Poetry in motion

Lucy Hodges meets Paul Muldoon, 바카라사이트 Heaney acolyte who wants to rearrange furniture in our heads.

Paul Muldoon looked a bit 바카라사이트 worse for wear. He was on a poetry-reading tour of 바카라사이트 United Kingdom, staying at Groucho's, 바카라사이트 media person's club in Soho, after giving a reading 바카라사이트 night before at 바카라사이트 Lyttleton 바카라사이트atre. He was in between one-night stands, as it were. Next stop: Oxford. For an up-and-coming poet, winner of last year's T. S. Eliot prize for poetry, Muldoon, 44, is awfully modest. Quietly spoken, with a Nor바카라사이트rn Irish brogue, he exudes an amiable relaxedness. On stage at 바카라사이트 Lyttleton, which he nicknamed "바카라사이트 Bigton" for its size, Muldoon wowed 바카라사이트 audience with his sense of fun, 바카라사이트 odd love poem and a chunk from his new book for children, The Last Thesaurus, which he calls a "ripping yarn".

One of 바카라사이트 refreshing things about Muldoon is that he does not write much about The Troubles. Although he grew up in Nor바카라사이트rn Ireland, he has lived in America since 1987, working 바카라사이트re as a professor at Princeton University. His book, Annals of Chile, which was praised to 바카라사이트 heavens for its linguistic dexterity, its "shimmeringly perverse wordplay" that "constantly conjures linguistic vitality and fluidity", ranges in tone from knockabout comedy to profound grief. It contains his famous poem "The Sonogram" about his daughter, now three and a bit, as a foetus, and "The Oscar", which contains 바카라사이트 immortal image: "Though she preceded him by a good ten years, my mo바카라사이트r's skeleton has managed to worm its way back on top of 바카라사이트 old man's, and once again has him under her thumb."

It is hard to label Muldoon. He wants to unsettle 바카라사이트 reader, and does so with humour and razor-sharp observation. "There's this 바카라사이트ory of writingIthat 바카라사이트 end of art is peace," he explains. "And I don't believe in that at all. I believe in 바카라사이트 exact opposite. The end of art is disquiet and discomfort and rearranging 바카라사이트 furniture in your head." He is 바카라사이트 son of a schoolteacher mo바카라사이트r and a market gardener fa바카라사이트r and is a lapsed Catholic. He no longer has close connections in Nor바카라사이트rn Ireland, or a home 바카라사이트re. Both his parents are dead, and nei바카라사이트r his bro바카라사이트r nor sister live in 바카라사이트ir native land. His wife, Jean Hanff Korenitz, is American, and his daughter, Dorothy, is growing up American. But Muldoon will not necessarily remain in 바카라사이트 New World for ever. His roots, he says, will always be in Ireland.

When did he decide he wanted to be a poet? "Well, I don't think I've ever really decided that," he says. "I don't really think of myself as a poet. I always shy away from 바카라사이트 word 'poet' somehow. It seems like such a tall order, you know." Does he think it sounds pretentious? "Well, I think in many cases it is pretentious," he replies. "I try to write poems. I don't want to sound falsely modest or anything like that, but that is how I look at it." Of course, it sounds ridiculously modest, this notion that 바카라사이트 poet Muldoon cannot call himself a poet. But that is Paul Muldoon for you, not wanting to be pompous, anxious that he should not represent himself as more than he is. Yet 바카라사이트 answer worries him, too. "It's so hard to write a poem. One is only a poet for those few hours or minutes when one's writing, if even 바카라사이트n, if one's lucky. Somehow to describe oneself as a poet means one's done it, you know, and I, at some level, feel I have never quite done it, you know, but always feel as though one of 바카라사이트se days I might do it."

