Longford-a bigraphical portrait by Mary Craig published by Hodder and Stoughton £5.95p.
THOUGH this biography is short - only 200 pages - it must have been difficult to write. Frank Longford has appeared in so many roles that it is exceddingly difficult to present a coherent picture.
WRITERS should go to Reuters, where the 'changes hum on wires, and where the food is delivered to the table, clickety-clack, with all the inspiration and efficiency of a typewriter or teleprinter. Journalists do, in fact, go to Reuters, since it is literally around the corner from the offices of the Irish Times, around only two corners from the Irish Press, and just across the river from the Irish Independent. And, cleverly, the owner has paid some tribute to at least two of these newspapers by reprooducing historic issues as outside decoration to the menus.
Russborough House was really rather fortunate to survive at all. It was built by Joseph Leeson in the mid-eighteenth century, and was principally the work of Richard Castle, the German architect who came to Ireland in the late 1720s, and was responsible for Leinster House, Powersscourt House, Hazlewood in Sligo, and Summerhill in County Meath, as well as Carton, where he died in 1751. He was then in the middle of work on Russsborough, and his colleague and assistant, Francis Bindon, then finished the work.
"You must go on, I can't go on, I'll go on". Denis Donoghue reviews Deirdre Bairs - Life of Samuel Beckett
YOU'D better shape up because need a man," purrs Olivia Newton John. "My heart is set on you. You're the that I want. Feel me."
Three poems in Magill, September 1978
BEYOND ORANGE AND GREEN: THE NORTHERN CRISIS IN A NEW PERSPECTIVE, by Belinda Probert, The Academy Press, Dublin, £6.35.
***
COLOUR WISE getting beyond Orange and Green produces a rather jaundiced shade of Brown. Dr. Probert's achievement is similar. Review by Mavis Arnold
WHEN YOU'VE SEEN one Greek resstaurant you've seen them all. Is that your idea? Suppose you've just come back from a never-to-be-forgotten holiiday on a deserted Greek Island - with a traditional taverna frequented only by local musicians, donkeys and you, and deserted by everyone except you, and a cast of thousands. You want to relive the memory of the 'valley of the nighttingales', the "cicada twilight", or whattever twaddle the tourist operators have filled your mind with - and you want to recreate the slim sun-bleached you that you think your package deal included.
Three poems by Paul Durcan
This month's Music and Film.