W.B. Yeats, the collected poems
“You that would judge me, do not judge alone this book or that, come to this hallowed place where my friends’ portraits hang and look thereon; Ireland’s history in their lineaments trace; think where man’s glory most begins and ends and say my glory was I had such friends.” (William Butler Yeats) © Willeke Van Eeckhoutte and Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis & Me, 2011-2012.
Old Library, Trinity College
© Willeke Van Eeckhoutte and Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis & Me, 2011-2012. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Willeke Van Eeckhoutte and Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis & Me with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Welcome to the book fetish club!
“There are worse crimes than burning books. One of them is not reading them.” (Joseph Brodsky) There’s no certainty in life anymore. You can lose your job… just like that; you can be so stressed your heart starts beating much too fast or you can end up in fights even when you tried so hard to avoid having words. But then… there’s your bookcase. That tall, sturdy oak piece of furniture that holds secrets, explains wars, teaches you a foreign language, helps you relax or take you to some imaginary world you wished you could live in. I can sit in my living room, bedroom or any other place where I have books lying around and just look at those books. Enjoy their silence even when their characters scream for…
James Joyce, Bloomsday and onions
Last Saturday Ireland celebrated Bloomsday, a day that stands out each year because of the many faces Irish people, foreign residents and visitors alike give it. For those unknown to what Bloomsday is, Leopold Bloom is the main character in James Joyce’s Ulysses. The story was set in and around Dublin on June 16th, 1904. In 1954 Bloomsday became what it is today and Leopold Bloom and Joyce got their just rewards: a day named after them and a day to showcase the wonderful artistry of Joyce. I’ve always admired Irish authors; they seem to have a wonderful sense of imagination, and they have the gift of putting this into words, much like the Greeks did with their myths. My love for them is old, ancient and combined with my…
Irish Gaelic you say? Sure! Why not!
As I sit here watching the Tour de France on TG4, the Irish-language TV channel beaming its television rays from the west of Ireland, I have no idea in the world what they’re talking about. Obviously it has to do with the Tour de France it, but other than that they could just as well be selling Lycra on TV instead of trying to cover as much French ground as possible. Now, I don’t mind my non-existing knowledge anymore of the Irish language. When I just moved to Ireland in 2002 though, I signed up for Irish language classes in the local library, hoping to do something about that non-existence of what is in my belief, a very beautiful language. Suffice it to say that I was one of the…