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| Seamus Heaney, Irish Poet of Soil and Strife, Dies at 74 | Seamus Heaney, Irish Poet of Soil and Strife, Dies at 74 |
| (2 days later) | |
| Seamus Heaney, the 1995 Nobel laureate in literature, who was often called the greatest Irish poet since Yeats, died on Friday in Dublin. He was 74. | Seamus Heaney, the 1995 Nobel laureate in literature, who was often called the greatest Irish poet since Yeats, died on Friday in Dublin. He was 74. |
| His publisher, Faber & Faber, announced the death. The Irish poet Paul Muldoon, a longtime friend, said that Mr. Heaney was hospitalized after a fall on Thursday. Mr. Heaney had suffered a stroke in 2006. | His publisher, Faber & Faber, announced the death. The Irish poet Paul Muldoon, a longtime friend, said that Mr. Heaney was hospitalized after a fall on Thursday. Mr. Heaney had suffered a stroke in 2006. |
| In an address, President Michael D. Higgins of Ireland, himself a poet, praised Mr. Heaney’s “contribution to the republics of letters, conscience and humanity.” Enda Kenny, the Irish prime minister, said that Mr. Heaney’s death had brought “great sorrow to Ireland, to language and to literature.” | In an address, President Michael D. Higgins of Ireland, himself a poet, praised Mr. Heaney’s “contribution to the republics of letters, conscience and humanity.” Enda Kenny, the Irish prime minister, said that Mr. Heaney’s death had brought “great sorrow to Ireland, to language and to literature.” |
| A Roman Catholic native of Northern Ireland, Mr. Heaney was renowned for work that powerfully evoked the beauty and blood that together have come to define the modern Irish condition. The author of more than a dozen collections of poetry, as well as critical essays and works for the stage, he repeatedly explored the strife and uncertainties that have afflicted his homeland, while managing simultaneously to steer clear of polemic. | A Roman Catholic native of Northern Ireland, Mr. Heaney was renowned for work that powerfully evoked the beauty and blood that together have come to define the modern Irish condition. The author of more than a dozen collections of poetry, as well as critical essays and works for the stage, he repeatedly explored the strife and uncertainties that have afflicted his homeland, while managing simultaneously to steer clear of polemic. |
| Mr. Heaney (pronounced HEE-nee), who had made his home in Dublin since the 1970s, was known to a wide public for the profuse white hair and stentorian voice that befit his calling. He held lectureships at some of the world’s foremost universities, including Harvard, where, starting in the 1980s, he taught regularly for many years; Oxford; and the University of California, Berkeley. | Mr. Heaney (pronounced HEE-nee), who had made his home in Dublin since the 1970s, was known to a wide public for the profuse white hair and stentorian voice that befit his calling. He held lectureships at some of the world’s foremost universities, including Harvard, where, starting in the 1980s, he taught regularly for many years; Oxford; and the University of California, Berkeley. |
| As the trade magazine Publishers Weekly observed in 1995, Mr. Heaney “has an aura, if not a star power, shared by few contemporary poets, emanating as much from his leonine features and unpompous sense of civic responsibility as from the immediate accessibility of his lines.” | As the trade magazine Publishers Weekly observed in 1995, Mr. Heaney “has an aura, if not a star power, shared by few contemporary poets, emanating as much from his leonine features and unpompous sense of civic responsibility as from the immediate accessibility of his lines.” |
| Throughout his work, Mr. Heaney was consumed with morality. In his hands, a peat bog is not merely an emblematic feature of the Irish landscape; it is also a spiritual quagmire, evoking the deep ethical conundrums that have long pervaded the place. | Throughout his work, Mr. Heaney was consumed with morality. In his hands, a peat bog is not merely an emblematic feature of the Irish landscape; it is also a spiritual quagmire, evoking the deep ethical conundrums that have long pervaded the place. |
| “Yeats, despite being quite well known, despite his public role, actually didn’t have anything like the celebrity or, frankly, the ability to touch the people in the way that Seamus did,” Mr. Muldoon, a winner of the Pulitzer Prize and the poetry editor at The New Yorker, said in an interview on Friday. “It was almost like he was indistinguishable from the country. He was like a rock star who also happened to be a poet.” | “Yeats, despite being quite well known, despite his public role, actually didn’t have anything like the celebrity or, frankly, the ability to touch the people in the way that Seamus did,” Mr. Muldoon, a winner of the Pulitzer Prize and the poetry editor at The New Yorker, said in an interview on Friday. “It was almost like he was indistinguishable from the country. He was like a rock star who also happened to be a poet.” |
