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Ten Great Religions by James Freeman Clarke

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Everything earthly in the light-world of Ormazd had its protecting deity.
These guardian spirits were divided into series and groups, had their
captains and their associated assistants. The seven Amshaspands (in Zend,
Amesha-cpentas) were the chief among these, of whom Ormazd was first. The
other six were Bahman, King of Heaven; Ardibehescht, King of Fire;
Schariver, King of the Metals; Sapandomad, Queen of the Earth; Amerdad,
King of Vegetables; and Khordad, King of Water.

So ended the second age. In it Ormazd had also produced the great
primitive Bull, in which, as the representative of the animal world, the
seeds of all living creatures were deposited.

While Ormazd was thus completing his light-creation, Ahriman, in his dark
abyss, was effecting a corresponding creation of darkness,--making a
corresponding evil being for every good being created by Ormazd. These
spirits of night stood in their ranks and orders, with their seven
presiding evil spirits, or Daevas, corresponding to the Amshaspands.

The vast preparations for this great war being completed, and the end of
the second age now coming, Ahriman was urged by one of his Daevas to begin
the conflict. He counted his host; but as he found nothing therein to
oppose to the Fravashis of good men, he sank back in dejection. Finally
the second age expired, and Ahriman now sprang aloft without fear, for he
knew that his time was come. His host followed him, but he alone succeeded
in reaching the heavens; his troops remained behind. A shudder ran over
him, and he sprang from heaven upon the earth in the form of a serpent,
penetrated to its centre, and entered into everything which he found upon
it. He passed into the primal Bull, and even into fire, the visible symbol
of Ormazd, defiling it with smoke and vapor. Then he assailed the heavens,
and a part of the stars were already in his power, and veiled in smoke and
mist, when he was attacked by Ormazd, aided by the Fravashis of holy men;
and after ninety days and ninety nights he was completely defeated, and
driven back with his troops into the abyss of Duzahk.

But he did not remain there, for through the middle of the earth he built
a way for himself and his companions, and is now living on the earth
together with Ormazd,--according to the decree of the Infinite.

The destruction which he produced in the world was terrible. Nevertheless,
the more evil he tried to do, the more he ignorantly fulfilled the
counsels of the Infinite, and hastened the development of good. Thus he
entered the Bull, the original animal, and injured him so that he died.
But when he died, Kaiomarts, the first man, came out of his right
shoulder, and from his left Goshurun, the soul of the Bull, who now became
the guardian spirit of the animal race. Also the whole realm of clean
animals and plants came from the Bull's body. Full of rage, Ahriman now
created the unclean animals,--for every clean beast an unclean. Thus
Ormazd created the dog, Ahriman the wolf; Ormazd all useful animals,
Ahriman all noxious ones; and so of plants.

But to Kaiomarts, the original man, Ahriman had nothing to oppose, and so
he determined to kill him. Kaiomarts was both man and woman, but through
his death there came from him the first human pair; a tree grew from his
body, and bore ten pair of men and women. Meschia and Meschiane were the
first. They were originally innocent and made for heaven, and worshipped
Ormazd as their creator. But Ahriman tempted them. They drank milk from a
goat and so injured themselves. Then Ahriman brought them fruit, they ate
it, and lost a hundred parts of their happiness, so that only one
remained. The woman was the first to sacrifice to the Daevas. After fifty
years they had two children, Siamak and Veschak, and died a hundred years
old. For their sins they remain in hell until the resurrection.

The human race, which had thus become mortal and miserable by the sin of
its first parents, assumed nevertheless a highly interesting position. The
man stands in the middle between the two worlds of light and darkness,
left to his own free will. As a creature of Ormazd he can and ought to
honor him, and assist him in the war with evil; but Ahriman and his Daevas
surround him night and day, and seek to mislead him, in order to increase
thereby the power of darkness. He would not be able at all to resist these
temptations, to which his first parents had already yielded, had not
Ormazd taken pity on him, and sent him a revelation of his will in the law
of Zoroaster. If he obeys these precepts he is safe from the Daevas, under
the immediate protection of Ormazd. The substance of the law is the
command, "THINK PURELY, SPEAK PURELY, ACT PURELY." All that comes from
Ormazd is pure, from Ahriman impure; and bodily purity has a like worth
with moral purity. Hence the multitude and minuteness of precepts
concerning bodily cleanliness. In fact the whole liturgic worship turns
greatly on this point.

