{"id":164,"date":"2003-10-29T12:21:24","date_gmt":"2003-10-29T17:21:24","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=164"},"modified":"2024-10-27T14:57:07","modified_gmt":"2024-10-27T18:57:07","slug":"curse-the-pope-of-rome","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=164","title":{"rendered":"Paul Muldoon: “Curse the Pope of Rome”"},"content":{"rendered":"

Extended post on Oxblog<\/a> by Patrick Belton about Paul Muldoon<\/b>, specifically, and Irish poets in general.<\/p>\n

I heard Nuala Ni Dhomhnaill <\/a>read her work at the Ireland House, here in New York. She only writes in Irish. “I can’t hear the poetry in English.” So Nuala talked about her process, she described what was going on with her when writing each poem, she gave a brief synopsis of the poem, all in English – and then she launched into the Irish language for the poem itself. And dammitall, if you couldn’t get her exact meaning.<\/p>\n

Patrick at Oxblog: You must ask Muldoon out for a pint, and then tell us all how it goes.<\/p>\n

Thanks for a very unexpected post – a topic which is very dear to my heart.<\/p>\n

Here’s a bit of Paul Muldoon:<\/p>\n

“The Sightseers”<\/p>\n

My father and mother, my brother and sister
\nand I, with uncle Pat, our dour best-loved uncle,
\nhad set out that Sunday afternoon in July
\nin his broken-down Ford<\/p>\n

not to visit some graveyard — one died of shingles,
\none of fever, another’s knees turned to jelly —
\nbut the brand-new roundabout at Ballygawley,
\nthe first in mid-Ulster.<\/p>\n

Uncle Pat was telling us how the B-Specials
\nhad stopped him one night somewhere near Ballygawley
\nand smashed his bicycle<\/p>\n

and made him sing the Sash and curse the Pope of Rome.
\nThey held a pistol so hard against his forehead
\nthere was still the mark of an O when he got home.<\/p>\n

\n