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Synge, J. M. (John Millington), 1871-1909

"The Aran Islands"


In the evening I had to repeat my tricks here in the kitchen, for
the fame of them had spread over the island.
No doubt these feats will be remembered here for generations. The
people have so few images for description that they seize on
anything that is remarkable in their visitors and use it afterwards
in their talk.
For the last few years when they are speaking of any one with fine
rings they say: 'She had beautiful rings on her fingers like
Lady--,' a visitor to the island.
I have been down sitting on the pier till it was quite dark. I am
only beginning to understand the nights of Inishmaan and the
influence they have had in giving distinction to these men who do
most of their work after nightfall.
I could hear nothing but a few curlews and other wild-fowl whistling
and shrieking in the seaweed, and the low rustling of the waves. It
was one of the dark sultry nights peculiar to September, with no
light anywhere except the phosphorescence of the sea, and an
occasional rift in the clouds that showed the stars behind them.
The sense of solitude was immense. I could not see or realise my own
body, and I seemed to exist merely in my perception of the waves and
of the crying birds, and of the smell of seaweed.
When I tried to come home I lost myself among the sandhills, and the
night seemed to grow unutterably cold and dejected, as I groped
among slimy masses of seaweed and wet crumbling walls.


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