We won't fall Apart 

by Iyanu Taiwo

Lough Gill, Sligo

Can we arise and go now, or did we come in at the end?

The sort of dreamscape W.B. Yeats attributes to Innisfree is remarkable. Growing up in Sligo for most of my life I've never really grasped how absorbing the natural landscapes are. But since moving to Dublin for college, I've begun to appreciate it a lot more—This resulted in tethering on the immense romanticization of it to college friends who are sick of me waffling on about the place. I assume it's just a natural part of growing up, where you realize you have a significant tremendous amount of love for your home, more than you could imagine. I still occasionally chat shit about the place, but this time it comes from a place of love (I swear). I'm just now beginning to appreciate what Yeats was trying to convey with his poem "The Lake Isle of Innisfree." 

He succinctly encapsulates a place seemingly outside space and time and longs to reside there. To play out the rural simplicity of Ireland he grew up witnessing. This is understandable, given he wrote it while living in London. Considering the poem has this nostalgic beat pulsating throughout, Yeats showcases his feelings on his spiritual connection with Sligo and Ireland. He yearns to escape from the chaos of London and return to the serenity of rural Sligo. Exhibiting this feeling at the beginning of the second stanza-

"And I shall have some peace there, for peace's comes dropping slow"

-he relates the peacefulness of Innisfree with the sublime beauty that nature offers. Nature within Ireland and the calmness that comes with it play as a motif throughout the whole poem. With his repetition of "I will arise and go now." Yeats seems dead on achieving that dream of a cabin built of "clay and wattles made." Will he get to live out that dream, or did he come in just at the end?

Collooney, Sligo

The nature evident in Ireland is a component that is viewed by hundreds worldwide. In Irish literature, there seems to be a great reverence for nature and the natural world. Which can sort of meld into a dreamlike state involving memories and a towering sense of yearning for a "quiet life." Within Irish poetry, specifically Seamus Heaney's work, nature seems to act as a sort of vessel for memories. 

In "Digging," arguably my favourite poem by him, Heaney transports us to his childhood by providing a beautiful vignette about his relationship with his father, a common theme in a lot of his poetry. We witness his admiration for his father's toil and reflect on the tradition that comes with it-

"By God, the old man could handle a spade.

Just like his old man."

Heaney also reminisces on the earth he inhabited "squelch and slap of soggy peat", as he reconciles with the fact he won't be following in the footsteps of his ancestors. But he will emulate their hard work through his work as a writer. 

"Between my finger and my thumb

The squat pen rests.

I'll dig with it."

The breakdown of tradition seems to be a common theme both poets share. Concerning Yeats, in maybe his most famous poem, "The Second Coming" (1919), he echoes this sentiment regarding the fall of tradition and culture as a whole. Written after WWI, Yeats seems to harbour a fear that we will not receive the second coming of Jesus. But a beast far more sinister will arrive in his place. He utters the famous line, "Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold." The line "Things Fall Apart" is also the title of an infamous Nigerian novel by Chinua Achebe. Who was a big fan of Yeats's work? Which I thought was a cool, somewhat cultural combination of both of my homes. 

But back to my main point. I believe most young people in Ireland feel like we arrived at a shitty time. Every generation feels that way; it's a given to think your situation is more unique than the previous generations. This is already evident in Heaney and Yeats's constant romanticization and appreciation of rural Ireland. And even with that said, I still can't help but think we've been shafted. 

Merrion Square Park, Dublin

Last semester, I had a conversation with an older gentleman on the train from Sligo heading towards Dublin. I mentioned I was in college, and naturally, the conversation steered towards accommodation prices. When I mentioned how much I paid in rent, he laughed in my face then quickly apologized. He proceeded to say he was delighted he never had to experience any of that growing up - "Affording a mortgage was grand." I kind of had to hide the annoyed look that was forming on my face. I know that's not possible for most people in my generation. Affordable housing seems like some nostalgic remnant of the past. 

This experience brought me back to a scene from the pilot of "The Sopranos," where Tony echoes the same feeling many young people have.     

"But lately, I'm getting the feeling that I came in at the end. The best is over."

I know it's looking extremely bleak now. More and more people are emigrating to Australia and other countries. But we're a part of nature and grew up in it, whether we like it or not. Yes, it probably feels like we came in at the end. But the Second Coming could arrive and not be a beast bringing the end of humanity. But something we can latch hope onto.