Funeral Rites….From Historium Press…... And From UHI Archaeology Institute…
by Bernie Bell - 08:43 on 01 November 2024
Funeral Rites….
I came across this poem by Seamus Heaney – who I greatly admire.
He weaves the ancient with the recent - the man is a marvel.
Funeral Rites
I
I shouldered a kind of manhood
stepping in to lift the coffins
of dead relations.
They had been laid out
in tainted rooms,
their eyelids glistening,
their dough-white hands
shackled in rosary beads.
Their puffed knuckles
had unwrinkled, the nails
were darkened, the wrists
obediently sloped.
The dulse-brown shroud,
the quilted satin cribs:
I knelt courteously
admiring it all
as wax melted down
and veined the candles,
the flames hovering
to the women hovering
behind me.
And always, in a corner,
the coffin lid,
its nail-heads dressed
with little gleaming crosses.
Dear soapstone masks,
kissing their brows
had to suffice
before the nails were sunk
and the black glacier
of each funeral
pushed away.
II
Now as news comes in
of each neighbourly murder
we pine for ceremony,
customary rhythms:
the temperate footsteps
of a cortege, winding past
each blinded home.
I would restore
the great chambers of Boyne,
prepare a sepulchre
under the cupmarked stones.
Out of side-streets and by-roads
purring family cars
nose into line,
the whole country tunes
to the muffled drumming
of ten thousand engines.
Somnambulant women,
left behind, move
through emptied kitchens
imagining our slow triumph
toward the mounds.
Quiet as a serpent
in its grassy boulevard
the procession drags its tail
out of the Gap of the North
as its head already enters
the megalithic doorway.
III
When they have put the stone
back in its mouth
we will drive north again
past Strang and Carling fjords,
the cud of memory
allayed for once, arbitration
of the feud placated,
imagining those under the hill
disposed like Gunnar
who lay beautiful
inside his burial mound,
though dead by violence
and unavenged.
Men said that he was chanting
verses about honour
and that four lights burned
in corners of the chamber:
which opened then, as he turned
with a joyful face
to look at the moon.
Seamus Heaney, Opened Ground: Selected
Poems 1966-1996, Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1999.
******************************************************************
From Historium Press….
“Historium Press is thrilled to announce the signing of Julian de la Motte, the award-winning author of "Senlac: a Novel of the Norman Conquest (Books 1 & 2)" to our roster of talented writers. His new Historical Medieval novel "The Will of God" is set for release early 2025!! www.historiumpress.com/julian-de-la-motte “
‘The Will of God’ is about The First Crusade and, coincidentally, on reading friend Bart’s poem…
https://bartbarkerpoet.com/2024/10/18/fraiku-red-hats/
….my response was….
“What came to my mind was The Crusades – who exactly won there?”
And Bart. replied….
“As with most crusades, there are no winners, only losers.”
Maybe read Julian’s book and see if you think the Crusaders had ‘God on their side’.
And From UHI Archaeology Institute….
FREE walk & talk at Skaill Farm, Rousay…..
https://archaeologyorkney.com/2024/10/31/skaill-walk-talk/
None of the above had been excavated when we visited Rousay…..
https://theorkneynews.scot/2017/05/18/bernie-bell-orkney-walks-with-stories-rousay/
Orkney Archaeology never sleeps!
***************************************************************************
Add your comment
