The Restless Souls novelist on reading his reviews, working as a medical equipment tester, and writing responsibly about war and trauma.
”I am not a human being up there, true, and I am not a woman. I’m consciousness.”
“In representing someone else, all of my films are actually representations of myself.”
“As to the church organ itself, it seemed almost like a sample machine, like it could tap into sounds from different eras.”
“There’s the scientific and mathematical—how stuff is—and there’s the prosaic, the poetic—how people are.”
Finding the hope in the one-woman plays of Samuel Beckett.
“All art aspires toward music, so I try, as far as I can, to make a symphony out of the language.”
San Francisco’s Litquake might be over, but the aftershocks keep rumbling. Novelist and playwright Lucy Caldwell—the author of Where They Were Missed and The Meeting Point—participated in Litquake’s Young Ireland. She is a native of Belfast.
Brooklyn is Colm Tóibín’s seventh novel and it is as close to perfect as a novel can get.
Fairy tales do come true if playwright Martin McDonagh’s meteoric rise in London, with four productions staged in the same season, is any indication. His plays are Irish tales told with all the violence, humor and magic of a banshee.