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casparb's review against another edition
Up & down on this one! A slower start than usual & some middling poems which are unlike SH but there's a curiously Catholic thread in this which seems more explicit here than anywhere else I've encountered in his poetry. It's also the most interesting theme of the collection so it seems to lean on that which I don't awfully mind. Stronger second half.
Lovely elegies for Hughes & a sweep of Scottish poets. Title poem also wonderful
Lovely elegies for Hughes & a sweep of Scottish poets. Title poem also wonderful
nobodyatall's review against another edition
3.0
Far too clever for me to get much from it. The writing is beautiful, but so complex I was spending so long working it out that the poems didn't really get a chance.
franfernandezarce's review against another edition
4.0
were we not made for summer, shade and coolness
and gazing through an open door at sunlight?
for paradise lost? is that what i was taught?
first poetry collection of year and what a solid start. heaney's "station island" was among my best books of last year (considering the amount of his collections i pick by year, it was statistically probable) and although "electric light" doesn't quite left the same impression (nor similar to my impressions on "death of naturalist," my favourite by heaney so far) it makes a considerable effort.
divided into two parts, the first one deals with almost a semi-classical, poetical take on nature and travel writing, with some greek and latin translations thrown in the mix as well. which is what you would expect from the author. the second part is a glorification of heaney's literary friends, family and other acquaintances. although both parts might strike a different tone from one another, they felt like equal complementary companions to each other's tone and themes.
our very music, our one consolation
here's a selection of the poems i enjoyed the most (links when found):
x "lupins" link
x "red, white and blue"
x "ten glosses" link
x "on his work in the english tongue"
x "audenesque" link
and gazing through an open door at sunlight?
for paradise lost? is that what i was taught?
first poetry collection of year and what a solid start. heaney's "station island" was among my best books of last year (considering the amount of his collections i pick by year, it was statistically probable) and although "electric light" doesn't quite left the same impression (nor similar to my impressions on "death of naturalist," my favourite by heaney so far) it makes a considerable effort.
divided into two parts, the first one deals with almost a semi-classical, poetical take on nature and travel writing, with some greek and latin translations thrown in the mix as well. which is what you would expect from the author. the second part is a glorification of heaney's literary friends, family and other acquaintances. although both parts might strike a different tone from one another, they felt like equal complementary companions to each other's tone and themes.
our very music, our one consolation
here's a selection of the poems i enjoyed the most (links when found):
x "lupins" link
x "red, white and blue"
x "ten glosses" link
x "on his work in the english tongue"
x "audenesque" link
alexctelander's review against another edition
3.0
After last year’s bestselling success of Beowulf: A New Verse Translation, renowned author Seamus Heaney now brings us his latest collection of poetry, entitled Electric Light. The collection is split into two sections: a) sweeping poetry, starting off in Heaney’s homeland of Ireland, and then traveling all over the world, from Belgrade to Greece, and b) moving poetry dedicated to those who have passed away like Ted Hughes and Joseph Brodsky. Offering fresh language, as well as plenty of his own style, Heaney takes the reader on a most unique journey.
“At Toomebridge”
Where the flat water
Came pouring over the weird out of Lough Neagh
As if it had reached an edge of the flat earth
And fallen shining to the continuous
Present of the Bann
Where the checkpoint used to be.
Where the rebel boy was hanged in ’98.
Where negative ions in the open air
Are poetry to me. As once before
The Slime and silver of the fattened eel.
“To the Shade of Zbigniew Herbert”
You were one of those from the back of the north wind
Whom Apollo favoured and would keep going back to
In the winter season.
And among your people you
Remained his herald whenever he’d departed
And the land was silent and summer’s promise thwarted.
You learnt the lyre from him and kept it tuned.
Originally published on October 8th 2001 ©Alex C. Telander.
For over 500 book reviews, and over 40 exclusive author interviews (both audio and written), visit BookBanter.
“At Toomebridge”
Where the flat water
Came pouring over the weird out of Lough Neagh
As if it had reached an edge of the flat earth
And fallen shining to the continuous
Present of the Bann
Where the checkpoint used to be.
