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Imprint: Anvil Press Poetry
Publisher: Carcanet Press
Paperback (72 pages)
(Pub. Sep 2012)
Agnes told Bertha they had to be nice to Clodagh, it was the only way Justin would see the enormity of what he was doing but Bertha didn’t agree and what if Clodagh started liking Agnes better than me? I tried reading Clodagh’s copy of Light in August but I didn’t know what the hell was going on and Bertha said when did this shit start? Explain the story to me, go on! Go on, three simple sentences that’s all I’m asking, you see, you can’t and I wrung my hands in anguish. Bertha had twenty-five Barbara Cartlands under her bed. I lay down for the relief of reading them and thinking of Danny Boy even though I wasn’t supposed to and Clodagh said Faulkner wasn’t easy and she made a big saucepan of toffee and Justin chain-smoked three Hamlets and clicked his fingers and he didn’t mention the bailiffs but he said I’d want to go easy on the butter. Clodagh said I was growing girl and Justin said that there was away too much growing going on. Clodagh stood looking at him the strings of toffee hardening on the end of her spoon.That night, Bertha and Agnes said they thought he was beginning to crack.
Imelda thinks she’s killed her mother by wishing she was dead. Haunted, she doesn’t want to wish the same fate on Justin, her mercurial and controlling twice-widowed father, owner of McConnell’s bar and shop. When Imelda’s two older sisters, Bertha and Agnes disapprove of Justin’s young fiancé, Clodagh, Justin butters up naïve Imelda and elevates her to the position of temporary favourite. Nobody including Imelda herself can believe her luck will last when it is clear that Agnes is his true favourite. Besides, Justin can’t stand Imelda’s admirer, Danny Boy, her sisters are jealous and Neily Sheehan, the owner of the rival John Fitzgerald Kennedy Bar, is only waiting for his chance to bring Justin down.
Petrol is a prose poem disguised as a novella of adolescence in Co. Cork, Ireland. With its dizzy pace and perfect narrative timing it is a unique work and a remarkable departure for a writer whose poetry is widely appreciated for its humour and uncompromising depiction of rural Ireland.
Awards won by Martina Evans Short-listed, 2019 Irish Times Poetry Now Award (Now We Can Talk Openly About Men) Short-listed, 2019 The Pigott Poetry Award (Now We Can Talk Openly About Men) Short-listed, 2019 The Roehampton Poetry Prize (Now We Can Talk Openly About Men) Short-listed, 2015 Irish Times Poetry Now Award (Burnfort, Las Vegas) Winner, 2011 Premio Ciampi Internazionale di Poesia (Ciampi International Poetry Prize) (Facing the Public)
Praise for Martina Evans 'Striking powers of social observation... every single adjective attentively exact... Without straining for effect, she mixes pity with horror - and a repeated theme of fallibility'
Fiona Sampson, The Guardian
'Her work is humane and funny, often beautiful, always without sentiment or bitterness... It is loose, chatty and free, awash with hospitals, cats and shoes. For Evans the joy of the given moment, the past's ever-present grief, the dreams of films and books, are frequencies overlapping at once... Evans is that rarest of rara avis, a poet whose work is at once serious and authentically enjoyable... American Mules is a book of splendours and will surely count among her very best.'
Conor O'Callaghan, The Irish Times
'Terrifying tales of peace'
Kate Clanchy, The Guardian
'Evans's decision to occupy and represent these women in the midst of a period in Irish history which is at once surrounded by silence and overexposed in the long shadow it has cast, leaves us with a work which is compelling, subtle, compassionate and evocative.'
Rosie Lavan, Poetry Ireland Review
'A sharply idiomatic reflection of the Irish revolution and Civil War... it is unputdownable'.
Roy Foster, TLS Books of the Year 2018
Susan Jane Sims, Artemis Poetry
'...a rich poetic contribution to our forthcoming interrogation of the War of independence, two intense and riveting dramatic monologues by women affected by the burning of Mallow in 1920, and the malaise of the new state in 1924.'
Catriona Crowe, The Irish Times Best Books of 2018
'Evans manages in this collection, like a great filmmaker or novelist, to gift the audience (and I use the word "audience" deliberately) with immersion into a world so real and complete we have to reluctantly drag ourselves back to our fictional lives.'
Anne Tannam, The Dublin Review of Books
'Full of insight and humour...Evan's ability to choose just the right word is unerring.'
Suzanne O'Sullivan, The Observer
'I loved everything about this book'
Kate Kellaway, The Observer
'Evans's ear for speech suits the monologue, and the monologues - talky, jumpy, Gothic - are intensely atmospheric, claustrophobic pieces... Here, and throughout, Evans catches the nightmarish powerlessness of living close to historical changes.'
John McAuliffe, The Irish Times
'Her ability to replicate on the page colloquial Irish rhythms and phrasing has been commented on before, and it draws the reader in from the beginning... Each poem is, in a sense, akin to a chapter of a novel, and there is narrative drive both within the poems and between them, but as they are poems, i.e. stand-alone entities and in this sense equally analogous to paintings, they serve as much as windows onto moments, thoughts, memories and feelings as narrative blocks.'
Chris Edgoose, Wood Bee Poet
'Evans' verse is tightly packed with images, but loose enough in its metre to read naturally. One can take the book at a running pace and enjoy a story with deep emotional beats, or slow the pace and reflect on the careful choice of wording.'
Joe Darlington, Manchester Review of Books
The admired vernacular brilliance of Martina Evans's poetry is applied here to her most ambitious work to date, bringing to vivid life one of the most terrible periods of Irish history from the Troubles around 1920 to the Civil War, as witnessed and experienced by two generations of women ... No other poet currently writing in Britain and Ireland can rival Evans's ability to represent the impact of the political on the personal without easy histrionics. This is a remarkable document, a major work.
Bernard O'Donoghue 'a subtle, challenging writer with a wonderfully destructive approach to the pieties she describes.'
John McAuliffe, Irish Times 'Evan's great skill is in knowing how much to put into a poem. She has a talent for selecting only the most resonant memories, for not over-icing the cake of sentiment. [...] Above all, Evans puts the right words in the right order, a dictum whose simple phrasing embodies its demands.'
Michael Duggan, PN Review 'These look like easy, anecdotal poems but they bite.'
Alan Brownjohn, Sunday Times 'A deceptively casual and enjoyable collection.'
Irish Times 'Martina Evans [is] brazenly humorous [...] with her dizzyingly wacky free-verse tale-telling.'
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