A very odd person indeed, was our man Yeats. Into all kinds of weird and wacky Victorian symbolism and spiritualism, whose wife he asked to marry him after being refused by the daughter of a former infatuation.
But for all that he seems to have gotten his poetry out all right.
I mention him because today I went to the National Library - they have, besides copies of all his and other Irish authors' works, an exhibition on the life and loves of Yeats for the free perusal of anyone who wanted to see it. And I did, and so I did.
Yesterday, besides the Guinness storehouse (a marvelous institution!) I went to wander around Trinity College, to see if I could see the book of Kells. I couldn't - they're fixing up it's box or something similar - but what I did see was the library. Oh, deary me! Its the most beautiful room I've been in so far - rows and rows and books and books and winding staircases and little enclaves.
Somehow I don't think they'd let me take it back though.
About Me
- Megan
- A place, shareable and accessible by more people than I might remember to tell individually, for stories told by me.
2 comments:
Look out for the man with the sash who does the 'Literary tour of Dublin'. It is cheap, leaves from the front gates of Trinity College and is a must!
Oh how lovely!
i :heart: W.B. Yeats! *sigh*
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