The Fravashis of men originally created by Ormazd are preserved in heaven,
in Ormazd's realm of light. But they must come from heaven, to be united
with a human body, and to go on a path of probation in this world, called
the "Way of the Two Destinies." Those who have chosen the good in this
world are received after death by good spirits, and guided, under the
protection of the dog Sura, to the bridge Chinevat; the wicked are dragged
thither by the Daevas. Here Ormazd holds a tribunal and decides the fate
of the souls. The good pass the bridge into the mansions of the blessed,
where they are welcomed with rejoicing by the Amshaspands; the bad fall
over into the Gulf of Duzahk, where they are tormented by the Daevas. The
duration of the punishment is fixed by Ormazd, and some are redeemed
earlier by means of the prayers and intercessions of their friends, but
many must remain till the resurrection of the dead.

Ahriman himself effects this consummation, after having exercised great
power over men during the last three thousand years. He created seven
comets (in opposition to the seven planets), and they went on their
destructive paths through the heavens, filling all things with danger, and
all men with terror. But Ormazd placed them under the control of his
planets to restrain them. They will do so, till by the decree of the
Infinite, at the close of the last period, one of the comets will break
from his watchman, the moon, and plunge upon the earth, producing a
general conflagration. But before this Ormazd will send his Prophet
Sosioch and bring about the conversion of mankind, to be followed by the
general resurrection.

Ormazd will clothe anew with flesh the bones of men, and relatives and
friends will recognize each other again. Then comes the great division of
the just from the sinners.

When Ahriman shall cause the comet to fall on the earth to gratify his
destructive propensities, he will be really serving the Infinite Being
against his own will. For the conflagration caused by this comet will
change the whole earth into a stream like melted iron, which will pour
impetuously down into the realm of Ahriman. All beings must now pass
through this stream: to the righteous it will feel like warm milk, and
they will pass through to the dwellings of the just; but all the sinners
shall be borne along by the stream into the abyss of Duzahk. Here they
will burn three days and nights, then, being purified, they will invoke
Ormazd, and be received into heaven.

Afterward Ahriman himself and all in the Duzahk shall be purified by this
fire, all evil be consumed, and all darkness banished.

From the extinct fire there will come a more beautiful earth, pure and
perfect, and destined to be eternal.

* * * * *

Having given this account of the Parsi system, in its later development,
let us say that it was not an _invention_ of Zoroaster, nor of any one
else. Religions are not invented: they grow. Even the religion of Mohammed
grew out of pre-existent beliefs. The founder of a religion does not
invent it, but gives it form. It crystallizes around his own deeper
thought. So, in the time of Zoroaster, the popular imagination had filled
nature with powers and presences, and given them names, and placed them in
the heavens. For, as Schiller says:--

"'Tis not merely
The human being's pride which peoples space
With life and mystical predominance;
For also for the stricken heart of Love,
This visible nature and this lower world
Are all too common."

Zoroaster organized into clearer thought the pre-existing myths, and
inspired them with moral ideas and vital power.



Sec. 8. Relation of the Religion of the Zend Avesta to that of the Vedas.


That the Vedic religion and that of the Avesta arose out of an earlier
Aryan religion, monotheistic in its central element, but with a tendency
to immerse the Deity in nature, seems evident from the investigations of
Pictet and other scholars. This primitive religion of the Aryan race
diverged early in two directions, represented by the Veda and the Avesta.
Yet each retains much in common with the other. The names of the powers,
Indra, Sura, Naoghaithya, are in both systems. In the Veda they are gods,
in the Avesta evil spirits. Indra, worshipped throughout the Rig-Veda as
one of the highest deities, appears in the Avesta as an evil being.[143]
Sura (Cura), one of the most ancient names of Shiva, is also denounced and
opposed in the Avesta[144] as a Daeva, or Dew. And the third (Naoghaithya,
Naouhaiti), also an evil spirit in the Avesta, is the Nasatya of the
Veda,[145] one of the Acvinas or twins who precede the Dawn. The Dews or
Daevas of the Avesta are demons, in the Vedas they are gods. On the other
hand, the Ahuras, or gods, of the Avesta are Asuras, or demons, in the
Vedic belief. The original land of the race is called Aryavesta in the
Laws of Manu (II. 22), and Aryana-Vaejo in the Avesta. The God of the Sun
is named Mithra, or Mitra, in both religions. The Yima of the Parsi system
is a happy king; the Yama of the Hindoos is a stern judge in the realms of
death. The dog is hateful in the Indian system, an object of reverence in
that of Zoroaster. Both the religions dread defilement through the touch
of dead bodies. In both systems fire is regarded as divine. But the most
striking analogy perhaps is to be found in the worship paid by both to the
intoxicating fermented juice of the plant _Asclepias acida_, called Soma
in the Sanskrit and Haoma in the Zend. The identity of the Haoma with the
Indian Soma has long been proved.[146] The whole of the Sama-Veda is
devoted to this moon-plant worship; an important part of the Avesta is
occupied with hymns to Haoma. This great reverence paid to the same plant,
on account of its intoxicating qualities, carries us back to a region
where the vine was unknown, and to a race to whom intoxication was so new
an experience as to seem a gift of the gods. Wisdom appeared to come from
it, health, increased power of body and soul, long life, victory in
battle, brilliant children. What Bacchus was to the Greeks, this divine
Haoma, or Soma, was to the primitive Aryans.[147]

