Ways of Seeing: Character & Craft

“Dauer im Wechsel”. “Permanence in change”. As one of the defining polymathic thinkers of an age, with one of the most prolific legacies of work, Goethe gives us a powerful gateway into this issue. “Dauer im Wechsel” is the title of a poem written by Goethe in his later life. It has travelled with me as a ‘red thread’ in many respects, as a reflection on the constant dynamic between permanence and change through our lives. What is permanent and true at the very core of ourselves? What values do we uphold? What are the central organising principles of our self and do we sustain them through the responsibilities that we take on, and through the flux and flow of our times? Goethe reminds us of the durability of language, through its manifold expressions, as a source of knowledge, provocation, solace, inspiration and connection at a deeply human level.

This issue opens up windows into some of the work that has inspired me, and others, in so many ways, and is designed to offer up both room for reflection, and lessons that can be applied in many aspects of our professional lives.  The Nobel Prize in Literature was awarded in 1995 "for works of lyrical beauty and ethical depth.” This issue of Ways of Seeing celebrates the craft and the character of one of the great polymathic thinkers and creators of our times: Seamus Heaney. Poetry is a profound way of seeing the world, a profound way of understanding ourselves and each other. It seems to matter all the more, in the context of our times where a polarising, siloed slew of narrative has been seeping in so insidiously, which is shallow, divisive and, at worst, regressive, in deeply human ways. And this is where the writer, the poet can offer a way of seeing that compels both reflection and self-reflection.

And that 'ethical depth' is all the more resonant in the context of leading work on character and values by The Oxford Character Project at The University of Oxford , led by the exceptional Edward Brooks and his team. With the backdrop of Oxford's lyrical beauty last week, it was 'ethical depth' that brought everyone together for change for good at The Oxford Character, Culture and Leadership Summit. And one of the most powerful red threads throughout The Summit was language. Language that is intentional, language that is inclusive, language that inspires, is so fundamental to character and leadership. As Heaney reflected on the capability of poetry: “..no lyric has ever stopped a tank.” However, in another sense: "..[poetry and the imaginative arts] verify our singularity, they strike and stake out the ore of self which lies at the base of every individuated life.” This brought to mind a wonderful evocation on the moral imperative of the writer by the magical Ursula Le Guin in Words are My Matter: “That’s how an artist can best speak as a member of a moral community: clearly, yet leaving around her words that area of silence, that empty space, in which other and further truths and perceptions can form in other minds.”

In the opening poem of The Spirit Level and the closing words of ‘The Rain Stick’, I invite you, for a few minutes, to.. ”Listen, now again…”

Heaney and the wideness of language

Heaney’s journey into the ‘wideness of language’, that he references in his Nobel acceptance speech, was also formed from the wideness of his circle of minds. Finders Keepers, a collection of Heaney’s prose writing across three decades, casts further light on the fathoms of Heaney’s knowledge of literature, his curiosity for cultures, and his proximity to a host of creative minds across the world. The moral imperative, that ethical depth rings out in every conversation. Heaney talks about “Joseph Brodsky’s total conviction about poetry as a force for good...” He goes on with the assertion that “Milosz will be remembered as one who kept alive the idea of individual responsibility in an age of relativism.”

Heaney’s was an insightful and incisive voice, speaking to the remarkable in the everyday, and to the everyday in the remarkable.  As Professor Roy Foster frames it so well in On Seamus Heaney:  “..that voice was heard by readers.. not only for its extra-sensory powers of observation, its humanity, and its generosity of vision, but also for its ability to craft language with an unerring economy and to hit on the utterly unexpected, yet utterly appropriate, word.”  Foster also spoke of “..Heaney’s particular genius for establishing the quiddity of things..” That “quiddity of things” comes to mind whenever I think of this affirmation from Mycenae Lookout

“...when morning light Would open like the grain of light being split, Day in, day out, I'd come alive again” 

One of Heaney’s many gifts was in “gleaning the unsaid off the palpable.” (From Field Work, ‘The Harvest Bow’). “Postscript”, the final poem in The Spirit Level, is a stunning manifestation of this. The following lines shine out from a work that is, at the same time, palpable, and otherworldly, in its approach. You imagine Heaney’s words at work, buffeted by the wind upon the shore, as he experiences and captures the unique quality of this sight:

“The surface of a slate-grey lake is lit By the earthed lightning of a flock of swans”

Heaney’s craft comes into its own when he is working with land and landscape. The poems in Field Work yield so much in this respect, to the point that it is almost imperceptible as to where language ends and landscape begins.

