37th out of 152 books
—
100 voters
Opened Ground: Selected Poems, 1966-1996
As selected by the author, Opened Ground includes the essential work from Heaney's twelve previous books of poetry, as well as new sequences drawn from two of his landmark translations, The Cure at Troy and Sweeney Astray, and several previously uncollected poems. Heaney's voice is like no other--"by turns mythological and journalistic, rural and sophisticated, r...more
Paperback, 464 pages
Published
October 25th 1999
by Farrar, Straus and Giroux
(first published 1998)
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I made this five stars in defiance of Michelle. I am THE Five Star Slut. And proud of it. But no...this is a brilliant collection of poetry. Seriously.
People in Northern Ireland rather think that Seamus Heaney – “Famous Seamus”, they say with irony – belongs to them. They feel he is close to them, expressing their everyday concerns. Even when he ventures into abstruse territory, for example, translating Beowulf or Antigone, Ulster people sense that even these texts express concerns they share with him.
Gaelic football is a big preoccupation in the area he was brought up. So when I found myself there discussing football, it was no s...more
Gaelic football is a big preoccupation in the area he was brought up. So when I found myself there discussing football, it was no s...more
It's the time of year when everything brings this poem into my head. I think Seamus Heaney has a brilliant ability to create momentum. Also, blackberry picking is one of my favorite things that I never do anymore.
Blackberry-Picking
Late August, given heavy rain and sun
For a full week, the blackberries would ripen.
At first, just one, a glossy purple clot
Among others, red, green, hard as a knot.
You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet
Lik...more
Blackberry-Picking
Late August, given heavy rain and sun
For a full week, the blackberries would ripen.
At first, just one, a glossy purple clot
Among others, red, green, hard as a knot.
You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet
Lik...more
As if we needed any proof that Seamus Heaney's Nobel Prize in Literature was well-deserved--the (somewhat abridged) collection of his volumes of poetry from 1966-1996, contained in Opened Ground prove this. Heaney's collected poems illustrate a discovery of (Irish) heritage, an awakening from childhood into adulthood, and an astounding awareness of the "little" things in life. From the opening poem--the well-known "Digging"--we are immediately immersed in Heaney's world of ...more
should really be on my "always reading shelf." i love his poetry. it's grounded, almost smelling of the earth (of his native irish soil), and gritty without being graphic or turning too hard an edge. in an interview following the publication of his new translation of beowulf, heaney talks of the old anglo-saxon poet and the warrior culture evoked in the poem. he speaks about the heart of the poet grieved by the cruelty of the world, the loss of home, of safety, of companions- a grief n...more
What does a Nobel Prize for poetry mean? Nothing unless it is accompanied by the kind of work Heaney has accomplished. Among my top 5 favorite poets ever, he may not appreciate my claim that he is a direct descendant of William Carlos Williams, but every poem has that same laser-like observation, that talent of looking into objects and scenes until they flower open into the world again. One could spend a life with this book.
Poems mostly on the strange and ambiguous spaces of everyday life, which I often found a bit too vague to be very moving. The language, though, is unbelievable. I've never read anyone who had such an amazing ear for the jagged music of the English tongue, nor such an ability to craft the hard-edged cadences of Anglo-Saxon speech.
This is vintage Heaney, of course, and Heaney is one of those poets who can never be anyone other than who he is and whose voice is so a part of him and his words and themes that opening this book is like being rushed by a wave of Heaniness. The images of Ireland: cold, foggy, soggy, boggy, and peat-covered, are the meat of his art, even when the subject is not explicitly Irish. That aesthetic is the prevailing one throughout. Heaney has an eye for the quotidian as quotidian; he doesn't have to ...more
Ike Sharpless
rated it
I'm not usually a poetry guy, but wow - this collection has some of the most striking, powerful, evocative language I've ever come across. Heaney is second to none (Well, maybe second to Nabokov - but the two styles are quite different) in the sheer knock-you-over force of his imagery.
A favorite: Oysters
"Our shells clacked on the plates.
My tongue was a filling estuary,
My palate hung with starlight:
As I tasted the salty Pleiades
Orion dipped his...more
A favorite: Oysters
"Our shells clacked on the plates.
My tongue was a filling estuary,
My palate hung with starlight:
As I tasted the salty Pleiades
Orion dipped his...more
It's on my read-over-and-over list along with Lord of the Rings, Great Expectations, Genesis, Song of Songs, King Lear (new to the list), and the dictionary.
If I could have a recording of someone saying all the Irish words and placenames, it would be complete.
Just released this year: a 13-CD set of Heaney reading his collected works. If you haven't heard him read:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wKGmQcSFb...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fNYBwF7lK...
...more
If I could have a recording of someone saying all the Irish words and placenames, it would be complete.
Just released this year: a 13-CD set of Heaney reading his collected works. If you haven't heard him read:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wKGmQcSFb...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fNYBwF7lK...
...more
Holly by Seamus Heaney
It rained when it should have snowed.
