This week, I am sharing the Irish poem Casualty By Seamus Heaney. It’s a piece that reflects a critical period in Irish history and showcases Heaney’s incredible skill in capturing the human element within larger political and social upheavals.

This poem delves into the tragic consequences of the Northern Ireland conflict, particularly focusing on the personal story of a fisherman, a victim of the violence. Heaney masterfully intertwines themes of personal loss, political conflict, and the complexities of identity and belonging in the context of The Troubles.

Here's the image I created, inspired by Seamus Heaney's "Casualty." It depicts a serene and somber Irish coastal landscape at dusk, capturing the reflective and tranquil atmosphere that aligns with the themes of the poem.

Under the hush of a twilight sky, a lone fisherman stands by the whispering sea – a silent tribute to the poignant echoes of Seamus Heaney’s ‘Casualty.’ A moment of reflection where the sea meets the soul.

Personal Connection: The poem is believed to be about a real person, a friend of Heaney’s who was killed during The Troubles. This personal angle adds depth and poignancy to the narrative.
The Troubles: The backdrop of the poem is The Troubles in Northern Ireland, a period of sectarian violence and political conflict that lasted from the late 1960s to 1998.
Themes of Conflict and Division: Heaney explores themes of conflict, both personal and political, and the divisions within society. The poem reflects on the cost of these divisions, particularly on ordinary lives.
Symbolism and Imagery: Heaney uses rich symbolism and imagery, particularly related to fishing and the sea, to convey deeper meanings about freedom, choice, and the nature of the conflict.
Structure and Style: The poem’s structure and Heaney’s signature style – his use of language, rhythm, and local dialect – contribute significantly to its power and emotional impact.

Now let’s get to this powerful poem; for more top Heaney poems, go here.

It is a considerably long poem, but I do believe that the poem’s length allows Heaney to delve deeply into the complexities of the individual’s experience amidst the broader backdrop of The Troubles in Northern Ireland. Enjoy this piece of Irish history.

Casualty

BY SEAMUS HEANEY

He would drink by himself

And raise a weathered thumb

Towards the high shelf,

Calling another rum

And blackcurrant, without

Having to raise his voice,

Or order a quick stout

By a lifting of the eyes

And a discreet dumb-show

Of pulling off the top;

At closing time would go

In waders and peaked cap

Into the showery dark,

A dole-kept breadwinner

But a natural for work.

I loved his whole manner,

Sure-footed but too sly,

His deadpan sidling tact,

His fisherman’s quick eye

And turned observant back.

Incomprehensible

To him, my other life.

Sometimes, on the high stool,

Too busy with his knife

At a tobacco plug

And not meeting my eye,

In the pause after a slug

He mentioned poetry.

We would be on our own

And, always politic

And shy of condescension,

I would manage by some trick

To switch the talk to eels

Or lore of the horse and cart

Or the Provisionals.

But my tentative art

His turned back watches too:

He was blown to bits

Out drinking in a curfew

Others obeyed, three nights

After they shot dead

The thirteen men in Derry.

PARAS THIRTEEN, the walls said,

BOGSIDE NIL. That Wednesday

Everyone held

His breath and trembled.

It was a day of cold

Raw silence, wind-blown

surplice and soutane:

Rained-on, flower-laden

Coffin after coffin

Seemed to float from the door

Of the packed cathedral

Like blossoms on slow water.

The common funeral

Unrolled its swaddling band,

Lapping, tightening

Till we were braced and bound

Like brothers in a ring.

But he would not be held

At home by his own crowd

Whatever threats were phoned,

Whatever black flags waved.

I see him as he turned

In that bombed offending place,

Remorse fused with terror

In his still knowable face,

His cornered outfaced stare

Blinding in the flash.

He had gone miles away

For he drank like a fish

Nightly, naturally

Swimming towards the lure

Of warm lit-up places,

The blurred mesh and murmur

Drifting among glasses

In the gregarious smoke.

How culpable was he

That last night when he broke

Our tribe’s complicity?

‘Now, you’re supposed to be

An educated man,’

I hear him say. ‘Puzzle me

The right answer to that one.’

III

I missed his funeral,

Those quiet walkers

And sideways talkers

Shoaling out of his lane

To the respectable

Purring of the hearse…

They move in equal pace

With the habitual

Slow consolation

Of a dawdling engine,

The line lifted, hand

Over fist, cold sunshine

On the water, the land

Banked under fog: that morning

I was taken in his boat,

The Screw purling, turning

Indolent fathoms white,

I tasted freedom with him.

To get out early, haul

Steadily off the bottom,

Dispraise the catch, and smile

As you find a rhythm

Working you, slow mile by mile,

Into your proper haunt

Somewhere, well out, beyond…

Dawn-sniffing revenant,

Plodder through midnight rain,

Question me again.

In conclusion, Seamus Heaney’s ‘Casualty’ is a profound reflection on the personal impacts of The Troubles in Ireland. Through his poignant imagery and masterful storytelling, Heaney commemorates a friend’s life and delves into the broader themes of conflict, freedom, and the cost of political turmoil. This poem stands as a testament to the enduring power of personal narratives in understanding our collective history. What did you think about the poem Casualty By Seamus Heaney?

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