Fiction

By Conor O'Callaghan

Fiction uses the metanarrative of writing for its overarching theme, as it tests a web of reality and imagination, truth and deceit. From the title poem s first line, None of this is true, to the poem This, late in the volume, we are aware that writing begins with a pencil, with the physical act of writing, while searching for an original voice, and ends haunted by the mimicry involved in perfecting the craft (in darkness . . . littered with mockingbirds ). O Callaghan highlights the self-referential process of creativity with great skill, and assures us of his maturation as a poet, one who is not only among the best of his generation, but increasingly among the best living. It is not surprising, then, that the art of poetry is central to Fiction. Art is not his only domain, however; there are also love poems, travelogues, poems to his children, on his time in the United States, on the growth of the self, philosophical meditations, political and historical essays where truth and fiction contest. This volume is fraught with the frisson of its own creation, as one would expect from a poet coming fully into his extraordinary powers, and keenly aware of the role voice and writing play in human consciousness."

• Format: Paperback
• Language: English
• ISBN: 1930630239
• ISBN13: 9781930630239
• Release Date: November 2005
• Publisher: Wake Forest University Press
• Length: 75 Pages
• Weight: 0.29 lbs.
• Dimensions: 0.3" x 6.0" x 8.5"

Customer Reviews

An outstanding collection of Conor O'Callaghan's most vivid and conceptual poetry

Very highly recommended to all poetry lovers, Fiction is an outstanding collection of Conor O'Callaghan's most vivid and conceptual poetry. As a long-time poet, and perpetual student of the universe around him, O'Callaghan's poetry buries itself deep into the skin of the reader, creating an upheaval of enlightening, life enriching and thought- provoking realizations only found in such judicious body of work. Fiction: None of this is true./We're still all/we crack ourselves/out to be.//I haven't laid/our he rafters/in a plot/with my loose ends.//You're not miles away./The slow numbers/were never/swayed alone to.//I don't blame you,/smiling in the mirror/at a face/you've just made up.