“As Clear as It Needs to Be”: A Conversation with Thomas Kinsella Adrienne Leavy and Thomas Kinsella (bio) from the Archives This article originally appeared in New Hibernia Review 24:1. the following interview, first published in Reading Ireland, is given to New Hibernia Review in advance of its inclusion in a book of essays on Thomas Kinsella that is forthcoming from Wake Forest University Press. The Wake Forest collection is edited by Adrienne Leavy, with essays by writers on the varied aspects of the poet’s career. Thomas Kinsella’s interview, with email questions from Adrienne Leavy in Phoenix, Arizona, and replies from Dublin, gives his memories of growing up in working-class Dublin; his time as an Irish civil servant and in US universities; and many general comments, in particular on publishing and politics, poetry and the poetic process. ________ AL: You grew up in the Inchicore-Kilmainham area of Dublin. In your book A Dublin Documentary (2006), which is part memoir, part poetry book, you refer to this place as “The Ranch.” Could you describe what it was like growing up in Dublin in the 1930s and 1940s? TK: Inchicore is a district on the western outskirts of Dublin. The Ranch is a settlement of six small streets westward from Inchicore. In the 1930s and 1940s if you went one step further westward from The Ranch you were heading into the country toward Ballyfermot and picking blackberries. I believe The Ranch was designed for workers on the Great Southern Railway, though I have never checked this. It is connected with the railway works [End Page 65] by a pathway people called “the Khyber Pass,” which suggests a date around the time of the Boer War. The Ranch was a perfect place to grow up. The streets safe, free of all traffic. One boundary was the Liffey Hill. From there, downhill and across a wide field, and you were on the bank of the River Liffey. The other boundary a high blank wall—the wall of the old landlord Inchicore Estate, in walking distance from the Model School. AL: Poems such as “Hen Woman,” “Ancestor,” “The High Road,” “A Hand of Solo,” and “Tear” evoke the world of your childhood and the people and places of your early life. The aforementioned poems were first published in Notes from the Land of the Dead, and Other Poems (1973), after you had started reading Jung. Do you think that Jungian philosophy facilitated this imaginative exploration? TK: Awareness of Jung came after the event. I had been wondering at the insistence of certain subjects: detailed memories of random places and happenings, gestures and voices, distinct as though they were there. A phrase heard only once, a glimpse through a doorway, that would never go away, always part of my daily thoughts. With these insistent memories it was not enough to leave them as recorded memories. There was a need to put them in intense words—words that would try to remake the memory and my response so as to make it possible always to re-experience the exact memory and the response. Reading Jung’s psychology of the unconscious, I recognized and understood. Art as a means to resist, in Jung’s own words, “the relentless flight of time . . . the poison of the stealthily creeping serpent of time . . .” AL: On April 10, 2019, you attended the opening of a sculpture garden with President Michael D. Higgins and his wife Sabina Higgins at the Inchicore Model School which you attended as a child. Your poem “Model School, Inchicore,” from Songs of the Psyche (1985), celebrates the school. Can you describe the school’s significance for you? TK: The Model School was small and a place of discovery. I learned there, for the first time, that there was a world outside The Ranch with enormous activities and things to understand. Our classes were small. We had two teachers, friendly and willing to answer all questions. There was a growing awareness of the troubles in Europe; I remember being uneasy at talk of General Franco and the voice of Hitler on the radio, full of hate. Our time in The Ranch ended with the...
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