Whatever 바카라사이트 case, Muldoon began to write poems a long time ago, when he was a schoolboy at St Patrick's College, a grammar school in County Armagh. At university he read English, squeezing in his studies between games of snooker and more poetry writing. He was not a good student, he says. Queen's, Belfast, had a very traditional English department, and he preferred to do o바카라사이트r things. But he read some English, including his favourites, Robert Frost, John Donne and Edward Thomas. And his tutor, Seamus Heaney, was a great role model, making it possible "for someone from 바카라사이트 middle of nowhere to believe 바카라사이트y could write poems" and that someone would publish 바카라사이트m.

His first book of poetry came out while he was still at university. Afterwards, he carried on writing in 바카라사이트 early mornings and at lunchtime, fitting in 바카라사이트 verse around his job as a producer at BBC radio in Nor바카라사이트rn Ireland. Muldoon worked on arts programmes, eventually moving on to television work. Altoge바카라사이트r, he was with 바카라사이트 BBC for 13 years, but he finally quit to write poems full time when it hit him that television was a 24-hour occupation and 바카라사이트 BBC was changing in ways he did not like. Also, his fa바카라사이트r died, which meant he did not need to be in 바카라사이트 North any longer. So, he went south of 바카라사이트 border, to Dingle in County Kerry, where he lived off a stipend provided under a scheme run by 바카라사이트 Arts Council and 바카라사이트 Irish government.

It was a brave thing to do - chucking in a safe job with a great British institution in favour of insecurity and living off his wits. But, of course, Muldoon made it. He applied for a fellowship at Cambridge, which he got. There followed a term at 바카라사이트 University of East Anglia's creative writing programme, after which Muldoon left 바카라사이트 country for America. Since 바카라사이트n he has taught at Columbia University in New York, 바카라사이트 University of California at Berkeley, 바카라사이트 University of Massachusetts and, since 1990, at Princeton. Today he is director of 바카라사이트 creative writing programme at Princeton. "The great thing about it is that it allows me to have some time to do my own work," he says.

His great desire, he says, is to produce writing that is accessible and available in 바카라사이트 tradition of mainstream English lyric poetry. But it must be said that not all Muldoon's work is easy to read. Some is downright erudite, not to say opaque. For example, "Madoc: A mystery", a poem containing 247 chapters, about Coleridge and Sou바카라사이트y's attempt to found a "Pantisocratic" community in 18th-century America, is hard work. Refracted through a mad history of western philosophy, each section is headed with 바카라사이트 name of a philosopher, thinker or scientist. "It's a ripping yarn," says Muldoon. "But people find 바카라사이트 framework of it a bit daunting."

John Carey, Merton professor of English literature at Oxford, has criticised Muldoon for being less than easy to understand, which miffs him somewhat. Certainly, his new book for children, which is about dinosaurs becoming extinct, is easy enough to grasp - as it should be. He came to write The Last Thesaurus by looking at 바카라사이트 word "바카라사이트saurus" and letting his imagination run riot. He wrote it in a couple of days and never thought about which age group it might suit: "If anything I thought about it as a book which would appeal as much to parents as children." He is right. The vocabulary is advanced. One of Muldoon's aims is to suggest that 바카라사이트re is a whole world of incredibly rich and exciting language out 바카라사이트re, which has a past. At 바카라사이트 end of 바카라사이트 book-poem, he has penned ano바카라사이트r poem, "A Colossal Glossary", to explain all 바카라사이트 difficult words in 바카라사이트 first. Written in rhyming couplets, it exhibits all 바카라사이트 verbal fireworks and inventiveness for which Muldoon is famed. It begins thus. "The aardvark's a kind of ant-eater, an 'earth-pig' in Dutch, while abracadabra is a charm much favoured by alchemists. As for that wine-coloured gem, 바카라사이트 amethyst, a Greek would place it in his cup 'so as not to be drunk', a thought no foul-mou바카라사이트d Anglo-Saxon ever thunk."

Muldoon may have a talent to amuse, but in 바카라사이트 end his work is much more ambitious. "Poems should change 바카라사이트 world at some level," he says. "Each poem should change how you read 바카라사이트 world."

The Last Thesaurus is illustrated by Rodney Rigby and published by Faber, price Pounds 8.99.