Jana Prikryl

4 weeks ago | the-tls.co.uk | Jana Prikryl |Imogen Cassels |Elizabeth Metzger |Paula Bohince

As morning raises its mast with that mildly aggressive air that feels no less at home anywhere, as far away as you can find a person is something of night does linger even through the shining element, fluorescence of the self-sufficient breezes stirring things It’s not in the shadows, undersides, nothing so literal it may be in the most glaring movements of the light the night crouches enough to say it was and then you see it issues from not being anymore, that special form, relieved to feel...

2 months ago | newrepublic.com | Jana Prikryl

Last thing I thought I wanted in life invite the adolescent to tea, who knew what was true and anything else wouldn’t do, who’d sit with her a minute more than the calendrical reality, yet now will I pause and beckon with a little twitch of the shoulder you don’t want to beckon too broadly, the very weakness of gesture you may trace to the cool required balanced by warm desire, I do not think of her much I’m almost unable to think of her a curtain drops in front of her if she is anywhere...

Nov 2, 2024 | nybooks.com | Jana Prikryl |Fintan O’Toole

Ferdia Lennon’s novel Glorious Exploits brings to life an episode from the Peloponnesian War, when seven thousand Athenian soldiers were captured and crowded into a quarry outside Syracuse after a failed attack on the city.

Nov 2, 2024 | flipboard.com | Fintan O’Toole |Jana Prikryl

8 hours agoGran jailed for pension scam locked up with Ireland's most dangerous prisonersThis gran has been locked up with some of Ireland’s most dangerous women prisoners - after she was jailed for a massive pension scam. Margaret Bergin …3 hours agoPassengers evacuated after bus catches fire on M1 motorwayPASSENGERS WERE EVACUATED from a bus after it caught fire on the M1 motorway in north County Dublin in the early hours of the morning.

Jun 22, 2024 | nybooks.com | Jana Prikryl |Karen Solie

Poets are supposed to be expert at writing about mortality—the phrase “You had one job!” occurs to me, and that job is elegy—but it’s an almost impossible thing to get right, whatever the form. In Karen Solie’s recent essay about her father’s death and her past life as a singer-songwriter, she manages to bring contrary themes and elusive memories together into a moving and unexpected tribute.