| Mr. Heaney was enraptured, as he once put it, by “words as bearers of history and mystery.” His poetry, which had an epiphanic quality, was suffused with references to pre-Christian myth — Celtic, of course, but also that of ancient Greece. His style, linguistically dazzling, was nonetheless lacking in the obscurity that can attend poetic pyrotechnics. | Mr. Heaney was enraptured, as he once put it, by “words as bearers of history and mystery.” His poetry, which had an epiphanic quality, was suffused with references to pre-Christian myth — Celtic, of course, but also that of ancient Greece. His style, linguistically dazzling, was nonetheless lacking in the obscurity that can attend poetic pyrotechnics. |
| At its best, Mr. Heaney’s work had both a meditative lyricism and an airy velocity. His lines could embody a dark, marshy melancholy, but as often as not they also communicated the wild onrushing joy of being alive. | At its best, Mr. Heaney’s work had both a meditative lyricism and an airy velocity. His lines could embody a dark, marshy melancholy, but as often as not they also communicated the wild onrushing joy of being alive. |
| The result — work that was finely wrought yet notably straightforward — made Mr. Heaney one of the most widely read poets in the world. | The result — work that was finely wrought yet notably straightforward — made Mr. Heaney one of the most widely read poets in the world. |
| Reviewing Mr. Heaney’s collection “North” in The New York Review of Books in 1976, the Irish poet Richard Murphy wrote: “His original power, which even the sternest critics bow to with respect, is that he can give you the feeling as you read his poems that you are actually doing what they describe. His words not only mean what they say, they sound like their meaning.” | Reviewing Mr. Heaney’s collection “North” in The New York Review of Books in 1976, the Irish poet Richard Murphy wrote: “His original power, which even the sternest critics bow to with respect, is that he can give you the feeling as you read his poems that you are actually doing what they describe. His words not only mean what they say, they sound like their meaning.” |
| Mr. Heaney made his reputation with his debut volume, “Death of a Naturalist,” published in 1966. In “Digging,” a poem from the collection, he explored the earthy roots of his art: | Mr. Heaney made his reputation with his debut volume, “Death of a Naturalist,” published in 1966. In “Digging,” a poem from the collection, he explored the earthy roots of his art: |
| Between my finger and my thumb | Between my finger and my thumb |
| The squat pen rests; snug as a gun. | The squat pen rests; snug as a gun. |
| Under my window, a clean rasping sound | Under my window, a clean rasping sound |
| When the spade sinks into gravelly ground: | When the spade sinks into gravelly ground: |
| My father, digging. I look down | My father, digging. I look down |
| Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds | Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds |
| Bends low, comes up twenty years away | Bends low, comes up twenty years away |
| Stooping in rhythm through potato drills | Stooping in rhythm through potato drills |
| Where he was digging. | Where he was digging. |
| The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft | The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft |
| Against the inside knee was levered firmly. | Against the inside knee was levered firmly. |
| He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep | He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep |
| To scatter new potatoes that we picked, | To scatter new potatoes that we picked, |
| Loving their cool hardness in our hands. | Loving their cool hardness in our hands. |
| By God, the old man could handle a spade. | By God, the old man could handle a spade. |
| Just like his old man. | Just like his old man. |
| My grandfather cut more turf in a day | My grandfather cut more turf in a day |
| Than any other man on Toner’s bog. | Than any other man on Toner’s bog. |
| Once I carried him milk in a bottle | Once I carried him milk in a bottle |
| Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up | Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up |
| To drink it, then fell to right away | To drink it, then fell to right away |
| Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods | Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods |
| Over his shoulder, going down and down | Over his shoulder, going down and down |
| For the good turf. Digging. | For the good turf. Digging. |
| The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap | The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap |
| Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge | Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge |
| Through living roots awaken in my head. | Through living roots awaken in my head. |
| But I’ve no spade to follow men like them. | But I’ve no spade to follow men like them. |
| Between my finger and my thumb | Between my finger and my thumb |
| The squat pen rests. | The squat pen rests. |
| I’ll dig with it. | I’ll dig with it. |
