Anne Cunningham on Anne Enright

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Anne Enright interviewed by Niall McMonagle

Smock Alley Theatre, Saturday 23rd May

On the day that Ireland voted yes, I found myself wading through the jubilant crowds outside Dublin Castle, trying to weave a path to Smock Alley theatre. It’s tough, attempting to muscle your way through a crowd in full party mode. But I bravely resisted the urge to simply give in and party on down – I had work to do. And I’m so glad I did it.

Listening to Anne Enright wasn’t work at all, as it happened. She is as much of a joy to listen to as she is to read, and has as much presence on the stage as she has on the page. She made us laugh and smirk and remember and try to forget in a short space of time that seemed longer, somehow, as she crammed so much of herself – with rare honesty and integrity – into a mere 90 minutes.

Niall McMonagle, asking her about her new novel The Green Road, wanted to know if this is a Mother Ireland book? (The matriarch of the family in her novel is called Rosaleen.)

“No, I do it for laughs really – to annoy people!” she smiled, adding that her book is about separation and connection and the Big Separation for everyone is surely that of leaving one’s mother. “We leave our mother and return to find the human being” she said.

In that case, was it simply a modern twist on the King Lear story?

“It’s actually through the writing of two books – one on compassion and the other on a kind of female King Lear that this book came about” explained Enright.

Somewhat surprised, her interviewer asked did she not have the ending of those books in mind, how could two books end up becoming one? He quoted John Fowles’ always knowing the end of his novels before he begins (although it’s John Irving who is famous for that quote), and Anne Enright described how she “travels blind” through the writing process. She has a vague idea of shape and plot but says her books are not narrative driven, she doesn’t suffer from “narrative adrenalin” and prefers to think of them as “taking a bath”.

And then the old turkey came out – a mandatory question for women writers, I’ve heard it asked again and again and again: Had she ever considered writing in the opposite gender…yawn…? Really, you gentlemen interviewers, you should know better. Who asks male writers that question?

Ms Enright seemed to consider the question to be as tiresome as any woman would, and since most of the interview was about The Green Road, I could see her oncoming answer like a train down the track at top speed. “Two of the characters in the book are men” she replied.

“I write 3rd person in the past tense, both male and female. It’s not a question of gender at all, it’s a question of character and that character’s place in the story.”

Being a generous-spirited woman, she showed not one teeny sign of being irked, but the annoyance among the females in the audience was palpable. On the very day we voted for equality on an inherently gender-based issue, that such a question could be asked – and not of an MA writing student, but of a Man Booker prize-winning author, a woman whose prose stands alongside the finest living writers… I found it preposterous.

A question from a member of the audience during the Q & A prompted Enright to give us her frank opinion on the “preciousness” of some writers.

“I’m a professor myself”, stated the audience member, “And Virginia Woolf insisted that writers need a room to themselves – a room dedicated only to writing.”

Ms Enright was gracious as always in her response: “If you’re going to be a good writer, then you need to understand that you’ll never make much money. So you need to cut your cloth and get used to living modestly. Good writing is not about having a dedicated writing room. It’s about the page. It is always – always – about the words on the page.”

By Anne Cunningham

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Alan Walsh on Paul Muldoon

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Paul Muldoon: Rara Avis.

