A couple of weeks ago I had the pleasure of attending the launch of a new journal of poetry, prose and visual art – The Storms Volume 2. It was hosted in Swords Castle, which might just be one of the most beautiful and underappreciated spots in Dublin. Writers from around the country, as well as from the UK, read out their poetry and prose. The whole atmosphere was really friendly and welcoming. You could tell that everyone was really pleased to be there and that they all felt very honoured. I was really grateful to be given a copy to review and it was a pleasure to be among contemporary Irish writers.
The writers ranged from college students having their first poem published to accomplished and awarded writers with decades of experience. Though there was no theme set, the themes of movement and journeys became clear as the editors were looking at the submissions and producing it. The journal is so arranged to reflect that. It takes you on a journey as you read. Other recurring images and ideas jump out at you while you read – with nature being the most prominent.
Poets have always written about nature. It’s probably the most common theme for poems throughout literary history. In my view though, it’s taken on new meanings post-pandemic. Writing is fundamentally about communication, and how it connects with readers is just as important as originality. All of us have lived through COVID, and it has inspired some reflection in most of us about the world that surrounds us. Combined with the looming climate crisis, it’s easy to see why nature is such a prominent theme in the minds of the writers featured in this journal and should make it more impactful for readers as well.
We all saw those photos of animals seeming happier and returning to their habitats when humans weren’t around. “Equinox”, a poem towards the end of the journal, meditates on the interconnectedness of nature and how we live and die along so many species. The nature poems within range from celebrations of natural beauty and laments about the destruction of it.
Some of the poetry in here is genuinely beautiful, with standouts like “The Squirrel and Fainting“ “Opacity” and “Excavation”. “Everyday workers” expresses the feelings of being paralysed in the modern world when you are painfully aware of all the awful things happening globally, but have to resign yourself to thinking about more mundane worries like grocery shopping.
There are many poems about transport and journeys which reflect how glad we all are to be able to move around again after the stasis of the pandemic. One poem “Train Song” is simply about the “joy of travelling from one place to another”, while “I am afraid of driving a car” comes directly after it and speaks to fears of transport. “Driving Lessons” is a piece that makes this experience of being allowed to drive a car ominous because an unsettling priest offers the lessons.
There are also powerful poems like “Making The Bed”, “Painting In Your Attic Lot” and “Rekindling” which talk about the smaller things in life and domestic bliss. This is also a feeling that is very resonant post-pandemic where most of us were forced to appreciate the smaller things in life we had access to like baking banana bread or painting, rather than getting to go on nights out or holidays abroad. Poems which showcase how love can be shown in small gestures like putting the fire on in “Rekindling” or how seeing something innocuous like marmalade might remind you of a deceased grandmother in “Marmalade on Aisle 13” or wanting to tell your deceased friend about your scratch card winnings in “I Wish” also recall this idea of finding huge meaning in relatively small, everyday things.
It’s not all poetry though. The prose and visual art featured is definitely worth mentioning as they were also very impactful. “Driving Lessons” and “A sister recalls a shell which holds an echo of what it was like to laugh” stood out to me the most. “A sister recalls a shell which holds an echo of what it was like to laugh” was followed by a stunning piece of art called “Even the ocean has ears” which was so expertly chosen that it felt like the art had been created specifically to follow that story. Another piece of visual art, “Dusk over the headland” was so beautiful I wanted to make it my phone lockscreen.
The poetry and prose within ranges across different emotions conveyed and across different styles. Whatever type of writing you are looking for, you’re likely to find at least some of it in here and to find one piece that speaks to you. For me, it is the piece of literature that I’ve found to most perfectly capture the feelings of COVID and the world after it this year.
When I began reading, I decided to have a sticky note on the first page where I would write the titles of pieces which stood out to me. This was both for the purpose of mentioning them in this review and for my own convenience so I could reread them later. By the end of the journal I had over 3 sticky notes filled with titles, and I haven’t even gotten to mention every wonderful piece I read in this review.
I would highly recommend this journal to anyone, especially those wishing to read Irish voices or, like me, have been frustrated that they cannot find much art representing the shared feelings we all experienced during the pandemic. You can buy copies at independent bookstores around Ireland such as Books Upstairs on D’Olier Street and The Winding Stair at Ormond Quay. For more information on eat the storms, see their website at eatthestorms.com.