It would seem, therefore, that the two religions setting out from the
same point, and having a common stock of primitive traditions, at last
said each to the other, "Your gods are my demons." The opposition was
mutual. The dualism of the Persian was odious to the Hindoo, while the
absence of a deep moral element in the Vedic system shocked the solemn
puritanism of Zoroaster. The religion of the Hindoo was to dream, that of
the Persian to fight. There could be no more fellowship between them than
there is between a Quaker and a Calvinist.



Sec. 9. Is Monotheism or pure Dualism the Doctrine of the Zend Avesta?


We find in the Avesta, and in the oldest portion of it, the tendencies
which resulted afterward in the elaborate theories of the Bundehesch. We
find the Zearna-Akerana, in the Vendidad (XIX. 33,44,55),--"The Infinite
Time," or "All-embracing Time,"--as the creator of Ahriman, according to
some translations. Spiegel, indeed, considers this supreme being, above
both Ormazd and Ahriman, as not belonging to the original Persian
religion, but as borrowed from Semitic sources. But if so, then Ormazd is
the supreme and uncreated being, and creator of all things. Why, then, has
Ormazd a Fravashi, or archetype? And in that case, he must either himself
have created Ahriman, or else Ahriman is as eternal as he; which latter
supposition presents us with an absolute, irreconcilable dualism. The
better opinion seems, therefore, to be, that behind the two opposing
powers of good and evil, the thesis and antithesis of moral life, remains
the obscure background of original being, the identity of both, from which
both have proceeded, and into whose abyss both shall return.

This great consummation is also intimated by the fact that in the same
Fargard of the Vendidad (XIX. 18) the future restorer or saviour is
mentioned, Sosioch (Caoshyanc), who is expected by the Parsis to come at
the end of all things, and accomplish the resurrection, and introduce a
kingdom of untroubled happiness.[148] Whether the resurrection belongs to
the primitive form of the religion remains as doubtful, but also as
probable, as when Mr. Alger discussed the whole question in his admirable
monograph on the Doctrine of the Future Life. Our remaining fragments of
the Zend Avesta say nothing of the periods of three thousand years'
duration. Two or three passages in the Avesta refer to the
resurrection.[149] But the conflict between Ormazd and Ahriman, the
present struggle between good and evil, the ideal world of the Fravashis
and good spirits,--these unquestionably belong to the original belief.



Sec. 10. Relation of this System to Christianity. The Kingdom of Heaven.