Where the rebel boy was hanged in ’98.
Where negative ions in the open air
Are poetry to me. As once before
The Slime and silver of the fattened eel.
“To the Shade of Zbigniew Herbert”
You were one of those from the back of the north wind
Whom Apollo favoured and would keep going back to
In the winter season.
And among your people you
Remained his herald whenever he’d departed
And the land was silent and summer’s promise thwarted.
You learnt the lyre from him and kept it tuned.
Originally published on October 8th 2001 ©Alex C. Telander.
For over 500 book reviews, and over 40 exclusive author interviews (both audio and written), visit BookBanter.
mlindner's review against another edition
2.0
The simple story is this wasn't really for me. Maybe a different Heaney work?
Why is that? I don't really have the language for an answer at this point. But I'll jot a few things down. Now these things should not influence anyone else as they may not apply to you. And they may in the future change for me.
Too many words I had no idea how to pronounce, and often what they meant. Gaelic, primarily.
Too many allusions and other references to Shakespeare and other bits of ancient high culture. Not exactly in a "Hey, look at me. I'm educated" sense. Still too much for me to enjoy the poems. IT might make a great book to work through in a poetry class where the effort is meant to be expended.
Perhaps I simply don't want to work so hard at poetry at this stage in my poetic development.
Why is that? I don't really have the language for an answer at this point. But I'll jot a few things down. Now these things should not influence anyone else as they may not apply to you. And they may in the future change for me.
Too many words I had no idea how to pronounce, and often what they meant. Gaelic, primarily.
Too many allusions and other references to Shakespeare and other bits of ancient high culture. Not exactly in a "Hey, look at me. I'm educated" sense. Still too much for me to enjoy the poems. IT might make a great book to work through in a poetry class where the effort is meant to be expended.
Perhaps I simply don't want to work so hard at poetry at this stage in my poetic development.
alexctelander's review
3.0
After last year’s bestselling success of Beowulf: A New Verse Translation, renowned author Seamus Heaney now brings us his latest collection of poetry, entitled Electric Light. The collection is split into two sections: a) sweeping poetry, starting off in Heaney’s homeland of Ireland, and then traveling all over the world, from Belgrade to Greece, and b) moving poetry dedicated to those who have passed away like Ted Hughes and Joseph Brodsky. Offering fresh language, as well as plenty of his own style, Heaney takes the reader on a most unique journey.
“At Toomebridge”
Where the flat water
Came pouring over the weird out of Lough Neagh
As if it had reached an edge of the flat earth
And fallen shining to the continuous
Present of the Bann
Where the checkpoint used to be.
Where the rebel boy was hanged in ’98.
Where negative ions in the open air
Are poetry to me. As once before
The Slime and silver of the fattened eel.
“To the Shade of Zbigniew Herbert”
You were one of those from the back of the north wind
Whom Apollo favoured and would keep going back to
In the winter season.
And among your people you
Remained his herald whenever he’d departed
And the land was silent and summer’s promise thwarted.
You learnt the lyre from him and kept it tuned.
Originally published on October 8th 2001 ©Alex C. Telander.
For over 500 book reviews, and over 40 exclusive author interviews (both audio and written), visit BookBanter.
“At Toomebridge”
Where the flat water
Came pouring over the weird out of Lough Neagh
As if it had reached an edge of the flat earth
And fallen shining to the continuous
Present of the Bann
Where the checkpoint used to be.
Where the rebel boy was hanged in ’98.
Where negative ions in the open air
Are poetry to me. As once before
The Slime and silver of the fattened eel.
“To the Shade of Zbigniew Herbert”
You were one of those from the back of the north wind
Whom Apollo favoured and would keep going back to
In the winter season.
And among your people you
Remained his herald whenever he’d departed
And the land was silent and summer’s promise thwarted.
You learnt the lyre from him and kept it tuned.
Originally published on October 8th 2001 ©Alex C. Telander.
For over 500 book reviews, and over 40 exclusive author interviews (both audio and written), visit BookBanter.
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