The old story about a teenage Paul Muldoon sending his novice poems to Seamus Heaney didn’t run the way people like to tell it. The story goes he posted them to his hero, asking what, if anything, could be done to improve them and the older poet replied very simply; nothing. What Heaney had actually said was that he couldn’t tell Muldoon anything he wouldn’t find out for himself. Rara Avis, was what his teacher, Jerry Hicks, called him when first introducing him to Heaney and it was the older poet that caught him his first break, recommending him to Charles Monteith at Faber poetry and helping him right along to publication while still a student.
The poem Cuthbert and the Otters, from Muldoon’s latest collection features the line everyone hooked themselves onto at the 2013 Durham book festival only a few weeks after Heaney’s funeral:
“I cannot thole the thought of Seamus Heaney dead.”
And it’s very hard to think of Muldoon without half a mind to his fellow Ulsterman. While it might seem to many that Muldoon fell under the master’s influence early on, turning his head from the showboating of poets like Eliot, clashing high and low brow in a single line, to writing about his country and the life around him, Muldoon is more inclined to see influence as a shared thing and has suggested he might have had some impact on Heaney’s work too. It’s hardly impossible. The two are so entwined in popular perception many read Muldoon’s poem Madoc: A Mystery, which tells of Southey and Coleridge trying to set up a Pantisocracy in North America, as a metaphor for the two Ulster poets setting course for major positions in American academia. If he did turn his head it wasn’t all the way. Muldoon has always been a verbal trickster, always mixed and matched meter and tone, and copying his poems into Word has always left the white page awash in wiggly red underlines. He writes in Villanelles, the more complex double sestinas, Persian ghazals and Pantoums. He sets up a neat little acrostic in the poem Capercaillies that reads “Is this a New Yorker Poem or what.” (turned out it wasn’t, they refused it) and shifts gear from sardonic to pathos and back within a line.
Stunt Reading could be the key to it all. It’s a way of reading a poem Muldoon introduced to students during his Oxford lectures. An awareness of what he called cryptocurrents, secret meanings, in-jokes and, like jazz, the notes you don’t hear. Yeats, Tsvetaeva, Hughes, Frost and many others effectively have their poetry rewritten through gamifying the close-reading process into a free-association sport. Like the best of Muldoon’s work, it’s unserious and scholarly, fun but maddeningly intricate and at the same time revealing moments only the highest poetry can aspire to.

By Alan Walsh

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Shamim de Brún : Lost in Music

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A Timeless Playlist

So I’m hammering away at these keys in Dublin’s best smoking area. The IFI. In my opinion anyway. It’s a bit chilly but their wifi works great even out here so I can’t really complain. I punch my earphones into my compact laptop, switch to Spotify and play my “Ryan Gattis: All Involved” playlist. A playlist I’ve just spent a whole hour compiling. It’s as close to the soundtrack of Ryan Gattis’s Lost In Music event that I can get. My head bops, the playlist soothes me while I light a cigarette and think about Gattis. He spent two and a half years researching his latest novel “All Involved” and I’m trying to write about it in only two days. It’s a paralizing thought. So I … scroll through twitter. I follow Gattis. He’s an interesting guy. From REM albums to Hamlet auditions I feel like I learned a lot about him in his one hour nine minute talk in the Liquor Rooms on Saturday. There’s nothing else to tweet about except Gattis. So I do. I tell the world what I’m doing but in a vague way. It’s a tweet, no space for superfluous detail.

The Supremes “Run Run Run” is still playing when my hands get too cold to be typing. There’s only a light but crisp summer breeze to complain about but it’s enough to drive me inside. I pause Ms. Ross and co mid chorus and I rock inside in search of a warmer spot to chill with my playlist, notes and this little blog post.

I find an empty table right near the entrance to that bathrooms. It’s not ideal but hey at least it’s warm. The waiter comes over to me in my new spot and I notice my stomach trying to claw its way into my consciousness. I haven’t eaten since breakfast and it’s almost 4. The waiter, Saleem, he speaks to me over the music in my ears. I take one earphone out and I know I’m being rude but Kid Frost’s Mi Vida Loca is on and it’s almost finished. I listen as its soothing sample peters out and ask Saleem how he is getting on, in French, ‘cos why not. As the song finishes I pop the other ear bud out, slap the pause button and order myself nibbles and a coffee.

My body has warmed up after nicely as I’ve snacked and bopped away to More Than a Feeling and Rock Around the Clock and so I go back to my laptop. I can’t quite remember where I was going with my sentence so I delete it and go back to my notes from the evening. And I am so thankful for mobile phones. Smart phones, man, they make it easier. I have everything I need to write this in my pocket if I wanted. That thought makes me pensive. I think about how riots today are fueled by social media. How Twitter and Facebook get the blame for horrific events. The London Riots in 2011 are a prime example. I guess it must work the way Gattis said the media fueled the 1992 LA riots, the setting for “All Involved”. People know the places and what’s happening and they just join in. We’re all just opportunistic sheep. The image of a sheep in a riot makes me laugh. It shouldn’t but it does.

When you think realistically though…Scary thoughts. Gangs. Rioting. Civil Unrest. It’s all over my Facebook. Ferguson, New York, Baltimore. I can read about it if and when I want to, but I can also not. I can just ignore it. I’m hit in the face by my own privilege as I type this. I think about the themes in Gattis’s bestseller and know that “All Involved” is timeless. Gattis is so right. When things don’t change, when cities and inner cities in particular don’t have access to jobs, education and healthcare it’s always gonna happen. It’s inevitable. We never learn. Do we even listen? Generation to generation? We mustn’t. After all I hadn’t even heard of the LA riots and I was approaching my first birthday when they happened. I mean they happened in my lifetime and if there wasn’t an amazing fiction book written about them I think I’d still be plodding along in my ignorance and I lived in LA for six month. Smack. There’s that privilege again.

