We have a love of language that’s older than Newgrange stones. The city is pockmarked with blue plaques reminding us that this or that writer was born, lived, or died here. We’re a UNESCO City of Literature.
Let’s face it, we rock.
Being such a thriving centre for all things literary, it’s not surprising that we should express our love for writers and writing in the warmest possible way, which leads me to the Dublin Writers’ Festival.
Such festivals abound, of course, both in Ireland and around the globe. They are the public face of a private art. But there is something very special about the Dublin Writers’ Festival. Yes, yes, I admit it: I’m a Dubliner and a writer so possibly I’m biased. Just a smidgeon.
But, tell me, where else can you find the native Dub and those from afar greeted with equal generosity? Who sets a place for the novelist and the poet, the lyricist and the dramatist? What other festival offers such nourishment to the neophyte writer while acknowledging the legacy of the celebrated?
There’s a place here for everyone.
I can’t wait to sit down with the glitter-literati. There are debates and discussions, lectures and sessions to delight the soul, and something for everyone. The energy fizzes like an over-shaken can of cola.
This year we already have Emma Donoghue, Anita Shreve and Ray Davies of The Kinks to look forward to. Who else is yet to be announced? I don’t know, but I do know where I’ll be come May 17th when the festival kicks off.
See you there?