Mary Lou Kohfeldt, Lady Gregory: the Woman Behind the Irish Renaissance (London: Andre Deutsch, 1985)

1987 ◽  
pp. 257-260
Author(s):  
James Pethica
PMLA ◽  
1948 ◽  
Vol 63 (4) ◽  
pp. 1314-1321
Author(s):  
David H. Greene

One of the greatest difficulties which faced the dramatists of the Irish Renaissance was how to write heroic plays in peasant dialect. Although the language of the Irish countryman was ideal for the little farces which mirrored the living Ireland, it turned out to be the severest of limitations when used to exploit the ancient Ireland of the sagas. “But Grania is a King's daughter”, protested George Moore when Yeats insisted that Diarmuid and Grania be written in peasant dialect. And if we are to believe the story that Moore tells in Hail and Farewell, Yeats even went so far as to ask Moore, who knew not a word of dialect, to write the play in French. Lady Gregory would then turn it into English, an Irish translator would render it in Irish, and Lady Gregory would then turn the Irish literally into English. Although Yeats never got a peasant Grania from Moore, he very nearly realized his ideal when he induced Synge, the acknowledged master of peasant dialect, to attempt a peasant Deirdre. Synge, like Moore, might well have protested against the difficult task his master had set him. “I am not sure whether I shall be able to make a satisfactory play out of it”, he wrote to an American friend. But he plunged on, creating his Deirdre in the image of a Wicklow peasant girl. We can surmise that she gave him considerable trouble, for he rewrote the play more than fifteen times, working on it more energetically than on any other of his plays. We have Moore's testimony that Synge finally began to feel that peasant speech was impossible and started to weed it out of his play. However, the mass of MSS which represent Synge's work on the play up to his death indicate that no such weeding process had begun.


2016 ◽  
Vol 46 (2) ◽  
pp. 243-259
Author(s):  
Deirdre Ní Chonghaile

To date, little attention has been given to the songs in Synge's The Aran Islands, items that Tim Robinson imagines are not ‘fully thought into the texture of the work’. They come from a collection of songs in Irish and in English that was created by Synge in Inis Oírr in 1901 in the company of the local poet Mícheál Ó Meachair. This essay investigates Synge's song collection and the local singers and poets whom he met, including Seághan Seoige of Baile an Fhormna, Inis Oírr and Marcuisín Mhichil Siúinéara Ó Flaithbheartaigh of Cill Rónáin, Árainn. It examines how the music of Aran impacted on Synge during his four visits between 1898 and 1901, what his collection tells us about the song tradition of Aran, and what inspired him to collect songs there. Did Douglas Hyde's Love Songs of Connacht prompt him to create his own collection? What parts did Lady Gregory and W.B. Yeats play? Considering Synge was a trained musician and composer, why did he not collect the airs that accompanied the songs? Recognising the influence of sean-nós song on Synge's dramatic oeuvre, this essay questions whether or not the songs of Aran affected his work.


1990 ◽  
Vol 15 (1) ◽  
pp. 18-28
Author(s):  
Katharine Worth

The Irish Literary Theatre, from which a new Irish theatre was to develop, came to birth at the very point when Ibsen was about to depart from the European theatrical scene. His last play, When We Dead Awaken, appeared in 1899, the year in which Yeats's The Countess Cathleen and Edward Martyn's The Heather Field were produced in Dublin. They were the first fruits of the resolve taken by the two playwrights, with Lady Gregory and George Moore, to ‘build up a Celtic and Irish school of dramatic literature’ and they offered decidedly different foretastes of what that ‘school’ might bring forth. Yeats declared himself an adherent of a poetic theatre that would use fantasy, vision and dream without regard for the limits set by the realistic convention. Martyn, on the other hand, was clearly following Ibsen in his careful observance of day-to-day probability. The central symbol of his play, the heather field, represents an obscure psychological process which might have received more ‘inward’ treatment. But instead it is fitted into a pattern of social activities in something like the way of the prosaically functional but symbolic orphanage in Ghosts.


Author(s):  
Matthew Campbell

Much scholarship has been devoted to the extraordinary experience of W.B. Yeats and his wife George on their honeymoon, when she acted as medium for the writing dictated by the spirits who came, they told Yeats, ‘to give you metaphors for poetry.’ Much has been made of Yeats’s adoption of the revealed symbolic system as it emerged into his subsequent poetry. And much has also been said about the sexual politics of the relationship between Yeats and George and the other women in his life, like Maud Gonne or Lady Gregory and their various functions from muse to patron. This chapter thinks again about these writers as correspondents with the poetry, as historical persons, amatory fantasies, spiritual personae and psychic practitioners. It focuses on George, though, and gives another version of Yeats the collaborator, the poet of correspondences: ‘Where got I that truth?’, the two-part lyric ‘Fragments’ asks: ‘Out of a medium’s mouth’ is the answer.


Sign in / Sign up

Export Citation Format

Share Document