Then just to hammer that thought home 5446 comes on. I lament that I couldn’t find the live version Gattis treated us to on the night. I enjoy the remastered version anyway. And I think about him, about Gattis, about how much he enjoyed his work and his reading, how hard he worked on such a mamoth task, how into it he got, how he managed to create 17 distinct, clear voices, and how he had to clarify there were, in fact, no snails in the book. He had tripped over the word snares. It was absolutely hilarious. It makes me smile. One of those broad toothy smiles that if a someone caught it they’d think I was mad. But snails! Hilarious.

A beat of a specials song bumps into my head as I stifle a giggle and I think about how many of these songs I actually know. Considering I was only a baby at their peak popularity. I sip my coffee. Only adults get to sip coffee. A Message to you Ruddy fades out and the playlist is played through. The melody is gone. Just like the final narrator in the brave book I don’t hear anything but background noise. Cafe sounds, a lot better than the cracking fires that consumed most of LA over the course of the 6 day riots. And I rebuild the scene from the Liquor Rooms in my mind before pressing repeat. Mixtapes might have died but the playlist lives on. This playlist is perfect. I think I’ll be listening to these tunes for a while. Thanks Gattis.

By Shamim de Brún

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Caelen Dwane on Jon Ronson

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“I’m a humourist journalist out of my depth” – Jon Ronson – O’Reilly Theatre – 19th May 2015

Firstly, sincere apologies to those sitting around me yesterday evening in the O’Reilly Hall for the wild scribbling of notes that took place, as almost everything said throughout the event seemed comment worthy on this post today; and yet, I haven’t even touched on half of it in what follows. Anton Savage introduced Jon Ronson as “one of those rare finds – a very funny and captivating author, who is as captivating verbally as he is in text.” I can now wholeheartedly agree with this.

Jon Ronson walked out on stage to say how pleased he was to be standing on the stage of the theatre bequeathed by Tony O’Reilly. He had previously been chased from a Bilderberg meeting where Tony O’Reilly was in attendance, but now he was standing on his stage. Remembering his call to the British Embassy in the city as he ran to escape at the time, he explained to the woman on the end of the phone that he was a ‘humourist journalist out of his depth’. When she called him back to confirm that she had checked and that there were no reports of anyone following him, she supposed that it was good news if you knew you were being followed as they are probably just trying to intimidate you. If you were actually being followed, you wouldn’t know – Ronson’s thought on this was what if he was exactly the right kind of anxious and paranoid person to know exactly when he was being followed by the ‘henchmen of the shadowy police of the world.’

To me, this was the biggest surprise in seeing Jon Ronson for the first time, I found him to be of a somewhat nervous disposition. That is not to say that he is not a confident person by any stretch, surely confidence is a given in a person who infiltrates secret meetings of shady organisations, ventures UFO hunting with pop stars, addresses the wealthy and powerful in society as psychopaths, and beyond. However, he himself said that he is a hugely anxious person, particularly in regards to his wife and child. Yet, this anxiety in his persona, was not something I expected from what I did know of him. In saying that, I found that it added to his charm and is perhaps why he does manage to spy on secret meetings, go on bizarre adventures with pop stars, and address psychopaths without inciting their ire.

I imagine a lot of people are most familiar with Jon Ronson, as I was, from his books The Psychopath Test and The Men Who Stare at Goats, and as a journalist published in The Guardian. Ronson said that writing The Psychopath Test made him a certified ‘psychopath spotter’. In becoming so, it also made him a bit of a psychopath about shoving people into a psychopath box based on the outer most parts of them. He stated that journalism is the quest to define people by their outer most aspects, essentially labelling people. In America, children as young as 1 or 2 are being labelled as bi-polar for their unruly behaviour and being put on medication from that young age. While we all agreed that this seems absurd and a bad thing, Ronson claims that this is what we are all now doing on social media – labelling people, and attacking or shaming them accordingly. On Twitter, we are convinced that ‘some bad phraseology in a tweet is a clue to this person’s true and inherent evil’. This is the idea behind Ronson’s new book So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed. In the book, he explores the shaming culture on social media. We now find ourselves in a world where the ordinary people have a voice, and a powerful voice at that, and where it now appears that in the social media realm, a day without shaming has become a wasted day.