| Though Mr. Heaney’s poems often have pastoral settings, dewy rural romanticism is notably absent: instead, he depicts country life in all its harsh daily reality. His poem “A Drink of Water” opens this way: | Though Mr. Heaney’s poems often have pastoral settings, dewy rural romanticism is notably absent: instead, he depicts country life in all its harsh daily reality. His poem “A Drink of Water” opens this way: |
| She came every morning to draw water | She came every morning to draw water |
| Like an old bat staggering up the field: | Like an old bat staggering up the field: |
| The pump’s whooping cough, the bucket’s clatter | The pump’s whooping cough, the bucket’s clatter |
| And slow diminuendo as it filled, | And slow diminuendo as it filled, |
| Announced her. I recall | Announced her. I recall |
| Her grey apron, the pocked white enamel | Her grey apron, the pocked white enamel |
| Of the brimming bucket, and the treble | Of the brimming bucket, and the treble |
| Creak of her voice like the pump’s handle. | Creak of her voice like the pump’s handle. |
| Mr. Heaney was deeply self-identified as Irish, and much of his work overtly concerned the Troubles, as the long, violent sectarian conflict in late-20th-century Northern Ireland is known. | Mr. Heaney was deeply self-identified as Irish, and much of his work overtly concerned the Troubles, as the long, violent sectarian conflict in late-20th-century Northern Ireland is known. |
| But though he condemned British dominion in his homeland (he wrote: “Be advised, my passport’s green/No glass of ours was ever raised/To toast the Queen”), Mr. Heaney refused to disown British tradition — and especially British literature — altogether. | But though he condemned British dominion in his homeland (he wrote: “Be advised, my passport’s green/No glass of ours was ever raised/To toast the Queen”), Mr. Heaney refused to disown British tradition — and especially British literature — altogether. |
| The writers who influenced him deeply, he said, included not only the Irishmen William Butler Yeats and James Joyce but also the Englishman Thomas Hardy. | The writers who influenced him deeply, he said, included not only the Irishmen William Butler Yeats and James Joyce but also the Englishman Thomas Hardy. |
| In his poem “Whatever You Say, Say Nothing,” whose title became a byword in Northern Ireland for the linguistic subterfuge that underpins biographical conversations, Mr. Heaney wrote: | In his poem “Whatever You Say, Say Nothing,” whose title became a byword in Northern Ireland for the linguistic subterfuge that underpins biographical conversations, Mr. Heaney wrote: |
| Smoke-signals are loud-mouthed compared with us: | Smoke-signals are loud-mouthed compared with us: |
| Manoeuvrings to find out name and school, | Manoeuvrings to find out name and school, |
| Subtle discrimination by addresses | Subtle discrimination by addresses |
| With hardly an exception to the rule | With hardly an exception to the rule |
| That Norman, Ken and Sidney signalled Prod | That Norman, Ken and Sidney signalled Prod |
| And Seamus (call me Sean) was sure-fire Pape. | And Seamus (call me Sean) was sure-fire Pape. |
| O land of password, handgrip, wink and nod, | O land of password, handgrip, wink and nod, |
| Of open minds as open as a trap, | Of open minds as open as a trap, |
| Where tongues lie coiled, as under flames lie wicks, | Where tongues lie coiled, as under flames lie wicks, |
| Where half of us, as in a wooden horse | Where half of us, as in a wooden horse |
| Were cabin’d and confined like wily Greeks, | Were cabin’d and confined like wily Greeks, |
| Besieged within the siege, whispering morse. | Besieged within the siege, whispering morse. |
| As a result of Mr. Heaney’s inclusive stance, some supporters of the Irish Republican cause condemned him as accommodationist. His rejoinder can be found, for instance, in lines from his 1974 essay on the Russian poet Osip Mandelstam, who was exiled to Siberia by Stalin’s regime and died there in 1938. | As a result of Mr. Heaney’s inclusive stance, some supporters of the Irish Republican cause condemned him as accommodationist. His rejoinder can be found, for instance, in lines from his 1974 essay on the Russian poet Osip Mandelstam, who was exiled to Siberia by Stalin’s regime and died there in 1938. |
| In the essay, Mr. Heaney set forth an observation that could be applied with equal force to contemporary Ireland: | In the essay, Mr. Heaney set forth an observation that could be applied with equal force to contemporary Ireland: |
| “We live here in critical times ourselves, when the idea of poetry as an art is in danger of being overshadowed by a quest for poetry as a diagram of political attitudes,” he wrote. “Some commentators have all the fussy literalism of an official from the ministry of truth.” | “We live here in critical times ourselves, when the idea of poetry as an art is in danger of being overshadowed by a quest for poetry as a diagram of political attitudes,” he wrote. “Some commentators have all the fussy literalism of an official from the ministry of truth.” |
