realized this, and hurried to let the anchor go, and they helped the man back up to the ship.

And then - the ship in the air sailed away.

I love this legend. There's something so spectacular about it. There's something essentially mysterious and un-knowable about it. I also love it because if you go there (especially during twilight, or early morning, when no one else is there) you will almost be able to see that ship in the air. Or, at least, it is not difficult to believe that someone WOULD see a ship in the air. It makes perfect sense.

Seamus Heaney wrote a MARVELOUS poem about Clonmacnoise and this legend - it is included in a larger group of poems called 'Lightenings', and the poem itself has no name.

Of all that he has written (all of which I love), this poem might be my favorite. It involves no verbal pyrotechnics, nothing clever, nothing too difficult - it tells the story I just told in a very straightforward way (except it's in verse).

But the last line, people. The last line. Therein lies the magic of Seamus Heaney.

The annals say: when the monks of Clonmacnoise
Were all at prayers inside the oratory
A ship appeared above them in the air.

The anchor dragged along behind so deep
It hooked itself into the altar rails
And then, as the big hull rocked to a standstill,

A crewman shinned and grappled down the rope
And struggled to release it. But in vain.
'This man can't bear our life here and will drown,'

The abbot said, 'unless we help him.' So
They did, the freed ship sailed, and the man climbed back
Out of the marvellous as he had known it.

Posted by sheila