Lines Written on a Seat on the Grand Canal, Dublin

Patrick Kavanagh

        'Erected to the Memory of Mrs. Dermot O'Brien'

 O commemorate me where there is water,
 Canal water preferably, so stilly
 Greeny at the heart of summer, Brother
 Commemorate me thus beautifully.
 Where by a lock Niagariously roars
 The falls for those who sit in the tremendous silence
 Of mid-July. No one will speak in prose
 Who finds his way to these Parnassian islands
 A swan goes by head low with many apologies.
 Fantastic light looks through the eyes of bridges
 And look! a barge comes bringing from Athy
 And other far-flung towns mythologies.
 O commemorate me with no hero-courageous
 Tomb -- just a canal-bank seat for the passer-by.

Commentary

Any poem about, or set at, a canal, has to remind me of Patrick Kavanagh.

What are known as his “canal-bank poems” come from a time when he was recuperating after an operation in which he had a lung removed. They are gentle and ruminative, in places self-deprecatory. This is my favourite - how about that swan? Kavanagh showed that the mundane and the ordinary can form the basis for fine poetry. In a note to Poem #971 (“Raglan Road”), I pointed out that as requested here, he is commemorated by a seat on the Grand Canal. There is now also a bronze of him on another seat - but you cannot sit beside the poet for a photograph because he has placed his hat strategically where someone might sit. He was a prickly character at the best of times, so it is appropriate that he should be figuratively keeping people at arm’s length.

Kavanagh was in the news some time ago when Russell Crowe tried to recite the following early Kavanagh poem at a BAFTA Awards ceremony and had to be physically removed from the stage. It is said that this ruckus was what caused him to be overlooked for the Oscar he should have received for A Beautiful Mind.

“Sanctity”

 To be a poet and not know the trade
 To be a lover and repel all women
 Twin ironies by which great saints are made
 The agonising pincer-jaws of heaven.

– Patrick Kavanagh

— Frank O’Shea


The Wondering Minstrels, poem #1878 · 6 June 2006

Guest poem submitted by Frank O'Shea

Fair use