| The eldest of nine children of a cattle dealer, Seamus Justin Heaney was born on April 13, 1939, at Mossbawn, his family’s farm in County Derry, west of Belfast. The farm’s name would appear throughout his work. Mr. Heaney’s intoxication with language, he said in a 1974 lecture, “Feeling into Words,” “began very early when my mother used to recite lists of affixes and suffixes, and Latin roots, with their English meanings, rhymes that formed part of her schooling in the early part of the century.” | The eldest of nine children of a cattle dealer, Seamus Justin Heaney was born on April 13, 1939, at Mossbawn, his family’s farm in County Derry, west of Belfast. The farm’s name would appear throughout his work. Mr. Heaney’s intoxication with language, he said in a 1974 lecture, “Feeling into Words,” “began very early when my mother used to recite lists of affixes and suffixes, and Latin roots, with their English meanings, rhymes that formed part of her schooling in the early part of the century.” |
| Later in the lecture, he ventured an alternative scenario: “Maybe it was stirred by the beautiful sprung rhythms of the old BBC weather forecast: Dogger, Rockall, Malin, Shetland, Faroes, Finisterre; or with the gorgeous and inane phraseology of the catechism; or with the litany of the Blessed Virgin that was part of the enforced poetry in our household: Tower of Gold, Ark of the Covenant, Gate of Heaven, Morning Star, Health of the Sick, Refuge of Sinners, Comforter of the Afflicted.” | Later in the lecture, he ventured an alternative scenario: “Maybe it was stirred by the beautiful sprung rhythms of the old BBC weather forecast: Dogger, Rockall, Malin, Shetland, Faroes, Finisterre; or with the gorgeous and inane phraseology of the catechism; or with the litany of the Blessed Virgin that was part of the enforced poetry in our household: Tower of Gold, Ark of the Covenant, Gate of Heaven, Morning Star, Health of the Sick, Refuge of Sinners, Comforter of the Afflicted.” |
| In 1961, Mr. Heaney earned a bachelor’s degree with first class honors in English language and literature from Queen’s University of Belfast. He wrote poetry as a student, publishing under the modest pseudonym Incertus, the Latin word for “doubtful.” | In 1961, Mr. Heaney earned a bachelor’s degree with first class honors in English language and literature from Queen’s University of Belfast. He wrote poetry as a student, publishing under the modest pseudonym Incertus, the Latin word for “doubtful.” |
| He went on to earn a teaching certificate in English from St. Joseph’s College in Belfast and was later appointed to the faculty there. He began writing poetry seriously in the mid-1960s, joining a workshop led by the noted Northern Irish poet Derek Mahon. | He went on to earn a teaching certificate in English from St. Joseph’s College in Belfast and was later appointed to the faculty there. He began writing poetry seriously in the mid-1960s, joining a workshop led by the noted Northern Irish poet Derek Mahon. |
| Mr. Heaney followed “Death of a Naturalist” with collections including “Door Into the Dark” (1969), “Wintering Out” (1972), “Station Island” (1984) and “The Midnight Verdict,” published in 1993. | Mr. Heaney followed “Death of a Naturalist” with collections including “Door Into the Dark” (1969), “Wintering Out” (1972), “Station Island” (1984) and “The Midnight Verdict,” published in 1993. |
| In 1995, he became the fourth Irishman to win the Nobel in literature, following Yeats, who received it in 1923; George Bernard Shaw (1925); and Samuel Beckett (1969). | In 1995, he became the fourth Irishman to win the Nobel in literature, following Yeats, who received it in 1923; George Bernard Shaw (1925); and Samuel Beckett (1969). |
| In awarding the prize to Mr. Heaney, the Swedish Academy cited his “works of lyrical beauty and ethical depth, which exalt everyday miracles and the living past” and also commended his cleareyed analysis of the Northern Ireland conflict. | In awarding the prize to Mr. Heaney, the Swedish Academy cited his “works of lyrical beauty and ethical depth, which exalt everyday miracles and the living past” and also commended his cleareyed analysis of the Northern Ireland conflict. |
| Though Mr. Heaney was lauded throughout his career, a few critics condemned his work as facile. | Though Mr. Heaney was lauded throughout his career, a few critics condemned his work as facile. |
| “If Heaney really is the best we can do, then the whole troubled, exploratory thrust of modern poetry has been a diversion from the right true way,” the poet and critic Al Alvarez (also known as A. Alvarez) said in The New York Review of Books in 1980, reviewing Mr. Heaney’s collection “Field Work.” Mr. Alvarez continued: | “If Heaney really is the best we can do, then the whole troubled, exploratory thrust of modern poetry has been a diversion from the right true way,” the poet and critic Al Alvarez (also known as A. Alvarez) said in The New York Review of Books in 1980, reviewing Mr. Heaney’s collection “Field Work.” Mr. Alvarez continued: |
