Irish Women in Literature event

I'm reading at this free 2 day Irish Women in Literature event at Strokestown Park, Thursday 5th October. All welcome!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, EMILY

Emily's 186th birthday today. A reminder that my novel Miss Emily is the Book on One next week on RTÉ Radio 1.

MISS EMILY - BOOK ON ONE

Emily's Homestead - pic from Emily Dickinson Museum

Miss Emily is the Book on One, on RTÉ Radio 1, from 12th Dec, timely for Emily's 186th birthday which is on the 10th of December.

MISS EMILY - THE BOOK ON ONE

Just a wee reminder that Miss Emily is the Book on One this week. It will broadcast each night at 11.20pm until Friday the 17th June on RTÉ Radio 1. The first podcast is already live here.

MISS EMILY - THE BOOK ON ONE

 

Miss Emily is the Book on One next week. It will broadcast each night at 11.20pm from Monday the 13th to Friday the 17th June on RTÉ Radio 1. I did the reading, which was a first for me (my novels YOU and The Closet of Savage Mementos were voiced by actors). Tune in on radio at FM 88.9 or online here. Huge thanks to producer Siobhán Mannion, who is also a writer of some very fine fiction.

MISS EMILY - 99p/$1.45

Miss Emily is 99p on kindle in their sale! Go here. And just $1.45 here.

KATHLEEN GRISSOM'S TOP 14 HISTORICAL NOVELS

Kathleen Grissom, author of The Kitchen House, has included Miss Emily in her top 14 historical novels at Off the Shelf. Which is rather lovely. The list contains lots of book to add to the TBR pile. See here.

MISS EMILY REVIEW AT DBR

Writer Adam Wyeth has given Miss Emily a beautiful review in this essay at the Dublin Review of Books. I am posting it in full here in case it disappears from their site.

THE THING WITH FEATHERS

Adam Wyeth

Miss Emily, by Nuala O’Connor, Sandstone Press, 350 pp, €8.99, ISBN: 978-1910124550

Nuala O’Connor’s novel Miss Emily is more than a portrait of a poet executed with exquisite precision. It offers a fresh, enhancing approach to Dickinson’s inner life, showing a woman with zest and independence of mind.

One of the big mysteries that continues to dog Emily Dickinson critics and biographers is why one of America’s foremost poets spent most of her time indoors, never married and indeed hardly left her childhood home till the day she died? Was she depressed, agoraphobic or bipolar? While there is no conclusive evidence that she suffered from any such condition, this hasn’t stopped critics from drawing a myriad of conclusions. While speculation is well and good, the level of scrutiny and diagnoses in recent years has often tended to be reductive, taking from the work and the poet herself. So it is refreshing that in Nuala O’Connor’s meticulously honed new novel Miss Emily the story avoids any labels and instead offers a fresh, enhancing approach to Dickinson’s inner life – showing a woman with zest and independence of mind and an artist absorbed in her work and art.

This is not to say that Miss Emily doesn’t explore deeper and darker aspects. Everything in the novel is touched with a darkness that recoils and simmers under the surface of everyday life. While Miss Emily is fiction, O’Connor’s research on the poet is extensive and we get a strong sense of Dickinson’s true personality. Enthusiasts will recognise many poetical strands and biographical titbits woven into the narrative. As an accomplished poet herself, O’Connor is well versed in metaphor and telling the truth slant. Indeed it is her lyrical gift at skilfully lifting daily domestic activities into something almost mythical, rich with resonance and suggestion that makes Miss Emily such an engrossing read.

The novel opens in Amherst, Massachusetts. Homestead, the Dickinson family home, is in disarray after their long-term Irish maid has left to create a family of her own. The smell of burnt potatoes presages another Irish maid to follow. Each chapter alternates between Emily Dickinson and her maid-to-be Ada Concannon. We first meet Ada, on a sunny day in June, aged seventeen, soaking herself in the river Liffey, against her parents’ wishes. The bucolic image linked to the river goddess is the first of many interlaced mythological symbols. The river also signals a longer journey to follow across the water to the New World.