When we went to gather holly
the ditches were swimming, we were wet
to the knees, our hands were all jags
and water ran up our sleeves.
There should have been berries
but the sprigs we brought into the house
gleamed like smashed bottle-glass.
Now here I am, in a room that is decked
with the red-berried, waxy leafed stuff,
and I almost forg...more
It rained when it should have snowed.
When we went to gather holly
the ditches were swimming, we were wet
to the knees, our hands were all jags
and water ran up our sleeves.
There should have been berries
but the sprigs we brought into the house
gleamed like smashed bottle-glass.
Now here I am, in a room that is decked
with the red-berried, waxy leafed stuff,
and I almost forg...more
Though relatively new to poetry, I foresee Heaney remaining a favorite. He somehow has an uncanny penchant for turning his dark and swampy environments, superficially quite grotesque, into something appealing. Heaney has a profound passion for the sounds of words themselves, which is evident if you read his poems aloud. I most love the subtle intricacies of his storytelling and strong natural imagery, particularly "Death of a Naturalist" and, my personal favorite, "Personal Helico...more
It is, of course, pointless to mark a volume of poetry as "read." I will be returning to this volume, to read those poems yet undiscovered, to reread those that have touched me. This volume explores thirty years of Heaney's work; I enjoyed selecting a few from each era to compare and contrast how his writing and themes changed over time. Heaney is a storyteller, a weaver, a conjurer.
Very much love Seamus Heaney's work and this collection contains much of his very best. To be sure, there is plenty that I find obscure and difficult to penetrate (at least without a good teacher), but an equal number of poems with impeccable, compelling use of language that is completely accessible.
I discovered this collection of poems by way of a friend, and I recall reading Thatcher and thinking "Holy Shit This Is Good". Heaney's poetry has been like an old friend to me. Whenever I revisit him, it feels like wonderful three course meal, complete with a robust round of desserts. He's good.
Heaney's poetry feels much more real and earthy than I expect poetry to be. He can evoke an entire scene and mood in just a few words. Reading him makes me want to go to Ireland and see the strange, sad beauty that I imagine from his writing. When I do go to Ireland, I will definitely be bringing this book with me!
Glanmore Revisited from Seeing Things
Scrabble
Bare flags. Pump water. Winter-evening cold.
Our backs might never warm up but our faces
Burned from teh hearth-blaze and the hot whiskeys.
It felt remembered even then, an old
Rightness half-imagined or foretold,
As green stickes hissed and spat into the ashes
And whatever rampaged out there couldn't reach us,
Firelit, shuttered, slated and stone-walled.
Year after year, our game...more
Scrabble
Bare flags. Pump water. Winter-evening cold.
Our backs might never warm up but our faces
Burned from teh hearth-blaze and the hot whiskeys.
It felt remembered even then, an old
Rightness half-imagined or foretold,
As green stickes hissed and spat into the ashes
And whatever rampaged out there couldn't reach us,
Firelit, shuttered, slated and stone-walled.
Year after year, our game...more
The man's a genius. I wouldn't have understood a lot of the context had I not been taking a class focusing entirely on his life and work, but I'm so glad I did.
This was one of the 2000 RUSA Notable Books winners. For the complete list, go to http://ala.org/ala/mgrps/divs/rusa/award...
I'm not a reader of poetry books. I do like to read poems and there were some good ones in here but I have a hard time reading an entire book of poetry.
Melissa
marked it as to-read
Recommended in the 2011 Booklover's calendar, which says: "If you believe that poetry enhances life, this is a must read."
Nadine
added it
Didn't strictly read this, my sister loves Seamus Heaney and read out his poems to me before I came to love in London in 1992
speechless - Heaney is masterful - i think I will always be reading selections out of here, altho I have not picked it up for awhile...
I've read all the poems in here now, but I'm certainly not finished with them. I think they're terrific, even the ones I don't get, although I like best some of the most straightforward narratives and metaphors he offers. The Nobel lecture given at the end is good too; I like the emphasis on the importance of poetry, and us, remembering the positive note, not just ironically, even as we acknowledge all the good reasons for pessimism. I like the reading, along those lines, of a part of Yeats's Me...more
I've been dabbling around in this collection since Erin Hart read some of the poems in it in a presentation this spring at the Brainerd Library. ("What's in Your Writers Toolkit?") I was especially taken with "Digging". Last night I opened the collection at random and read p. 183-196 (Sweeney. Loved it. I'm not normally one to read long narrative poems but this was just very special and engaging and made me wonder about all the tales Heaney must have heard and collected befor...more
Cecelia
added it
I liked this but it was a pretty dense collection to take on
So far, Awesome. Heaney is rural Ireland with sophisticated poetics.
A great "selected." Nice heft and a good selection.
A beautiful collection from a modern master.
Laughter puddles and bog men come alive. So good.
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Seamus Justin Heaney is an Irish poet, writer and lecturer from County Derry, Ireland. He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1995, "for works of lyrical beauty and ethical depth, which exalt everyday miracles and the living past." He currently lives in Dublin.
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