Of this system we will say, in conclusion, that in some respects it comes
nearer to Christianity than any other. Moreover, though so long dead, like
the great nation of which it was the inspiration and life,--though swept
away by Mohammedanism,--its influence remains, and has permeated both
Judaism and Christianity. Christianity has probably received from it,
through Judaism, its doctrine of angels and devils, and its tendency to
establish evil in the world as the permanent and equal adversary of good.
Such a picture as that by Retzsch of the Devil playing chess with the
young man for his soul, such a picture as that by Guido of the conflict
between Michael and Satan, such poems as Milton's Paradise Lost and
Goethe's Faust, could perhaps never have appeared in Christendom, had it
not been for the influence of the system of Zoroaster on Jewish, and,
through Jewish, on Christian thought. It was after the return from Babylon
that the Devil and demons, in conflict with man, became a part of the
company of spiritual beings in the Jewish mythology. Angels there were
before, as messengers of God, but devils there were not; for till then an
absolute Providence ruled the world, excluding all interference of
antagonistic powers. Satan, in Job, is an angel of God, not a devil; doing
a low kind of work, indeed, a sort of critical business, fault-finding,
and looking for flaws in the saints, but still an angel, and no devil. But
after the captivity the horizon of the Jewish mind enlarged, and it took
in the conception of God as allowing freedom to man and angels, and so
permitting bad as well as good to have its way. And then came in also the
conception of a future life, and a resurrection for ultimate judgment.
These doctrines have been supposed, with good reason, to have come to the
Jews from the influence of the great system of Zoroaster.

There is no doubt, however, that the Jewish prophets had already prepared
a point of contact and attachment for this system, and developed
affinities therewith, by their great battle-cry to the nation for right
against wrong, and their undying conviction of an ultimate restoration of
all good things. But the Jews found also in the Persian faith the one
among all religions most like their own, in this, that it had no idols,
and no worship but that addressed to the Unseen. Sun and fire were his
symbols, but he himself was hidden behind the glorious veil of being. And
it seems as if the Jews needed this support of finding another nation also
hating idolatry, before they could really rise above their tendency to
backslide into it. "In the mouth of two witnesses," the spiritual worship
of God was established; and not till Zoroaster took the hand of Moses did
the Jews cease to be idolaters. After the return from the captivity that
tendency wholly disappears.

But a deeper and more essential point of agreement is to be found in the
special practical character of the two systems, regarding life as a battle
between right and wrong, waged by a communion of good men fighting against
bad men and bad principles.

Perhaps, in reading the New Testament, we do not always see how much
Christianity turns around the phrase, and the idea behind it, of a
"kingdom of Heaven." The Beatitudes begin "Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven." Both John the Baptist and Christ
announce that the _kingdom of Heaven_ is at hand. The parables revolve
round the same idea of "the kingdom." which is likened first to this, and
then to that; and so, passing on into the Epistles, we have the "kingdom
of Heaven" still as the leading conception of Christianity. "The kingdom
of God is not meat nor drink";--such are common expressions.

The peculiar conception of the Messiah also is of the King, the Anointed
one, the Head of this divine Monarchy. When we call Jesus the Christ, we
repeat this ancient notion of the kingdom of God among men. He himself
accepted it; he called himself the Christ. "Thou sayest," said he, to
Pilate, "that I am a king. To this end was I born, and for this cause came
I into the world, that I should bear witness unto the truth."

All through antiquity there ran the longing for a communion or association
of the wise and good, in order to establish truth and justice in the
world. The tendency of error is to divide; the tendency of selfishness is
to separation. Only goodness and truth are capable of real communion,
interpenetration, and so of organic life and growth. This is their
strength, power, and hope. Hence all the efforts at associated action in
antiquity, such as the College of Pythagoras, the ideal Republic of Plato,
the Spartan Commonwealth, the communities of the Essenes, the monastic
institutions of Asia and Europe; and hence, too, the modern attempts, in
Protestantism, by Fourier, the Moravians, the Shakers, Saint-Simon, Robert
Owen, and others.

But among the Jews this desire appeared, first in their national
organization, as a theosophic and theocratic community, and afterward,
when this broke down and the nation was divided, in a larger prophetic
hope of the Messianic times. There is a tendency in the human mind, when
it sees a great work to be done, to look for a leader. So the Jewish hope
looked for a leader. Their true King was to come, and under him peace and
righteousness were to reign, and the kingdom of heaven begin on earth. It
was to be on earth. It was to be here and now. And so they waited and
longed.

Meantime, in the Persian religion, the seed of the same hope was sown.
There also the work of life was, to unite together a community of good men
and good angels, against bad men and devils, and so make a kingdom of
heaven. Long and sore should the conflict be; but the victory at last
would be sure. And they also looked for a Sosioch, or Mediator, who was to
be what the Messiah was to be to the Jews. And here was the deep and real
point of union between the two religions; and this makes the profound
meaning of the story of the Star which was seen in the East and which
guided the Magi of Zoroaster to the cradle of Christ.

