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Daddy, daddy
Critically acclaimed for his vibrant and eclectic "poetry of the present moment", Paul Durcan is one of the most dramatically intense modern Irish poets. Drawing its strength from its urgent treatment of a wide range of contemporary subject matter, Durcan's poetry is striking for the subtlety and strangeness of its unique imagery.In Daddy, Daddy Durcan pushes out in a radical new direction. Fusing the personal with the political, his angry response to violence and oppression in poems such as "The Murder of Harry Keyes" and "Shanghai, June 1989" is incisive and humane. Here also are love poems of all manner and kind; bizarre meditations on the nature of loneliness; and poems of celebration of writers and artists like Primo Levi, Sylvia Plath, and Paul Cezanne.Durcan also embarks on an exploration of his relationship with his father, creating poetry that is compelling in its probing artistry and painful honesty.
- GenresPoetryIrish Literature
192 pages, Paperback
First published August 1, 1990
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
April 22, 2016
I am been reading this collection of poetry on and off since I was first assigned to read this for an Irish literature class I took during my last semester at college. Durcan has caught my attention since I first approached "Self Portrait, Nude with Steering Wheel." Another poem that stuck out was "Mary Magdalene at Sunday Mass in Castlebar," where Durcan thinks outside the box with the way we view Magdalene and how things really took place between her and Christ, creating what truly is an ongoing misunderstanding. The last part of this collection, titled Daddy, Daddy, includes poems that center around the way Durcan views the role of his father and places him in various situations. Most of these situations include his father's death or aging to the point his father is at death.
What I like most about Paul Durcan's poetry is his ability to be blunt and not afraid to speak his mind on any subject. What he has to say about his "daddy" is just so strange, but so excusable if you are looking at the different scenarios he is being placed. I would say that most of these poems caught my attention and they read clearly on the contingency that you approach them thoroughly. Many of these poems are free verse and tell a story, which I enjoy, yet they also possess the essence of what one (myself included) looks for when they are reading poetry. If you are looking for some more poetry to read and Irish poetry to be specific, this collection is worth your time. It gets strange, but it's delightful!
What I like most about Paul Durcan's poetry is his ability to be blunt and not afraid to speak his mind on any subject. What he has to say about his "daddy" is just so strange, but so excusable if you are looking at the different scenarios he is being placed. I would say that most of these poems caught my attention and they read clearly on the contingency that you approach them thoroughly. Many of these poems are free verse and tell a story, which I enjoy, yet they also possess the essence of what one (myself included) looks for when they are reading poetry. If you are looking for some more poetry to read and Irish poetry to be specific, this collection is worth your time. It gets strange, but it's delightful!
July 23, 2008
Membaca puisi di buku ini kita akan melahap satir dan sejenisnya. Kalimatnya cenderung narasi prosaik daripada puitik. "So Irish" buat saya yang tahunya Irlandia itu via The Corrs, Cranberries, dan U2.
Salah satu yang nempel di kepala adalah puisi:
A Vision of Democracy in the Country of Meath
When I got up this morning, I went out
to look at the rain. I had planned
to spend the morning with my gun,
thinking the story of my life.
But I saw that it was raining
And I decided to go out and have a look at the rain.
What struck me about the rain was how lit up,
Illuminated and fluorescent it was,
A bright rain of democracy.
The sky was grey as sheep
And tumbling over itself on low legs
But the rain was wearing lights under its tights
And strip lightning in the stitching of its jackets.
I saw in the park in front of the house
A singer sewing machine freshly painted in black.
Its treadle was pumping up and down.
When a woman who was sitting at it saw me look at her
She looked up and shaking her head a little
She smiled and shook her head a little again and stated:
'I am just an ordinary democrat',
And when I looked as if
I was about to reach for a quiver of words
She repeated herself without emphasis:
'I am just an ordinary democrat -
Take me as I am or not at all.'
I began to walk across the park towards her,
Ready to hand in my gun, ready to vote,
Ready to vanish, ready to disappear,
Wanting only to be her servant i all things great and small.
I will take you as you are or not at all.
