Books like Thirty-Two Words for Field

There are newer versions of this book, often described as the “Illiad/Odyssey” of Irish tradition, but this is the classic translation from 1969.

Kinsella was a poet and a Gaeilgeoir (Irish speaker) so he really understood this text due to his deep knowledge of the source language and of Irish poetic norms, plus he spent 15 years lovingly translating it into the best English facsimile possible.

This is one of (if not the most) important myths of Ireland and is an essential read for those interested in Irish mythology.

Stranded on a dark road in the middle of the night, a young woman accepts a lift from a passing stranger.

It’s the nightmare scenario that every girl is warned about, and she knows the dangers all too well – but what other choice does she have? As they drive, she alternates between fear and relief – one moment thinking he is just a good man doing a good thing, the next convinced he’s a monster.

But a monster is exactly what she's looking for. When the driver drops her safely home Lucy’s heart sinks. She will have to try again tomorrow night. She’s made herself the bait, in her bid to find the man who took her sister.

Set in and around Dublin and the Dublin mountains, this gripping read from the author of The Nothing Man and 56 Days will keep you guessing until the very end. But… show more.

Patricia Forde is one of the stars of Irish writing, and this magical book was always meant to inspire a song. It’s the story of Fia, who longs to visit the mythical island of Hy Brasil, and finally reaches it by walking across a moonbeam. Her adventures with creatures, real and legendary, are realised in glowing illustrations by Nicola Bernardelli. The book was commissioned by Galway 2020 European Capital of Culture with versions in Irish and in English. Local composer Anna Mullarkey wrote a song to accompany it. Story, song, and pictures combine to show how a child’s imagination becomes part of the enchantment of a special place: “Fia felt the pull of magic in the air / and the pull of her own strong heart.”

The Call picks up on the horror element I loved in Buffy. In this alternative world, the Irish have banished the Sidhe, but as revenge, the Sidhe call Irish teens to their land, where they are hunted for 24 hours. You don’t know who will be called, or when, but eventually, it will be your turn. School is all about helping teens learn to survive when they are taken. Three minutes pass in our world before you are returned. But in what state? I loved the concept of this novel, and the main character will hit you in all the feels!

What is it in the life of a person that deserves the light of language? This question is far and away the most important question a writer faces. Very few writers seem to be acutely aware of this fact. Very few writers are rigorous enough to remain with the challenge of the question; once a writer begins to write, that is, there is so much that asks for it to be forgotten.

I marvel at Murnane’s capacity to resist such forgetfulness.

These poems—most of every poem that Lee writes, really—do more than paint a picture. These poems appeal to every one of your senses. They are rich in description and you want to savor each one, sit with it, and let the poem envelop you. 

I heard or read somewhere that Li-Young Lee is a slow writer, not producing a lot of work but always producing good work. I don’t know if this is true, and except for my greed of wanting to consume more of his words asap, I don’t mind that his poems are slower coming. I like to spend time with them.

I share Rose because Lee teaches me—and my students—that writers depend too much on visual imagery and fear spreading out into the other senses.

I was so moved when I read The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne that it inspired me to write my novel with my protagonist Laurence J Benbo as a male equivalent of Judith Hearne, an innocent exploited by an uncaring world. The quotidian details of Judith’s life are delineated brilliantly by Moore in all her wretchedness reminiscent of some of the characters in Joyce’s Dubliners which Moore would have read and which possibly influenced him. The dark surroundings of Judith’s life lead her into a fantasy world aided by her one necessary weakness—alcohol. But, as Moore points out, it doesn’t have to end tragically. There is a glimmer of hope with life going on, but nothing as before.

I love this book because it features three vastly different women in three very different family environments. Devin, a soon to be single mom, Caroline, a wife of an abusive husband and Maggie, a wife and mother in a family where she holds no value.

Even though these women and their situations couldn’t be more different, they find solace in one another, proving that sometimes family is what you make. I read this book while in my high school years, and it captured my attention and turned me into a devoted women’s fiction reader. 

Townshend is a foremost British historian of his country’s rule in Ireland. He and the late Michael Hopkinson (whose books include Green Against Green about the Irish Civil War) are among British academics who have helped to educate the UK public on the impact of imperialism in Ireland.

Townshend astutely argues that the Catholic dimension of Irish republicanism has distinguished it from other forms.

Let’s be clear: the title is ironic. This is a love story, told mostly in retrospect. Well, it’s not love exactly. It’s sex. Or a kind of twisted idea of romance. It’s attraction anyway, not quite obsessive, but close. And it’s mysterious. Who are these people? How do they connect to each other? How do they know each other? Do they even like each other? Why/why not?

The answers, if readers can identify them, are not reassuring. And yet... I loved this book, read it twice, straight off. It’s partly the descriptions of the physical world – natural and constructed – always partial, never conclusive, that are so attractive to read. 

And it’s a very young book. Exhilarating.