A Ghost in the Throat
I am obsessed with this book.
I remember the fanfared release of A Ghost in the Throat by Doireann Ní Ghríofa and remember the inception of its publisher, Tramp Press. But I didn’t really realize what the book was about…something about an epic Irish poem? A woman ghost? I assumed it was fiction. No, no, no…I was wrong.
Per an earlier post: The reason Matt spent 2.5 hours helping me decode my own manuscript is because while my professional life has often called for writing that must toe the line in a straightforward and patterned manner because, well, that’s what grant applications or newsletters entail, my personal writing often veers in a different direction. I like to play with form and language, I weave disparate elements together (as I sometimes do on a small scale here…i.e. posts that somehow also reference Kenny G or Crocs [?]). So it was beneficial for someone who knows my brain to help me untangle it with an eye toward this question: Does this make sense or am I bonkers? What also helps is looking for literary models as I refine and understand my goals.
So I was reading A Ghost in the Throat around the same time as this editorial huddle and all I kept thinking was, “This! This! This!”
Ní Ghríofa is a poet. And the grounding force of this book is an 18th century poem by Eibhlín Dubh Ní Chonaill (“Eileen O’Connell” in English) that the author has been obsessed with since childhood — “Caoineadh Airt Uí Laoghaire,” a poem of lament. (Also considered the greatest poem written in Ireland and Britain in the 18th century). Does that sound dry and academic-y? I swear it’s not. Ní Ghríofa seamlessly weaves in her role as a mother and wife, her time as a medical student working on cadavers, a health scare, the eventual purchase of a home. The author says about her poetic obsession: “Perhaps I could honour Eibhlín Dubh’s life by building a truer image of her days, gathering every fact we hold to create a kaleidoscope, a spill of distinct moments, fractured but vivid.” So she does. Research is inserted poetically, conversationally. The threads are braided, snugly. Is A Ghost in the Throat its own epic poem? Maybe.
Obsession — and inspiration — activated.
originally published on instagram