Sejauh ini, puisi itu dan tiga puisi lain (The Christies Foxhunters Chase over Three Miles and Two Furlongs, Felicity in Turin, dan Ulysses). Untuk Puisi Ulysses saya menyukai peperangan yang ada didalamnya. Peperangan antara "money vs the so called 'morals'"
Ulysses
I am hiding from my father
On the roof of Joyces's Tower
In Sandycove.
He is downstairs in the gloom
of the Joyce Museum
Exchanging euphemisms with the curator,
The Poet Michael Hartnett,
Meteorological euphemisms,
Wet and cold for June.
I am standing at the battlements.
I am eighteen years old.
The battle is whether or not
He will buy a copy of Ulysses.
It is a battle about money
But it is a battle also about morality
Or 'moral' as it is called.
It began this morning at the breakfast table
When I asked him for twenty-one shillings
To buy a copy of Ulysses.
He refused on the grounds that on top
Of it being an outrageous sum of money
Which a poorly paid judge could ill afford,
It was a notoriously immoral book.
Even the most liberal-minded Jesuits
Had condemned Ulysses.
As being blasphemous as well as pornographic.
My mother jumped around from the kitchen sink:
'Give him the money for the wretched book
And let the pair of you stop this nonsense
For pity's sake.
Will we ever see peace and sense in this house?'
My father stormed out of the kitchen
The Irish Independent under his arm:
'I'll not be party to subsidising that blackguard
Bringing works of blasphemy into this house.
In the year of Our Lord nineteen hundred and sixty-three
I will not be an accessory to blasphemy."
...
Pertempuran bapak dan anak mengenai perkara moral dan uang itu serasa mengingatkan jaman dahulu kala. Ketika saya dalam posisi si bapak, yang lebih itung-itungan soal duit berhadapan dengan seorang kawan yang bersemangat dalam penerbitan. Namun yang menuding pihak lawan soal moralitas bukan saya, kawan saya itu yang menuding saya. Katanya, ketakutan dan terlalu perhitungannya saya layak disandingkan dengan immoralitas.
Ah, saya bukannya tidak panas dan tidak ingin membalas mengatakan dia juga tidak bermoral dengan menyalahgunakan semangat demi suatu tindakan yang hitungannya tidak matang. Saya cuma berpikir pada waktu itu, untuk tidak melakukan perbuatan sia-sia. Betul kawan saya yang lain, yang selalu menasehati bila ada kawannya akan menghina orang lain "tidak baik menghina orang....yang sudah hina." (hehehe maaf kawan yang sedang digosipkan saat ini).
Namun akhir puisi Ulysses menarik untuk disimak. Karena kawan saya yang digosipkan itu perlu juga mendengarnya, barangkali kita bisa berakhir layaknya puisi Ulysses ini.
...
My father departed Joyce's Tower with the book.
The next day when I asked my mother if she'd seen it
She said it was in their bedroom beside my father's bed.
her bed was beside the window and his bed
Was between her bed and the wall.
There it was, on his bedside table,
Ulysses
With a bookmarker in it - a fruitgum wrapper -
At the close of the opening episode.
When a view weeks later
I got to reading Ulysses myself
I found it as strange as my father
And as discordant.
It was not until four years later.
When a musical friend
Gave me my first lessons
That Ulysses began to sing for me
And I began to sing for my father:
Daddy, Daddy,
My little man, I adore you.
So peaceful ending toh! Ending dari sebuah kisah yang ditulis dalam puisi yang maknanya dapat dipetik dari arti lapis pertamanya.
Salah satu yang nempel di kepala adalah puisi:
A Vision of Democracy in the Country of Meath
When I got up this morning, I went out
to look at the rain. I had planned
to spend the morning with my gun,
thinking the story of my life.
But I saw that it was raining
And I decided to go out and have a look at the rain.
What struck me about the rain was how lit up,
Illuminated and fluorescent it was,
A bright rain of democracy.
The sky was grey as sheep
And tumbling over itself on low legs
But the rain was wearing lights under its tights
And strip lightning in the stitching of its jackets.
I saw in the park in front of the house
A singer sewing machine freshly painted in black.
Its treadle was pumping up and down.