One the stories in his new book and a large part of the discussion last night, centred on a tweet by Justine Sacco. If you haven’t heard of Justine Sacco and the frenzy that ensued a tweet sent before she boarded a flight to South Africa, then I’d advise having a Google on that. I hadn’t heard of any of it, but now that I have, I will be forever aware of the potential of Twitter to ruin lives. In his own words, Jon Ronson said he saw that tweet that night and thought with delight ‘Great. Someone is f***ed!’ We all agreed with him that on a visceral level, what she tweeted is abhorrent; however, even then, he thought it was clearly someone mocking privilege by highlighting privilege – which turned out to be the case. Yet, with only 170 Twitter followers, Justine Sacco became the worldwide number one trending item on twitter and a victim of attack on all kinds of fronts. Justine had, in the eyes of the Twittersphere, misused her privilege – but, in truth, she was just a small PR person tweeting in the hope of amusing people that she couldn’t see. It snowballed from there, and everyone jumped on her misfortune. Not just the trolls, and there were lots of trolls, but nice normal people – people like us. The Gawker writer who picked up her tweet and started the attack against her said the way it all unfolded was “delicious”; asked how he thought she was after, he said he thought she was fine. The reality for her was that she lost a job she loved, suffered anxiety, depression, and was left afraid and ashamed. Plenty of other examples of similar and worse situations were covered last night and are detailed in the book. Ronson said of his new book, ‘it is not a polemic, it’s more like a horror story of getting to feel what these people felt.’

Savage posed a great question in comparing it to a modern day witch hunt in a new medium. Ronson agreed that it wasn’t unlike a witch hunt, in that it is impossible to defend yourself. Anything you could say in your defence is just more evidence to their case against you. It has been highlighted as ‘performance piety’, where people surround themselves on social media with people who are in line with their views or the views they want to be seen as theirs, and if something steps outside of that remit then we scream them down. Ronson quite sharply pointed out that this is the opposite of democracy. Savage highlighted that the book ends on an inadvertently capitalist note. That money is being made by this public shaming. Ronson laughed saying that Google has the corporate motto ‘Don’t be evil’, yet, every time something is searched, Google makes 38 cent. Justine Sacco was Googled a handful of times in one day prior to the infamous tweet – afterwards, during the period that followed, she was Googled over 1,220,000 times. It was “us” that did the shaming, Ronson determined that we were just like unpaid Google interns.

On the flip side, for all the bad Twitter stories, he did have a very touching story to share about his former bandmate Frank Sidebottom. Ronson co-wrote the screenplay of the film ‘Frank’ starring Michael Fassbender; and it was loosely based on his time in Frank’s band from 1987-1990. Frank was known for wearing a big fake head. About 15 years later Frank called to say he was staging a comeback and would Ronson write it up. However, Chris “Frank” Sievey died penniless and was going to be buried in a pauper’s grave. Ronson sent out a single tweet and following that one tweet over £20,000 was raised, which Ronson noted was more than enough to ‘bury him, exhume him and bury him again.’ So, surely the world of social media is not inherently evil.

The questions from the audience were some interesting takes on this. On being asked if he thought there was an era of anarchy in the internet – cybercrime, social media shaming and the like; and whether he thought government regulation would be a good thing? Ronson replied that the only people that could be regulated against really were the trolls, and not us “normal people”. Human beings are dimensional and complicated, and this isn’t always demonstrated, or may not even be demonstrable, through social media. Ronson explained that throughout history whenever powerless people become empowered it takes a while to figure out how to use the power judiciously. He favours humans over ideology every time, and while the latter may currently be winning out, he believes in human beings.

By Caelen Dwane

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Rebecca Treacy on Sepideh Jodeyri

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When Sepideh Jodeyri attended a Q&A before a screening of Blue is the Warmest Colour, the conversation was dominated by discussion of her life and works in her home country of Iran. It also centred around her feelings about being exiled in Prague because of her professional life. A poet, translator, literary critic and journalist, among other things, Jodeyri has faced many problems since she decided to translate Julie Maroh’s graphic novel Blue is the Warmest Colour into Persian. She made the decision to do so in an attempt to educate Iranian people about LGBT people and show them how to behave in reaction to those “who are unlike” the dominant culture sanctioned by the Iranian government.