Jesus came to be the Messiah. He fulfilled that great hope as he did
others. It was not fulfilled, in the sense of the letter of a prophecy
being acted out, but in the sense of the prophecy being carried up and on
to its highest point, and so being filled full of truth and value. The
first and chief purpose of Christianity was, not to save the souls of men
hereafter, as the Church has often taught, but to found a kingdom of
heaven here, on earth and in time. It was not to say, "Lo here!" or "Lo
there!" but to say, "_Now_ is the accepted time"; "the kingdom of God is
among you." In thus continuing and developing to its highest point the
central idea of his national religion, Jesus made himself the true Christ
and fulfilled all the prophecies. Perhaps what we need now is to come back
to that notion of the kingdom of heaven here below, and of Jesus the
present king,--present, because still bearing witness to the truth.
Christians must give up thinking about Christianity as only a means of
escaping a future hell and arriving at a future heaven. They must show
now, more than ever, that, by a union of loving and truthful hearts, God
comes here, immortality begins here, and heaven lies about us. To fight
the good fight of justice and truth, as the disciples of Zoroaster tried
to fight it,--this is still the true work of man; and to make a union of
those who wish thus to fight for good against evil,--this is still the
true church of Christ.

The old religion of Zoroaster died, Taut as the corn of wheat, which, if
it die, brings forth much fruit.

A small body of Parsis remain to-day in Persia, and another in
India,--disciples of this venerable faith. They are a good, moral,
industrious people. Some of them are very wealthy and very generous. Until
Mr. George Peabody's large donations, no one had bestowed so much on
public objects as Sir Jamsetjee Jeejeeboy, who had given to hospitals,
schools, and charities, some years since, a million and a half of dollars.
During our Rebellion, some of the Parsis sent gifts to the Sanitary
Commission, out of sympathy with the cause of freedom and Union.

Who can estimate the power of a single life? Of Zoroaster we do not know
the true name, nor when he lived, nor where he lived, nor exactly what he
taught. But the current from that fountain has flowed on for thousands of
years, fertilizing the souls of men out of its hidden sources, and helping
on, by the decree of Divine Providence, the ultimate triumph of good over
evil, right over wrong.




Chapter VI.

The Gods of Egypt.



Sec. 1. Antiquity and Extent of Egyptian Civilization.
Sec. 2. Religious Character of the Egyptians. Their Ritual.
Sec. 3. Theology of Egypt. Sources of our Knowledge concerning it.
Sec. 4. Central Idea of Egyptian Theology and Religion. Animal Worship.
Sec. 5. Sources of Egyptian Theology. Age of the Empire and Affinities of
the Race.
Sec. 6. The Three Orders of Gods.
Sec. 7. Influence of Egypt upon Judaism and Christianity.



Sec. 1. Antiquity and Extent of Egyptian Civilization.


The ancient Egyptians have been the object of interest to the civilized
world in all ages; for Egypt was the favorite home of civilization,
science, and religion. It was a little country, the gift of the river
Nile; a little strip of land not more than seven miles wide, but
containing innumerable cities and towns, and in ancient times supporting
seven millions of inhabitants. Renowned for its discoveries in art and
science, it was the world's university; where Moses and Pythagoras,
Herodotus and Plato, all philosophers and lawgivers, went to school. The
Egyptians knew the length of the year and the form of the earth; they
could calculate eclipses of the sun and moon; were partially acquainted
with geometry, music, chemistry, the arts of design, medicine, anatomy,
architecture, agriculture, and mining. In architecture, in the qualities
of grandeur and massive proportions, they are yet to be surpassed. The
largest buildings elsewhere erected by man are smaller than their
pyramids; which are also the oldest human works still remaining, the
beauty of whose masonry, says Wilkinson, has not been surpassed in any
subsequent age. An obelisk of a single stone now standing in Egypt weighs
three hundred tons, and a colossus of Ramses II. nearly nine hundred. But
Herodotus describes a monolithic temple, which must have weighed five
thousand tons, and which was carried the whole length of the Nile, to the
Delta. And there is a roof of a doorway at Karnak, covered with sandstone
blocks forty feet long. Sculpture and bas-reliefs three thousand five
hundred years old, where the granite is cut with exquisite delicacy, are
still to be seen throughout Egypt. Many inventions, hitherto supposed to
be modern, such as glass, mosaics, false gems, glazed tiles, enamelling,
were well known to the Egyptians. But, for us, the most fortunate
circumstance in their taste was their fondness for writing. No nation has
ever equalled them in their love for recording all human events and
transactions. They wrote down all the details of private life with
wonderful zeal, method, and regularity. Every year, month, and day had its
record, and thus Egypt is the monumental land of the earth. Bunsen says
that "the genuine Egyptian writing is at least as old as Menes, the
founder of the Empire; perhaps three thousand years before Christ." No
other human records, whether of India or China, go back so far. Lepsius
saw the hieroglyph of the reed and inkstand on the monuments of the fourth
dynasty, and the sign of the papyrus roll on that of the twelfth dynasty,
which was the last but one of the old Empire. "No Egyptian," says
Herodotus, "omits taking accurate note of extraordinary and striking
events." Everything was written down. Scribes are seen everywhere on the
monuments, taking accounts of the products of the farms, even to every
single egg and chicken. "In spite of the ravages of time, and though
systematic excavation has scarcely yet commenced," says Bunsen, "we
possess chronological records of a date anterior to any period of which
manuscripts are preserved, or the art of writing existed in any other
quarter." Because they were thus fond of recording everything, both in
pictures and in three different kinds of writing; because they were also
fond of building and excavating temples and tombs in the imperishable
granite; because, lastly, the dryness of the air has preserved for us
these paintings, and the sand which has buried the monuments has prevented
their destruction,--we have wonderfully preserved, over an interval of
forty-five centuries, the daily habits, the opinions, and the religious
faith of that ancient time.

