The Green Book 13
26 May 2019
EDITOR’S NOTE One perennial question about genre fiction centres around the notion of “tradition”: the influence authors and their works have on the next generation, and so on down the line. In posing this question, we ask whether or not an unbroken literary pedigree can be established. For example, an excessive amount of energy has been expended exploring links, both legitimate and spurious, between Le Fanu’s “Carmilla” (1871/2) and Stoker’s Dracula (1897) — and believe me, this seems to be an all-consuming pastime for some. But to me, Irish genre fiction has always seemed more a web of thematic shadows, …
Read moreStrange Stories by Irish Women
22 February 2019
Back in 2015, Jason Zerrillo and I designed the poster “Irish Writers of the Fantastic” as a response to the more ubiquitous “Irish Writers” poster that one often finds around Dublin. Instead of the typical faces — Joyce, Yeats, Beckett, Swift, etc. — we wanted to showcase the Irish writers we enjoyed reading — those with a more fantastical bent — Le Fanu, Dunsany, Hearn, etc. Our goal was to establish a sort of lesser known canon, but a no less important one. If you want to see “Irish Writers of the Fantastic”, and read about the thought that went …
Read moreBeatrice Grimshaw (1870-1953)
16 February 2019
“A mountain paradise, yet silent and lonesome, somewhat strange, for all its sweetness of flower and of friend, not friendly . . . ” – “The Blanket Fiend” (1929) Beatrice Grimshaw (1870-1953) was born in Dunmurry, Co. Antrim on 3 February 1870. Though raised in Northern Ireland, and educated in France, Grimshaw is primarily associated with Australia and the South Seas, which she wrote about in her fiction and travel journalism. She was a devoted (and record-breaking) cyclist, and during the 1890s wrote for the Dublin-based magazines Irish Cyclist and Social Review. In 1904 Grimshaw was commissioned by London’s Daily …
Read moreDora Sigerson Shorter (1866-1918)
15 February 2019
“Up and down the streets I wandered till dawn grew gray, but no dawn arose in my heart, only black night for ever.” – “Transmigration” (1900) Dora Sigerson Shorter (1866-1918) was born in Clare Street, Dublin. Both of her parents were writers—her father was the noted surgeon and poet George Sigerson (1836-1925). In 1895 she married the English literary critic Clement King Shorter and relocated to London. Early in her career she contributed to magazines such as Irish Monthly and Samhain, and became friendly with the political activist Alice Furlong and the author Katharine Tynan. Shorter’s volumes of poetry include …
Read moreEthna Carbery (1866-1902)
14 February 2019
“One bleak night in autumn a sound outside drew him to the door, and opening it, he stood listening.” – “The Wee Gray Woman” (1903) Ethna Carbery (1866-1902) was the pen name of journalist, writer, poet, and patriot Anna MacManus. She was born Anna Bella Johnston in Ballymena, Co. Antrim on 3 December 1866, and started publishing poems and short stories in Irish periodicals at the age of fifteen. She was one of the co-founders of the Daughters of Ireland, a radical nationalist women’s organisation led by Maud Gonne. With the poet and writer Alice Milligan, Carbery published two nationalist …
Read moreClotilde Graves (1863-1932)
13 February 2019
“Only the dead are faithful to Love—because they are dead,” she said. “The living live on—and forget!” – “A Vanished Hand” (1914)
Read moreKatharine Tynan (1859-1931)
12 February 2019
“Any whose business brought them to the attic looked in the corners warily, while they stayed, but the servants did not like to go there alone.” – “The First Wife” (1895)
Read moreLady Gregory (1852-1932)
11 February 2019
“He called to it and said, ‘Tell me what you are?’ ” – “The Unquiet Dead” (1920)
Read moreB. M. Croker (1849-1920)
9 February 2019
“Why was I conscious of a beating heart, accompanied by a scarcely defined, but undeniable dread?” – “The Red Woollen Necktie” (1896)
Read moreL. T. Meade (1844-1914)
8 February 2019
“She stands there at the foot of the bed; she wears a hood, and her face is yellow. She has been dead a long time.” – “The Woman with the Hood” (1897)
Read moreRosa Mulholland (1841-1921)
7 February 2019
“The lonely graveyard is far away, an’ the dead man is hard to raise—” – “Not to Be Taken at Bed-Time” (1865)
Read moreLady Wilde (1821-1896)
5 February 2019
“And no one knew how the flowers came into her dead hand.” – “The Child’s Dream” (1887)
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