Despite the upstairs-downstairs scenario, Emily and Ada immediately strike up a close friendship, both sharing a sense of mischief and a love of baking. Although the American poet and Irish maid may appear to be poles apart the dual point of view creates some intriguing parallels and insights. Dickinson describes Ada as having, “a superior, petulant face, but when she smiles, she glows like a window opening on a bright day. I want to make her smile.” Does the final line offer a slight hint of something else desired, as well as friendship? The hidden suggestion also extends to the intimate relationship Dickinson has with her sister-in-law. Miss Emily loves to spend time with Ada and says how she admires the Irish, “ … how they spin a narrative around every small thing. I feel somewhat Irish in my core.” However, Emily’s brother Austin is less enamoured of Ada and offers the more common prejudicial attitude towards the Irish. “Do not be fooled by her mellifluousness — all Irish people lie … You have to understand that there is a certain island madness about the Irish; they are unhinged and vicious.”

At times the intimate friendship and psychological drama that unfolds have intimations of a Strindberg play. In fact, Strindberg’s similarly titled haunting masterpiece Miss Julie takes place in one domestic setting, mostly in the kitchen – as does Miss Emily – between the lady of the house and her servant. No doubt the author is more than aware of this relation and the similar title is a nod in the play’s direction.

It takes a writer of keen perception to portray and capture a life in a whole novel within a confined setting; O’Connor does so with remarkable tenacity and panache. Her sheer relish for rendering nineteenth century American domestic life and her gift for finding the mot juste brings the Dickinson home to life. “I am in the habit of this house, and it is in the habit of me,” Dickinson says. Homestead becomes almost a character itself. In Freudian analysis the home is a symbol of the self. Thus every item and room of the house can be seen as a different part of the poet’s psyche.

Exquisitely detailed descriptions of home care and cooking ripple and steam off every page. Every domestic moment is magnified with the crisp artistry of a Vermeer painting. But the level of intense, sensory detail displays more than just atmosphere. As well as conveying Dickinson’s intense and piercing perception, each description lends itself to an ever-deepening tapestry of patterns and symbolism, revealing the darker emotions and unconscious stirrings beneath. The zoom lens clarity and visual storytelling become a superb and subtle plot device foreshadowing traumatic events to come. Moreover, like so many period dramas, it is the stiff-collared, hemmed-in Puritanism that makes each scene all the more tantalising, as when Ada puts her lips to her admirer, Daniel’s, cup, to “drink back the lukewarm dregs of his tea”. As much as O’Connor does an assured job for capturing the language of the period, she avoids getting entangled in any antiquated purple prose. The carefully selected concrete details within descriptions are poetry enough.

This bright window into Dickinson’s private world also offers many insights into her poetical development. A key moment is when Dickinson decides to wear only white. “My very whiteness will be my muse,” she says. It acts as the foundation of her poetic vocation, much like an actor embodying the character in a play when he or she puts on the costume. She is born again. “Like a revenant,” her mother remarks. Rather than seeing Dickinson’s sartorial decision as some mental infliction, O’Connor shows it as a moment of artistic epiphany, turning Dickinson’s desire for crisp white clothing as a moment of metamorphosis. It is as if she has turned herself into a clean white page. Such epiphanic moments are well recorded with many major writers. For Synge, it was when he was encouraged by Yeats to go and live among the people of the west of Ireland, to learn their language and write about their ways. For Beckett it was the decision to write in French that allowed him to purify his prose and move out of Joyce’s overbearing shadow.

Instead of getting caught up in the impossible task of diagnosing the poet as having a mental illness, critics might be equally attentive of the mad world she retreated from. No man is an island, but all artists need to withdraw from the world to create their work. “Hope is the thing with feathers” is one of Dickinson’s most famous lines. It is that delicate, elusive thing in her work that continues to inspire succeeding generations. Executed with exquisite precision, Miss Emily is more than a portrait of a poet. Like a Dickinson poem itself, it is a rare bird of radiant plumage darting through the air, striking and transcendental but impossible to pin down.

The New York Journal of Books reviews Miss Emily

The New York Journal of Books has reviewed Miss Emily here.

A hen reviews *Miss Emily*

A hen has written a review of Miss Emily. A hen called Ms. Hen. It's an odd review, to say the least.

A sample: 'Ms. Hen thinks there’s a possibility Miss Emily would die many times over if she read Nuala O’Connor’s novel. But Ms. Hen doesn’t know. Nobody knows what Emily Dickinson would think because not much is known about her.'

See? Odd. Plenty is known about Emily Dickinson. Perhaps Ms. Hen should do her homework. And how exactly does one 'die many times over'?

