Let’s discuss your anthology, What Remains the Same.
This is a compilation of verses that delve into themes of bereavement, familial separation and the lasting impacts of an abusive upbringing. The collective contents of the book seek to explore wonder and the different ways we can find comfort in our surroundings.
Does poetry serve as a medium that gives voice to previously unspoken truths, much like your mother’s non-published poetry which transforms the shattered into beautiful, by extracting unintended meanings from every situation?
The concept of absolute truth is unachievable, while silence is inevitable. A quote from Annie Ernaux resonates with me, “Gradually or all of a sudden, silence breaks and words, finally acknowledged, gush out, as new silences start to build below.”
The most intricate and haunting memories often lose their veracity when recalled and can get entangled in a narrative’s structure. Poetry appears to extract and reconstruct the core essence of these experiences.
Your anthology is divided into four sections. What was the inspiration behind this structure and the sequence?
It was purely intuitive.
In terms of theme and style, how does your current work deviate from your previous collections – The men I keep under my bed (2021) and Falling in love with broken things (2016)?
Each collection is distinctly different. Although my voice has remained somewhat consistent, albeit matured over time, the ethos behind the poems remain interconnected.
You were taught by an indifferent national school teacher nearing retirement, who enjoyed having students recite poetry.
Perhaps it would be more accurate to say poetry was the only thing that truly piqued my interest.
You penned a blog, With All the Finesse of a Badger, discussing your rural upbringing in Ireland (Galway and Tipperary) and identified yourself as a writer “long before it was appropriate”. Can you elaborate on this?
I became a writer at the tender age of seven.
Your work was first published by Elizabeth Reapy’s Wordlegs, along with many young authors. How significant was this for you?
While Wordlegs played a role, there was an entire support network that assisted me in finding my ground. Entities that contributed to my perseverance through their space or support included Over the Edge (Kevin Higgins and Susan Millar DuMars), The Monday Echo (Aidan Murphy) and The Dublin Writers’ Forum (Anne Tannam and Fiona Bolger).
Drawing inspiration from online critics in response to your poem about the traumatic incident of rape you encountered, you scripted Unsolicited Advice from a Failed Male Poet. You were firm and youthful, believing that others might have experienced a similar tragedy.
The Cantankerous Molly Darling, a children’s book you authored, features a prominent character: a rooster named Lady Macbeth.
Considered the most ineffective rejection you’ve received, someone suggested giving one of the characters a terminal illness. Ironically, another recommendation linked to Irish publishers’ list with the suggestion, “this website might be beneficial”.
Living in diverse environments like Louisiana, South Korea, and Vancouver exposed you to unique histories and cultures, maturing you and instilling an appreciation for your native Ireland. The rich experiences run deep within you.
You take a systemic approach to your work, focusing on individual poems and pages. Major projects aren’t typically your preference.
Though you’ve never intentionally embarked on a literary pilgrimage, you are drawn to words of wisdom. Particularly, Jane Hirshfield’s advice, “Everything transforms; everything interlinks; remain alert,” resonates with you.
Kind, courageous individuals earn your admiration. If given supreme power for a day, you’d outlaw the concept of supreme leaders.
In terms of contemporary recommendations, despite not being up-to-date you recommend: The Solace of Artemis from Paula Meehan; Aftersun by Charlotte Wells; and the Poetry Unbound podcast from Pádraig Ó Tuama.
The referendum for marriage equality greatly impacted you. The most extraordinary locations you’ve visited include Sorokdo in South Korea and Inishturk on Mayo’s coastline.
Your most cherished belonging is a teddy bear from your inaugural Christmas. As for visual beauty, a book of Kandinsky artistry stands out in your library.
As for the authors I’d invite to a dream dinner party, whether they’re amongst the living or not, I wouldn’t want to have that kind of party at all. Too much pressure.
The best part about my dwelling? It has a rich historical background, built back in the 1830s. The flip side is I always forget to turn off the immersion heater.
Do you have a favourite quote? Mine is taken from a full-length, profound poem by Mary Oliver, The Leaf and the Cloud, and can be found on the internet in complete form. The Flare segment is profoundly moving, but here are just a couple of lines where she describes her parents: “But I will not give them the kiss of complicity. / I will not give them the responsibility for my life.”
A favourite fictional persona of mine? Clearly, Martha Quest! She’s a character from Doris Lessing’s semi-autobiographical pentalogy, the Children of Violence series.
Looking for a book that can incite laughter? It’s quite personal really but Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan Series does bring a smile to my face, every single time.
I should recommend a book that could possibly draw tears? My choice mightn’t cause crying, but definitely a sense of wonder: Marie Howe’s What the Living Do.
The book What Remains the Same is currently available for purchase at the Gallery Press.