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Life [ top ] Works [ top ] Poetry, Shooting a Bat and other Poems (1964); Five arches: A Sketch for an Autobiography; and, Philoctetes and Other Poems (1980), ill. by Alan Freer. [ top ] Miscellaneous, Practical Fly-tying (1950) [3 photos & 137 drawings]; The Apple and the Spectroscope: being lectures on poetry designed, in the main, for science students, foreword by Sir Lawrence Bragg (1951); Science in Writing: A Selection of Passages from the Writing of Scientific Authors, with Notes and a Section on the Writing of Scientific P rose (1960); Address ... on the occasion of the gift of Duras House, Kinvara to ... Irish Youth Hostel Association, &c. (1961); ed., & sel., Passages for Divine Reading (1963); Foreword to Mary Hanley, Thoor Ballylee-Home of William Butler Yeats, ed. Liam Miller [paper to the Kiltartan Society, 1961] (1965; 1977; 1984).
[ top ] Scholarly editions, Ed. & Intro., J. M. Synge, The Playboy of the Western World (1960; 1961; 1982); The Plays and Poems of J. M. Synge (1963;); Gen. ed., The Coole Edition of Lady Gregorys Works (Colin Smythe 1970); ed. & annot., The Complete Plays of J. M. Synge (1981).
[ top ] Bibliographical details [ top ] Commentary [ top ] Declan Kiberd speaks of T. R. Henn as one of those who see Synge as one of Anglo-Irelands crowning glories and who like to portray [him] as a martyr to the Irish mob, perhaps because this assuaged his own guilt about ascendancy mistreatment of the natives (Inventing Ireland, 1995, p.175). [ top ] Quotations [ top ] The Lonely Tower: Studies in the Poetry of W. B. Yeats (London: Methuen 1950, 1965 [2nd Edn.]): The society and life of the early part of the century was in many ways peculiar. It was a very different world from that of Synge or of OCasey. Everywhere the Big House, with its estates surrounding it, was a centre of hospitality, of country life and society, apt to breed a passionate attachment, so that the attempt to save it from burning or bankruptcy became an obsession (in the nineteen-twenties and onwards) when that civilisation was passing. […] The great age of that society had, I suppose, been the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries; form the eighteen-fifties onwards, it seems to have turned its eyes too much towards England, too conscious of its lost influence in its hereditary role of The Ascendancy. By 1912 it was growing a little tired, a little purposeless, but the world still seemed secure. [Quotes Yeats: “We had too many pretty toys when young ... &c.] In the furnishing of a great house, or in its library, one became aware that most of the work had been done between, say, 1750 and 1850, over the bones of a rebellion and two famines. The original building might date from Cromwells time, or before; modernised, perhaps, by adding a frontage from a Loire chateau, or a portico form Italy. some of these were of great beauty [quotes Yeats: “many ingenious lovely things are gone ... &c.] But the whole Anglo-Irish myth, the search for beauty and stability in the midst of poverty and defeat, the dreams that oscillated between fantasy and realism, has yet to be described. [ top ] The Lonely Tower (rev. edn. 1965): ‘To this society, in the main Protestant, Unionist, and of the Ascendancy in character, the peasantry was linked. The great demesnes had their tenantry, proud, idle, careless, kindly, with a richness of speech and folk-lore that Lady Gregory had been the first to record [Ftn.: Visions and Beliefs.] The days of Castle Rackrent and the absentee landlord were, in the main, over; the relationship between landlord and tenant varied, but was on the whole a kindly one, and carried a good deal of respect on either side. The bitterness of the Famine, the evictions and burnings described by Maud Gonne in A Servant of the Queen, belonged to an earlier period. The members of the family would be known either by the titles of their professions: the Counsellor, the Bishop, the Commander, and so on: or by the Christian names of their boyhood. They mixed with the peasantry more freely and with a greater intimacy (especially in childhood) than would have been possible in England. […] Sport of every kind was a constant bond; the ability to shoot, or fish, or ride a horse was of central importance. At its best there was something not unlike a survival of the Renaissance qualities. […; 6] / There were other aspects of that life. Land or local troubles flared out from time to time. There were times, even in my own boyhood, when one did sit in the evening between a lamp and the open; though Lady Gregory, in reply to threats on her life during the Civil War, replied proudly that she was to be found each evening, between six and seven, writing before an unshuttered window. Violence had its curious paradoxes: there is a perfect description this in Lord Dunsanys The Curse of the Wise Woman [see further under Dunsany, infra.] [...] In this society there was (outside the big cities) no middle class, and this was in itself a fundamental weakness […] (pp.6-7.) [ top ] The Lonely Tower (rev. edn. 1965), The truth about the great houses of the South and West lies, perhaps, somewhere between Yeats pictures of Coole Park, the romantic descriptions of some recent novelists, and MacNeices “snob idyllicism”. For every family that produced “travelled men and children” there was another that produced little but “hard-riding country gentlemen”, who had scarcely opened a book. An eighteenth-century house might be half-filled with Sheraton and Adam work, and half with Victorian rubbish. Families nursed the thought of past greatness, fed their vanity with old achievement or lineage or imagined descent from the ancient kings; and in the warm damp air, with its perpetual sense of melancholy, of unhappy things either far off or present, many of them decayed. Standish OGrady could write bitterly of The Great Enchantment, that web of apathy in a country with an alien government and an alien religion, subject at every turn to patronage and the servility it brings, into which Ireland had fallen. That, too, is a narrow view of the whole. The aristocracy had, at its best, possessed many of the qualities that Yeats ascribed to it: the world of Somerville and Ross, the Dublin of Joyce or of Sean OCasey differ merely in accordance with the position of the onlooker. (p.9.) (For further quotations, see Ricorso Library, Criticism / Major Authors [infra]; also remarks under George Berkeley [supra], Lord Dunsany [supra] and W. B. Yeats [infra].) [ top ] References Dictionary of National Biography notes that a Thomas Rice Henn (1849-1880), lieut. Royal Engineers, fell at Maiwand. [ top ] Notes [ top ] Sniping: Derek Mahon reminisces that the late T. R. Henn estimated the weight of the human soul as that of a mature snipe. (Journalism, Oldcastle: Gallery 1996, p.100). Cf. the sentence in Yeatss Celtic Twilight (1893, 1902): A wicked sea-captain stayed for years inside the plaster of a cottage wall, in the shape of a snipe, making the most horrible noises. He was only dislodged when the wall was broken down; then out of the solid plaster the snipe rushed away whistling. (The Celtic Twilight, London: Bullen 1902 [Edn.], p.34.) [ top ] Namesake: note that Captain Henn in Midsummer Nights Madness, a story by Seán Ó Faoláin, is an Anglo-Irish roué whose house is occupied by the IRA commandant Stevey Long, and who has formed a relationship a half-tinker servant Gypsy causing her to become pregnant (and resulting in his marriage to her). David Norris comments: [...] finally, and indeed remarkably, [the narrator] is united in feeling not with his [IRA] military ally Stevey, but with his traditional enemy, old Henn. And the reaon? Quite simply, these two charates alone share in the story something deeper, more permanent, than divisions of class, ideology or age - the ability to respond joyously, imaginatively to the experiences of life. (See David Norris, Imaginative Response versus Authority Structures [... &c.], in The Irish Short Story, ed Patrick Rafroidi & Terence Brown, Gerrards Cross: Colin Smythe 1979, p.56-57.) [ top ] | ||||||