Well, this is a woppa. xliv + 1252 = 1,296 pages. Don't know if I have it in me to read poetry every day for 43 days, but ahmo give it a good go.
Day 1 (DDRD 3,001) January 20, 2026
Read to page 21 and 693 to 700.
This book is divided between poems (3 to 689) and 691 to 1219). Which makes for awkward reading...especially in a book as heavy as this one. Still I persisted.
It was nice and a revelation to find out that not only did Seamus Heaney admire Gerard Manley Hopkins, but that he even imitated Hopkins' style in his earliest poems.
I have to admit that this was a taxing read. I do love Heaney's poetry, and there are gems in every one of tlthe poems, but it takes a lot of concentration to read poetry, and having to flip back-and-forth between notes detracts from the experience. But of course, it also adds to it.
Day 2 (DDRD 3,002) January 21, 2026
Read to page 38 and 701 to 713. Some of the notes on the poems seem ridiculous to me...many of them point out things like "sheep," in the original, revised to "sheep." I'm not exaggerating, either. Have to admit that it's kind of draining to read this. But het, only a little over 1,200 pages to go, right?
Day 3 (DDRD 3,004) January 22, 2026
Read to page 57, 724.
I do love Seamus Heaney, but I'm thinking hard about whether or not I want to continue this for my DDR. It's kind of exhausting, and I feel like the words are slipping through my fingers.
Day 4 (DDRD 3,005) January 23, 2026
Read to page 77, 734.
Pages 58 to 68 went pretty quickly as (1) they were somewhat interconnected, (2) had few notes, and (3) weren't very good, so easy to glide through. As total last, most of these were song lyrics, and were rhymey and superficial.
My frustration with reading this collection made me think about reading the collection of the complete Blaise Cendrars poems, which I don't recall gave me this trouble. Thinking about that made me think about "Easter in New York," and when I went looking for that I found this (by Cendrars):
"In 1912, at Easter, I was starving in New York, and had been for a number of months. From time to time I took a job, by force of necessity, but I didn’t keep it a week and if I could manage to get my pay sooner than that I quit sooner, impatient to get on with my sessions of reading at the central public library. My poverty was extreme and every day I looked worse: unshaven, trousers in corkscrews, shoes worn out, hair long, coat stained and faded and without buttons, no hat or tie, having sold them one day for a penny in order to buy a plug of the world’s worst chewing tobacco."
Day 5 (DDRD 3,006) January 24, 2026
Read to page 89 / 740 (12 + 6)
I stopped reading for some Dad of Two Autistic Kids Who Are Freaking Out About the Incoming Snowmageddon stuff, and when I got back to it I had to search for where I'd stopped...even though I had a bookmark. As I read backwards, I realized that these poems had moved through me like a Big Mac through my digestive system--swift slide, splash, and no trace left behind.
That's not good.
In fact...I need a break. I might be back, but this just ain't gettin' it right now.
44 + 89 + 40 = 173 pages
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