| “Eliot and his contemporaries, Lowell and his, Plath and hers had it all wrong: to try to make clearings of sense and discipline and style in the untamed, unfenced darkness was to mistake morbidity for inspiration.” | “Eliot and his contemporaries, Lowell and his, Plath and hers had it all wrong: to try to make clearings of sense and discipline and style in the untamed, unfenced darkness was to mistake morbidity for inspiration.” |
| Among Mr. Heaney’s other volumes of poetry are “The Spirit Level” (1996); “Opened Ground: Selected Poems, 1966-1996” (1998); “Electric Light” (2001); “District and Circle” (2006); and his last, “Human Chain,” published in 2010. | Among Mr. Heaney’s other volumes of poetry are “The Spirit Level” (1996); “Opened Ground: Selected Poems, 1966-1996” (1998); “Electric Light” (2001); “District and Circle” (2006); and his last, “Human Chain,” published in 2010. |
| Mr. Heaney’s survivors include his wife, the former Marie Devlin, whom he married in 1965; two sons, Christopher and Michael; and a daughter, Catherine, The Associated Press reported. | Mr. Heaney’s survivors include his wife, the former Marie Devlin, whom he married in 1965; two sons, Christopher and Michael; and a daughter, Catherine, The Associated Press reported. |
| His other writings include critical essays on Yeats, Joyce, Joseph Brodsky, Ted Hughes, Stevie Smith and Italo Calvino; “Finders Keepers: Selected Prose, 1971-2001” (2002); and a verse translation of “Beowulf” published in 2000. | His other writings include critical essays on Yeats, Joyce, Joseph Brodsky, Ted Hughes, Stevie Smith and Italo Calvino; “Finders Keepers: Selected Prose, 1971-2001” (2002); and a verse translation of “Beowulf” published in 2000. |
| In “The Cure at Troy,” his 1991 verse adaptation of Sophocles’ play “Philoctetes,” about the Trojan War, Mr. Heaney wrote these evocative lines: | In “The Cure at Troy,” his 1991 verse adaptation of Sophocles’ play “Philoctetes,” about the Trojan War, Mr. Heaney wrote these evocative lines: |
| History says, Don’t hope | History says, Don’t hope |
| On this side of the grave. | On this side of the grave. |
| But then, once in a lifetime | But then, once in a lifetime |
| The longed-for tidal wave | The longed-for tidal wave |
| Of justice can rise up, | Of justice can rise up, |
| And hope and history rhyme. | And hope and history rhyme. |
| In April, Vice President Joseph R. Biden, citing Mr. Heaney as “one of my favorite poets,” quoted those lines at the memorial service for Sean Collier, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology police officer killed in the aftermath of the Boston Marathon bombings. | In April, Vice President Joseph R. Biden, citing Mr. Heaney as “one of my favorite poets,” quoted those lines at the memorial service for Sean Collier, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology police officer killed in the aftermath of the Boston Marathon bombings. |
| Mr. Heaney was the subject of a spate of critics’ studies and the biographical volume “Seamus Heaney: The Making of the Poet” (1993), by Michael Parker. | Mr. Heaney was the subject of a spate of critics’ studies and the biographical volume “Seamus Heaney: The Making of the Poet” (1993), by Michael Parker. |
| In a 1991 interview with the British newsmagazine The Economist, Mr. Heaney described his essential professional mandate. | In a 1991 interview with the British newsmagazine The Economist, Mr. Heaney described his essential professional mandate. |
| “The poet is on the side of undeceiving the world,” he said. “It means being vigilant in the public realm. But you can go further still and say that poetry tries to help you to be a truer, purer, wholer being.” | “The poet is on the side of undeceiving the world,” he said. “It means being vigilant in the public realm. But you can go further still and say that poetry tries to help you to be a truer, purer, wholer being.” |
James C. McKinley Jr. contributed reporting. | James C. McKinley Jr. contributed reporting. |
| This article has been revised to reflect the following correction: | This article has been revised to reflect the following correction: |
| Correction: August 30, 2013 | Correction: August 30, 2013 |
Because of an editing error, an earlier version of this obituary referred incorrectly to the prime minister of Ireland. Enda Kenny, the prime minister, is a man. The earlier version also misstated the name of the institution from which Mr. Heaney received a bachelor’s degree. It is Queen’s University of Belfast, not Queen’s College. | Because of an editing error, an earlier version of this obituary referred incorrectly to the prime minister of Ireland. Enda Kenny, the prime minister, is a man. The earlier version also misstated the name of the institution from which Mr. Heaney received a bachelor’s degree. It is Queen’s University of Belfast, not Queen’s College. |
| This article has been revised to reflect the following correction: | |
| Correction: September 6, 2013 | |
An obituary on Saturday about the poet Seamus Heaney omitted a reporting credit. James C. McKinley Jr. contributed reporting. |