It is clear that living in exile is painful for Jodeyri. She told the audience that she dreams of Iran every night and wakes up each morning saddened to find that she is not at home. This life has been made necessary for her as she’s viewed as a supporter of homosexuality and someone who promotes it, a fact she finds amusing since it’s ‘impossible to promote homosexuality’. The reason for this smearing of Jodeyri’s name is because of her choice to translate Blue is the Warmest Colour. It has led to what she describes as her ‘pen being banned’, with the Ministry of Intelligence banning not only her own poetry and writing but also banning her name. This means that anything mentioning Jodeyri such as interviews or articles tend to be banned alongside her work.

The film version of Blue is the Warmest Colour has had worldwide acclaim, winning the Palme d’Or at Cannes in 2012 and performing well internationally. Jodeyri’s love remains with the original graphic novel and she proclaims herself as a fan of Julie Maroh’s work, declaring her enthusiasm for Maroh having sent her the newest edition to her repertoire of work. This remains her view despite the impact it’s had on her life. Jodeyri cannot go back to Iran after leaving of her own decision to keep her son safe and protect her family. Her friends have been interrogated for being connected to her and all have warned her to stay away from Iran as her leaving drew attention to her as a target. That means she hasn’t been able to see her family or friends since she left Iran a little over four years ago.

Before she left, it was clear that her translation of Blue is the Warmest Colour made life for herself and those she interacted with unsafe. She has said previously “I’ve been declared persona non grata in my own country”. Her publisher was threatened with having his license revoked for publishing her poetry, although he is still working as a publisher now and publishing other banned authors. Each text published in Iran needs to be licensed by the Minister for Culture and it took only two weeks after Jodeyri’s licensed book of poetry was banned. Additionally, the man who rented out a hall in Tehran for the launch of her poetry book And Etc was fired from his job and the event was cancelled. It’s clear that interacting with banned authors can cause many problems for those who take the risk.

Sepideh Jodeyri is trying to combat all of this. She has released a new book of poetry called And Emptiness is Flowing Under My Skin this year, all of which was written while in exile. It is banned in Iran as all of her poetry is seen to promote homosexuality, despite the fact that Jodeyri is a married heterosexual woman who doesn’t write about same-sex relationship in her own work. She has made the book free as an eBook to an Iranian citizen living inside Iran and dedicated the collection to all of the Iranian people living in exile around the world.

Sepideh Jodeyri’s life is a harsh reminder that in many places around the world freedom of expression is limited and the rights of LGBT are essentially non-existent. The Q&A was left with the idea that we’re lucky to live in Ireland where there is an upcoming referendum, and for the most part LGBT people are safe to live in this country, not having to fear that they will have to flee the country simply because of their existence as a person who is not heterosexual.

By Rebecca Treacy
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Anita Byrne on The Only Jealousy of Emer

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The Only Jealousy of Emer at 14 Henrietta Street.

When I arrived at the location of the play, I honestly had no idea what to expect. I was on the earliest Georgian streets of Dublin, Henrietta street, where many of the houses had fallen into disrepair during the 19th and 20th centuries when they began their lives as tenement buildings. The houses have been the subject of restoration efforts in recent years and one of them were the location for this play, The Only Jealousy of Emer starring Yemi Adenuga, Deji Adenuga, Oluwayomi Ogunyemi, Esosa Ighodaro and Penelope Anyaji-Aniuzu. Who knew that such unassuming, barren houses could hold such an unforgettable event?
We were guided into the first room of the house where there were a few chairs lined out but no performers to be seen. The atmosphere was extremely sombre and slightly haunting, given the long history of the Georgian houses on Henrietta street, I am convinced they’re haunted. This haunting feeling was further reiterated as the play began with slow humming coming from down the hall which slowly approached closer and closer to the room in which we were sitting. I remember preparing myself for something jumping out at me, the anticipation was really starting to become too much and I began feeling very nervous. The beautiful singing voices of the performers soon quenched this nervous feeling as they walked in in a procession and presented themselves to the audience.
The play which went on for approximately 25 minutes, Cuchulainn has killed his son and in grief, attempts to fight the sea. Half drowned; he lies in a state between life and death with his wife and mistress watching over him. Strange events occur as Cuchulainn has in fact been replaced by a changeling and they try tirelessly to get him back. This play is highly interactive with the audience as you follow the performers from room to room for the duration of the play. In some instances they even stand among the crowd, giving the crowd a feeling of inclusion, the events of the play being something shared by both the performers and the audience.
This play is a production by the City Arts Office in association with Yemi and Deji Adenuga for Nigerian Carnival Ireland, the production is designed by Robert Ballagh, with costumes by Marie Tierney and choreography by Liz Roche. The play is already an stunning piece of theatre, but there is an amazing sense of multiculturalism at play with the contribution of Nigerian Carnival Ireland. It puts an interesting spin on the play as it is combining both Nigerian culture and Irish culture to create a unique masterpiece that I would highly recommend anyone with an interest in culture and theatre to go and see.

By Anita Byrne

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Sara Baume at the LAB – by Anite Byrne

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Sara Baume at The LAB Gallery

We had the pleasure of having Sara Baume with us in the LAB Gallery on the 18th of May. Unfortunately Brian Dillon, a lecturer at the Royal College of Art, was unable to attend due to unforeseen circumstances. Baume flew solo in conversation with writer and art critic Nathan Hugh O’ Donnell in what was an interesting and inspirational evening, highlighting how a visual art background enabled Baume to create her critically acclaimed debut novel Spill Simmer Falter Wither. Sara Baume studied fine art at IADT, completed an internship at the Douglas Hyde Gallery in Trinity
College, where she also completed a Creative Writers Masters. Influenced by both visual art and writers, Baume began writing the book which would catapult her writing career in to existence. Spill Simmer Falter Wither is on sale in both Ireland, the UK and overseas in the United States.
The evening began with Sara reading two extracts from her novel, a story of rural isolation and the relationship between man and dog as told through the eyes of the narrator, an old man. When the question arose as to why Baume chose to write the book in the tricky second person she answered that “it didn’t seem authentic in any other voice”. Many authors chose not to write in second person due to how exceedingly difficult it is but the fact Baume had the idea and ran with it, made it that much more admirable. Typical of her visual arts background, she shows complete attention to detail and visual scrutiny which places you right in the head of the old man and his rescue dog as he goes about his daily activities.

In what Joseph O’ Connor describes as “utterly wonderful” and “the most impressive novel” that he’s read in years, Baume’s protagonist adopts a one eyed rescue dog who was consigned to the local pound after being attacked by a badger. Without giving too much away, old Ray learns a lot from his canine counterpart as he observes his movements and the motives behind them. Instead of him attempting to give human attributes to the dog, he tries to apply the attributes of his dog to his own life, attempting to make the most of his days such as the dog makes the most of sniffing each little blade of grass.

After discussing the book, Nathan Hugh O’ Donnell and Sara Baume had a rather interesting conversation about art criticism. Both came from similar backgrounds, O’ Donnell began with publishing, then turned to art criticism and Baume went the opposite way, from art criticism to publishing. Sara Baume discussed something her past tutor from IADT said to her, he said that everything you put in to your sculpture must have a reason for being there, she applied this to her writing. If one piece of it does not work, nothing works. Baume and O´Donnell agreed that art
criticisms are truly successful and composed from something that you know honestly, that all the high brow notions that come with art are not truly successful if you do not understand what you are looking at. At the moment, writing is the priority for Sara Baume, she intends to return to sculpture sometime in the future; as she beautifully put it “art is a muscle that you need to keep stretching.” Baume has an interest in conceptual art and folk art.

Unfortunately for me I had not read the text beforehand but I can safely say that I near sprinted up the stairs to purchase a copy after the event. I am only a quarter through the novel but I feel it in my toes that this is a book I will, without a doubt, read numerous more times. It is an honest escape, there is nothing insanely beautiful about where the protagonist lives, it is just a normal rural town but the way Baume writes it, it feels like you are travelling to a new place in your head. Every morsel is described and illustrated in the minds eye.

To end the event, it was open to the floor for Q&A where she was asked about her love for animals, her inspirations when she was experiencing a hard time when writing and the process of publishing. What really inspired me about Baume is that her story is real, it didn’t all just happen overnight, she experienced successes and failure and furthermore, she created her own opportunities through hard work. She faced the struggles that any art graduate faced; the difficulty to find the finance to create works but Baume persevered and kept chipping away with what she was doing and in the end it all paid off. She is an inspiration for any aspiring writer, including myself. I left the event feeling refreshed, that hard work will pay off and what is meant for you will not pass you by.

Currently, Sara Baume is working on her second book. She did not want to reveal too much about it, only the fact that it is going to be something more autobiographical rather than fictional.

By Anita Byrne

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