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Why shouldn't Sarah Palin get a book deal?
Articles published by guardian.co.uk Books

The Blackbird of Belfast Lough keeps singing
Jean Hannah Edelstein: Left-leaning Americans should welcome books from Sarah Palin and Joe the Plumber

At least 13 ways of looking at a blackbird

Int én bec
    ro léic feit
    do rind guip
    glanbuidi
    fo-ceird faíd
    os Loch Laíg
    lon do craíb
    charnbuidi

This weird little scrap of Irish syllabic verse, probably from the 9th century, consists of just 24 syllables, broken up into eight short lines, which have somehow continued to echo in modern Irish verse: the little lyric seems to have stuck; it has proved itself, in Seamus Heaney's words, to have "staying power".

First used in a metrical tract of the 11th century to illustrate a metre called snám súad, the lyric might be translated, literally, as: "The little bird which has whistled from the end of a bright-yellow bill: it utters a note above Belfast Lough – a blackbird from a yellow-heaped branch" (in a translation by Gerard Murphy). Or perhaps: "The little bird has whistled from the tip of his bright yellow beak; the blackbird from a bough laden with yellow blossom has tossed a cry over Belfast Lough" (translation by David Greene & Frank O'Connor).

Perhaps the poem's recent appeal has something to do with the character of the plucky little bird singing out over Belfast – the site of so much tragedy during the past three decades. Blackbird = poet? That, at least, is one way of looking at it.

Poetic versions, and rewrites, and reinterpretations of the poem abound, by John Montague, and John Hewitt, and Seamus Heaney, and Thomas Kinsella (in The New Oxford Book of Irish Verse), and Tomás Ó Floinn (in modern Irish), and by the current director of the Seamus Heaney Centre for Poetry, Ciaran Carson.

Carson tells the story of how, when appointed as the first director of the Seamus Heaney Centre for Poetry, he saw a blackbird pecking around in the little garden outside the School of English and thought it might make an interesting symbol for the newly established centre for creative writing. And so "The Blackbird of Belfast Lough", in word and image, became the Centre's motto and emblem.

Some years later, as writer in residence at the Heaney Centre, I found myself in conversation with two artists, the brothers Oliver and Rory Jeffers. We'd occasionally meet, the three of us, on Saturday mornings to drink coffee and to talk about art and literature, and Oliver would sometimes bring along work-in-progress and Rory would try to explain to me the structure and meaning of the language of images (which I never understood). On a whim, and high on caffeine and big ideas, I thought I would invite a number of local and international artists to read "The Blackbird of Belfast Lough" in its original Irish and its English translations, and to make of it what they would. Which is how I found myself putting together an exhibition now on show at the Heaney Centre.

In his preface to the exhibition catalogue Seamus Heaney suggests that the images might be a way of keeping "the perpetual motion machine of art on the go". I couldn't – obviously – have put it better myself.

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