The rest of it is here if you could be bothered.

EDINBURGH PICS

Tins of shortbread in a shop window

I had a lovely Miss Emily event, with chairperson/interviewer Sasha de Buyl-Pisco, at the Central Library in Edinburgh on Thursday. Had a warm welcome from Bronwen at the library, the event was well attended, and the audience were very lively and engaged.

Edinburgh is such a fantastic city, so ancient and beautifully laid out and designed; I always love going there. Our trip basically consisted of walking, rummaging for glass, books and ceramics in charity shops, and eating cake. (We had Earl Grey Cake!) Heaven for me, pretty much.

We were midly cultural: we went to an exhib about diseases in the National Library, called 'Plague!', and another about famous Scottish people (mostly men, it must be said.) And we explored some churches. But it was mainly cake. And walking.

A few pics:

St Cuthbert's graveyard with the castle above

Swedish pastry in Peter's Yard, Stockbridge - yum...

Burns Night goodies, Stockbridge

This had us in stitches - the Ladybird Book of the Hipster - in a hipster café

Greyfriars Bobby - sat by his master's grave for 14 years. Patient dog.

Patisserie Valerie goodies - we had brekky here one morning

Sunlight on Bow Street

The Bow Bar - pub we adjourned to after the event, cosy and small

We stayed in the Grassmarket so were up and down Bow Street,
and in and out of its fab shops, a lot

Deacon Brodie's on the Royal Mile

Sasha and me, at the Miss Emily event in the Central Library

Smiling Sasha :)

It rained a bit, but when you are somewhere so lovely, it doesn't matter.

EDINBURGH GIG

On Thursday 21st January I am in Edinburgh Central Library at 7pm reading from Miss Emily. And being interviewed by Sasha deBuyl-Pisco. Admission is free but you must get a ticket - there are currently 10 remaining. See here.

Crescent Arts with Miss Emily

Cathy McNally will interview me this Thursday at Crescent Arts Centre, Belfast, about Miss Emily. I will also read from the book and sign copies. Let your Belfast mates know! Bookings here.

Cathy's blog, 746 Books - Confessions of a Book Buying Addict is well worth a peruse. See here.

*Miss Emily* is a Best Book of 2015 in Canada

Very nice to be told (by super-sleuth writer Anakana Schofield) that Miss Emily is a Best Book of 2015 at Amazon Canada. The complete list is here.

MISS EMILY XMAS GIVEAWAY

It being almost Christmas, and nearly D-Day for postage abroad, I am giving away a copy of Miss Emily to one reader of this blog. I will post to anywhere in the world. All you have to do is leave a comment on this blogpost to say you would like to be in the draw. Simples. (And then come back on Sunday to see if you have won!)

IRISH INDO - BAKING & *MISS EMILY*

I have a feature in today's Irish Independent about me, Emily D and baking. I am grinning rather manically. The photographer was Andrew Downes, a super-nice fella from Galway. We had a laugh with the sieving etc. Click and zoom to read.

Historical Novel Society *Miss Emily* feature

I'm very pleased that Arleigh Johnson has a feature in the Historical Novels Review, and online at the Historical Novel Society site, about Miss Emily and the use of real vs fictional characters. It's here but for members only, so here's the content below. I hope it's OK for me to re-blog it. I'll find out soon enough if not, no doubt.

Nuala O’Connor’s Miss Emily: Real Versus Fictional Characters

ARLEIGH JOHNSON

Narrating a novel in the voice of a well-known historical figure can be a daunting task. One must be both true to historical fact while giving the fictionalized version a believable and engaging persona. Another pitfall, especially when reimaging a writer’s life, may be the use of too many phrases from the author’s works, thus taking away the opportunity to give a fresh perspective on a well-studied subject.Miss Emily (Penguin US, Sandstone UK, 2015) avoids monopolizing poetic verses, using instead clever reasoning behind the characters’ actions and ponderings that relate to recorded words and peculiarities of the historical people.

Based on a period during the life of American poet and writer Emily Dickinson, the story follows two protagonists: Emily herself, and a fictional character from O’Connor’s own hometown in Ireland. Ada Concannon, a newly arrived Irish immigrant, is looking for work while staying with her Amherst, Massachusetts relatives. The Dickinsons are without a maid, and Emily and her sister have been dividing the chores, which leaves little time for other pursuits. It is with much relief that Ada is hired, ultimately moving in with the family to take care of kitchen and laundry duties, as well as other chores.

