James Stephens, born on 2 February 1882 and dead on 26 December 1950, occupies an unusual and still slightly elusive place in Irish literature. He was a poet, novelist, storyteller, essayist, translator, broadcaster, and tireless performer of his own work; he belonged to the generation of the Irish Literary Revival, yet he never fitted comfortably into the movement’s principal categories. He was not, like W. B. Yeats…
“The imagination is the one thing besides honesty that a human being should have.”
Neighbourhood:
Georgian Poets, Irish Poets, Mystical & Spiritual Poets, Nature Poets
Emotional landscape: Longing, Wonder, Peace
In the pantheon of early twentieth-century British poetry, certain voices echo through the decades with enduring resonance, while others fade into the margins of literary history despite their once-prominent positions. Robert Malise Bowyer Nichols belongs to this latter category—a poet whose name once commanded respect in literary circles, whose work appeared alongside that of his more famous contemporaries, yet whos…
“You can't even think of paradise when you're in hell.”
Neighbourhood:
Edwardian Poets, Georgian Poets, War Poets
Emotional landscape: Sorrow, Despair, Longing
