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SOURCE: "One Ireland," in The New Statesman & Nation, Vol. XIII, No. 331, June 26, 1937, pp. 1050, 1052.
Bowen was an Anglo-Irish fiction writer and critic. In the following essay, she reviews My Ireland.
Lord Dunsany, perhaps a little disorientated by the largeness of his publisher's invitation, halts and hovers rather over his opening chapters, then drops into his swing and writes an engaging book. High-handed, whimsical, bland, touchy, reactionary, and impossible to pin down to any point, here he has it all his own way—and what a way it is. My Ireland has, throughout, a sort of contrary soundness. It is written to please himself and, please God, infuriate others. The merit of the completely personal book is that it often captures, or rather blunders upon, that general quality that makes literature. This title (not his own choice) with its possessive smugness is certainly putting-off; one is led to expect some...
This section contains 987 words (approx. 4 pages at 300 words per page) |
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