Emily, surprisingly to those not acquainted with the poet’s personal life, loved to bake, and she spends time in the kitchen with Ada, forming a bond between the women that is frowned upon by the elder Dickinsons. Emily’s brother, Austin, is portrayed as especially vehement about separating the social classes and behaving accordingly, although this was one of O’Connor’s fictions. She explains: “In reality, I think he was a much more fair-minded, generous, and genteel man than I have made him in my book, but I needed to serve the plot.” In fact, much of the conflict in the story deals with Emily’s shying away from Amherst society and withdrawing into her small circle, of which Ada becomes an increasingly important part. The kitchen comes to be a sanctuary for both women; for one as the means of living an independent life, and quite the opposite for the other. For Emily, it is sharing a part of herself that no one — not even her mother, sister or beloved sister-in-law, Susan — has witnessed.

Ada, as a fictitious addition to Emily’s world, provides much needed malleability as a character, which helps meet O’Connor’s creative demands. “It turned out [Emily] did have Irish maids, but I invented a new one so that I would not be working two real lives into fiction. I needed some room to imagine.” The author achieves a link between Emily and Ada by giving them similar traits, such as an interest in nature and a way with words. Ada is no poet, but her plain, blunt dialog sprinkled with her mother’s Irish sayings and superstitions gives inspiration to Emily, igniting the poet’s curiosity and muse. In the author’s words, “They are noticers — nothing escapes them.”

This novel, written in dual voices, works exceedingly well in blending fact and fiction. For those with a cursory knowledge of Dickinson’s life and poetry, the imagined content fits pleasingly with the mid-19^th century setting. The poet’s verses, though cleverly interlaced within the narrative in various forms, are not noticeable replicas, as has been apparent in similar fictional biographies. A refreshing take on one of the noted periods of her life — Emily’s famous transition to wearing only white — is deftly woven into the story with thought and humor, as is her habit of distributing gingerbread cookies to the children in the neighborhood. Readers are given an admirable and respectable impression of a character who could as easily be seen as an odd recluse. Without both perspectives, there wouldn’t be an endearing depth of feeling between the characters. Ada’s inclusion, as a blank page to Emily’s strictly documented existence, works as an effective tool in creating an enthralling biographical novel.

THE GUARDIAN - MISS EMILY REVIEW

Thrilled with this Guardian review of Miss Emily from Jane Housham - short but positive. My first ever Guardian review - wheee! I'm putting the whole text here in case the link vamooses.

Miss Emily by Nuala O'Connor - Review:
The Secret Life of Emily Dickinson

T

he ‘“Miss Emily” of the title is the 19th-century poet Emily Dickinson. Into a meticulous re-creation of the Dickinson family home in Amherst, Massachusetts, Irish novelist Nuala O’Connor introduces a fictional maid-of-all-work, Ada Concannon, fresh off the boat from Dublin. In alternating first-person accounts by her two protagonists, O’Connor explores Dickinson’s strong capacity for friendship in spite of her impulse to withdraw from the company of others. Her defining openness to the world allows her (compels her, even) to ignore the conventions of class and to see in lowly Ada someone worth knowing. Living under the same roof, the two women find common ground in a love of baking – and Ada’s use of language, untutored but rich in Irish idiom, is a pleasure and stimulus to the poet’s ear. Lyndall Gordon’s 2010 book on Dickinsonsuggested that her reclusive lifestyle and even her insistence on wearing white dresses might be explained by a medical diagnosis, but here they are interpreted as an effort to free her imagination within self-imposed restrictions. Both women suffer a loss of freedom (Ada’s particularly harrowing) and, through their friendship, find a kind of escape as well.

To order Miss Emily for £6.99 (RRP £8.99) go to hop.theguardian.com or call 0330 333 6846. Free UK p&p over £10, online orders only. Phone orders min p&p of £1.99.

Reading from 'Miss Emily' at Kennys Books

TASTEBOOK PIECE ON EMILY DICKINSON & BAKING

I managed to miss this when it was posted, but how lovely is the illustration that goes with it? It's by Ariella Elovic. My piece on Emily Dickinson and baking here at Tastebook.