Academic journal article Chicago Review

Filming the Famine

Academic journal article Chicago Review

Filming the Famine

Article excerpt


My meal of pleasure crisped like a wave in the perfect circle of his lips, not helped by the winds and the air:

the primal garment of his skin, and the brush-braid on the hem of his voice was an answer as soft as the question.

It was an evening made of cold clouds and the necessary flight of natural sleep, which takes the malice of memory in the half-world.

Springs that had carried the steely dusk only hours old into my heart lost their coral heartbeat and were still.

The island glittered like some silver and crimson winter fruit. The river's small leaden blue pulse was only sad as one is in a dream.

Its whistled lament took blood from cattle and brought down birds - its scarlet cross-stitch roped me into grudging prayer.....


The image of peace was superimposed on a sea composed of fragments, fairground notes like a fragile line of surf came from the stamens of her pearly fingers, out of the shelter of her veil, into the shadow of her arms. She was all stranger, like some war that had escaped out of a book, all but Irish, fought according to the code of the angels. …

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