When a woman who was sitting at it saw me look at her
She looked up and shaking her head a little
She smiled and shook her head a little again and stated:
'I am just an ordinary democrat',
And when I looked as if
I was about to reach for a quiver of words
She repeated herself without emphasis:
'I am just an ordinary democrat -
Take me as I am or not at all.'
I began to walk across the park towards her,
Ready to hand in my gun, ready to vote,
Ready to vanish, ready to disappear,
Wanting only to be her servant i all things great and small.
I will take you as you are or not at all.
Sejauh ini, puisi itu dan tiga puisi lain (The Christies Foxhunters Chase over Three Miles and Two Furlongs, Felicity in Turin, dan Ulysses). Untuk Puisi Ulysses saya menyukai peperangan yang ada didalamnya. Peperangan antara "money vs the so called 'morals'"
Ulysses
I am hiding from my father
On the roof of Joyces's Tower
In Sandycove.
He is downstairs in the gloom
of the Joyce Museum
Exchanging euphemisms with the curator,
The Poet Michael Hartnett,
Meteorological euphemisms,
Wet and cold for June.
I am standing at the battlements.
I am eighteen years old.
The battle is whether or not
He will buy a copy of Ulysses.
It is a battle about money
But it is a battle also about morality
Or 'moral' as it is called.
It began this morning at the breakfast table
When I asked him for twenty-one shillings
To buy a copy of Ulysses.
He refused on the grounds that on top
Of it being an outrageous sum of money
Which a poorly paid judge could ill afford,
It was a notoriously immoral book.
Even the most liberal-minded Jesuits
Had condemned Ulysses.
As being blasphemous as well as pornographic.
My mother jumped around from the kitchen sink:
'Give him the money for the wretched book
And let the pair of you stop this nonsense
For pity's sake.
Will we ever see peace and sense in this house?'
My father stormed out of the kitchen
The Irish Independent under his arm:
'I'll not be party to subsidising that blackguard
Bringing works of blasphemy into this house.
In the year of Our Lord nineteen hundred and sixty-three
I will not be an accessory to blasphemy."
...
Pertempuran bapak dan anak mengenai perkara moral dan uang itu serasa mengingatkan jaman dahulu kala. Ketika saya dalam posisi si bapak, yang lebih itung-itungan soal duit berhadapan dengan seorang kawan yang bersemangat dalam penerbitan. Namun yang menuding pihak lawan soal moralitas bukan saya, kawan saya itu yang menuding saya. Katanya, ketakutan dan terlalu perhitungannya saya layak disandingkan dengan immoralitas.
Ah, saya bukannya tidak panas dan tidak ingin membalas mengatakan dia juga tidak bermoral dengan menyalahgunakan semangat demi suatu tindakan yang hitungannya tidak matang. Saya cuma berpikir pada waktu itu, untuk tidak melakukan perbuatan sia-sia. Betul kawan saya yang lain, yang selalu menasehati bila ada kawannya akan menghina orang lain "tidak baik menghina orang....yang sudah hina." (hehehe maaf kawan yang sedang digosipkan saat ini).
Namun akhir puisi Ulysses menarik untuk disimak. Karena kawan saya yang digosipkan itu perlu juga mendengarnya, barangkali kita bisa berakhir layaknya puisi Ulysses ini.
...
My father departed Joyce's Tower with the book.
The next day when I asked my mother if she'd seen it
She said it was in their bedroom beside my father's bed.
her bed was beside the window and his bed
Was between her bed and the wall.
There it was, on his bedside table,
Ulysses
With a bookmarker in it - a fruitgum wrapper -
At the close of the opening episode.
When a view weeks later
I got to reading Ulysses myself
I found it as strange as my father
And as discordant.
It was not until four years later.
When a musical friend
Gave me my first lessons
That Ulysses began to sing for me
And I began to sing for my father:
Daddy, Daddy,
My little man, I adore you.
So peaceful ending toh! Ending dari sebuah kisah yang ditulis dalam puisi yang maknanya dapat dipetik dari arti lapis pertamanya.
February 18, 2013
Some of these poems are hundred years young.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews