The Art of Translation in Seamus Heaney’s Poetry is a critical study of the poet's later work. While exploring his practice as a translator, it also traces his increasing preoccupation with the possibilities and conditions of translation in the theological sense of being lifted up in spirit. To the work of this philosophical poet, who would be both “earthed and heady” this book brings the insights of ordinary language philosophy as practiced by Stanley Cavell. It devotes separate chapters to Station Island and three later collections: Seeing Things, Electric Light and Human Chain. The first of these addresses the most fundamental change in Heaney’s life when he acknowledges the “need and chance to re-envisage” his Irish-Catholic upbringing; it is also replete with both the activity and the trope of translation. Published seven years later, Seeing Things begins with a translation of Virgil’s golden bough episode and ends with a similar crossing over into the underworld by Dante. Heaney transforms both into poems about poetry. In Electric Light, Heaney returns to Virgil, but now he concentrates not on the hero of the Aeneid but on Virgil's earlier efforts in pastoral, a mode of writing that Heaney takes as a model for his own time and place of “devastated order.” Heaney returns to the Aeneid in Human Chain, but this time around he gives all his attention to the scene of the human souls in Elysium seeking rebirth and turns it into an image for the need and chance of pronouncing “a final Yes” to our world and our place in it.

A masterpiece from one of the greatest poets of the century In a momentous publication, Seamus Heaney's translation of Book VI of the Aeneid, Virgil's epic poem composed sometime between 29 and 19 BC, follows the hero, Aeneas, on his descent into the underworld. In Stepping Stones, a book of interviews conducted by Dennis O'Driscoll, Heaney acknowledged the significance of the poem to his writing, noting that "there's one Virgilian journey that has indeed been a constant presence, and that is Aeneas's venture into the underworld. The motifs in Book VI have been in my head for years--the golden bough, Charon's barge, the quest to meet the shade of the father." In this new translation, Heaney employs the same deft handling of the original combined with the immediacy of language and sophisticated poetic voice as was on show in his translation of Beowulf, a reimagining which, in the words of James Wood, "created something imperishable and great that is stainless--stainless, because its force as poetry makes it untouchable by the claw of literalism: it lives singly, as an English language poem."

The first book-length study of Heaney's dialogue with Virgil, one of Seamus Heaney's major literary exemplars.

"The Art of Translation in Seamus Heaney's Poetry is a critical study of the later work of Seamus Heaney. While exploring the poet's practice as a translator, it also traces his increasing preoccupation with the possibilities and conditions of translation in the theological sense of being lifted up in spirit by finding your feet in the ground of your own understanding. To the work of this philosophical poet, who would be both "earthed and heady," this book brings the insights of ordinary language philosophy as practiced by Stanley Cavell. It devotes separate chapters to Station Island and two later collections: Seeing Things and Electric Light. The first of these addresses the most fundamental change in Heaney's life when he acknowledges the "need and chance to re-envisage" his Irish-Catholic upbringing; it is also replete with both the activity and the trope of translation. Published seven years later, Seeing Things begins with a translation of Virgil's golden bough episode and ends with a similar crossing over into the underworld by Dante. Heaney transforms both into poems about poetry to go along with his lengthy ars poetica entitled "Squarings." A decade later in Electric Light, Heaney returns to Virgil, but now he finds himself not in the epic hero of the Aeneid but in the poet whom Dante honored as "the singer of the eclogues." This collection contains eclogues but also many other poems showing and enacting Heaney's new found appreciation of the pastoral mode as a model for his own time and place of "devastated order.""--

Poetry is supposed to be untranslatable. But many poems in English are also translations: Pope's Iliad, Pound's Cathay, and Dryden's Aeneis are only the most obvious examples. The Poetry of Translation explodes this paradox, launching a new theoretical approach to translation, and developing it through readings of English poem-translations, both major and neglected, from Chaucer and Petrarch to Homer and Logue. The word 'translation' includes within itself a picture: of something being carried across. This image gives a misleading idea of goes on in any translation; and poets have been quick to dislodge it with other metaphors. Poetry translation can be a process of opening; of pursuing desire, or succumbing to passion; of taking a view, or zooming in; of dying, metamorphosing, or bringing to life. These are the dominant metaphors that have jostled the idea of 'carrying across' in the history of poetry translation into English; and they form the spine of Reynolds's discussion. Where do these metaphors originate? Wide-ranging literary historical trends play their part; but a more important factor is what goes on in the poem that is being translated. Dryden thinks of himself as 'opening' Virgil's Aeneid because he thinks Virgil's Aeneid opens fate into world history; Pound tries to being Propertius to life because death and rebirth are central to Propertius's poems. In this way, translation can continue the creativity of its originals. The Poetry of Translation puts the translation of poetry back at the heart of English literature, allowing the many great poem-translations to be read anew.

Lightning crackles across the sky. Blood seeps into the ground. And far below, in the belly of the earth, ancient wills begin to stir...Iceland, 1013 AD. A pagan farmer attacks a Christian priest. With a single blow from his hammer, he shatters a delicate balance, setting in motion forces more powerful than he can comprehend. The resultant blood feud and potential for religious conflict have grave implications for all Icelanders, and perhaps the very land itself. For it is said that an otherworldly race of beings still haunts the wild and lonely places just beyond the farmlands...The Stoneborn Saga is an epic adventure combining medieval history with fantastic possibility in a harsh and beautiful setting. Read it to enter a living world that is mysterious, timeless, hidden all around us...and waiting for you.