Open mic night marks Book Week in Killculen
Jo Doyle was on of the many fine contributors to an open mic night in Kilcullen
COMEDY, pathos and serious thoughts were all part of a highly successful open mic night held in Kilcullen's Woodbine Books to mark National Book Week.
In addition to presentations from the Kilcullen Writers Group, participants from beyond Kilcullen also treated the full house to an eclectic mix of prose, poetry, and music.
A piece by Jo Doyle on the farmer's wife was a heartfelt perspective on the hopefully fading picture of a cohort of women "acknowledged rarely in their own house, never in their villages and absolutely never by their government ... old vocation, part of the marriage vows, the unsaid joint account of work."
Another contribution, a poem on dysmorphic disorder, preoccupation with a perceived flaw in one's physical appearance, raised a level of applause that likely reflected recognitions of something which 'influencers' of our time have much to be accountable for.
Orla Ní Sheaghaidh was inspired after a summer of cat-sitting with her partner Kevin to give a cat's mind view of the human 'slaves' "at my beck and call at all times".
David Murray, a stalwart of the Kilcullen Writers Group, provided an extract from his current work in progress, a fantasy novel set in a land of small people.
Julie O'Donoghue, as she put it herself, had 'the absolute cheek' to change the end of .
"I never liked Mr Darcy, anyway," she said.
She read her own take on Lizzie's final pre-nuptial conversation with the man to whom she is presumed to marry, during which she dumps Darcy instead.
Celia Murphy transported the audience from the dissing of Darcy to the magic of the Italian coast, bringing Mediterranean warmth to Kilcullen's late autumn chill in snippets from her poem, .
And then all were brought abruptly back to Ireland as Pat Smullan read from his just-launched . His was a deeply moving account of family loss and its effect on those behind.
Mary Orford's contribution described the suffering of a volunteer nurse in war, who knew that she herself had contracted typhoid. Revealing only at the end that it was her own relation — "Eleanor Orford, from Foxhill, Athy, who died at the First Western Military Hospital, Fazakerley, Liverpool."
Daniel Nolan's story, Relative Motion, mused about the people beyond a travelling train. Alba Flores had a smile that lit up the room as she recounted adventures in the English language caused by her accent.
"Like the day when somebody was yelling at me over the phone, I said, please sir, don't shoot."
Geraldine Gahan's piece recalled her father taking his children in their blankets into the garden on a clear night, teaching them about stars and constellations. But because he had been deafened by a torpedo attack on his ship in the first World War, "he needed a torch so that he could lip-read our replies".
Then it was the turn of Joseph O'Loughlin to bring the assembly a fusillade of one-liners about Naas.
"After the road works, the new name for the sculpture is the spaghetti ball".
Then things went serious again with Anne Coakley's poem contrasting the peace of the birds in her garden with conditions in the Middle East from where they might have flown.
Maria McDonald read from her historical fiction book , a piece reflecting the attitude in a parish to a woman's response to domestic abuse.
"She held a carving knife in front of her, blade side down, with blood dripping from it onto my mother's polished linoleum floor. My mother screamed and dropped the cup she had been drying."
Music for the evening, which by agreement of all present was another triumph for the Woodbine Books venue, was provided by Oisin Finlay and David Scott.