”Vowels ploughed into other, opened ground. Each verse returning like the plough turned round” ‘Glanmore Sonnets’

"Anahorish, soft gradient of consonant, vowel-meadow" ‘Anahorish’

“The letters of this alphabet were trees. The capitals were orchards in full bloom The lines of script like briars coiled in ditches.” ‘Alphabets’

Heaney is also a masterclass in metaphor. Ways of Seeing takes on new meaning when you happen upon the disarming beauty of lines such as these, also from one of the most stunning bodies of work, ‘Glanmore Sonnets’:

“The elderflower at dusk like a risen moon.”

"like a new moon glimpsed through tangled glass"

Lessons from Heaney and the wideness of language: As we reflect on these windows into Heaney’s word work, into his craft, I have purposefully shared fragments of the whole. They force us to focus on the sheer power of a few words, of a single word. There is a precision to poetry which is worth holding onto as a reminder of never underestimating the importance of language in so many contexts.

What is telling about the poem ‘Postscript’, a fragment of which is referenced above, is how this work also became an emblem for Heaney, representing an edifying experience as a creator. As Heaney said: “There are some poems that feel like guarantees of your work to yourself..”  This is such a wonderful insight to share with us – and a moment for us to reflect on those markers and milestones that have had the same edifying experience for ourselves.

Personal journeys

And that edifying experience is one that some of you kindly shared over the past weeks. A heartfelt thank you to everyone who got in touch to share the stories of the formative power of poetry in your life, or how poetry has travelled with you in some shape or form. A special thank you to Michael Lamb , for sharing your story about Heaney. Michael is Assistant Professor of Politics, Ethics, and Interdisciplinary Humanities and Executive Director of the Program for Leadership and Character at Wake Forest University . His research focuses on the ethics of citizenship and the role of virtues in public life. This is Michael's story:

“Growing up on a small farm in Tennessee, I did not read or write much poetry, and much of what I read felt esoteric and alienating to me. But in graduate school, a friend recommended Seamus Heaney’s poem, “Digging,” where he recalls watching his father dig potatoes in the Irish soil. “By God, the old man could handle a spade. / Just like his old man.” Celebrating his father and grandfather, Heaney laments that he has “no spade to follow men like them.” But writing offers him a way to honor their legacy. “Between my finger and my thumb,” he concludes, “The squat pens rests. / I’ll dig with it.”

Heaney’s words elicited a thrill of recognition. It was the first time a poem had connected so deeply with my experience growing up on the farm, watching and admiring the artful work of my father and grandfather yet knowing my work would be different. I, too, could honor them by digging with my pen. Heaney taught me that poetry, rather than creating a chasm, could carve a channel connecting two worlds.” 

Again, thank you to everyone who shared their stories - and look out for more of these to come.

Heaney The Educator

That ability 'to connect worlds', brings us, appositely, to Heaney's positions of leadership at Universities, and to his role as teacher, as the nurturer of minds at: Queen's University Belfast , Harvard University , University of California, Berkeley , also serving as the Oxford Professor of Poetry. R.F. Foster’s reflections, again, cast some valuable light here: “His unforced skills as a lecturer made him in much demand.” Colm Toibin gives us another gem of an insight into Heaney: “He preferred the half-said, careful, ambiguous remark to the big statement; he liked the slow smile rather than the easy laugh.”

Lessons from Heaney, the teacher and transmitter: How might we reflect on the words that others use to describe how we engage in any given context? How might we translate the ‘unforced skills as a lecturer’ to our responsibility as leaders, as managers, as sparring partners?

Heaney the linguist and lessons in difficulty

“One of the strongest human cravings is for difficulty.” Robert Pinsky is notable in the world of Heaney, from his time at Berkeley, where Pinsky and Haas were translating the work of the Polish poet Czeslaw Milosz.  A remarkable linguist, Heaney also had a gift as a translator, taking on the ‘difficulty’ of works such as Beowulf, of Virgil’s Aeneid.

Translations take place at a level of listening that, perhaps, is unparalleled. Let us return to the opening invitation, with The Rain Stick, which pulls us in with the words: “Listen, now again”. Dennis O’Driscoll digs into this in his sublime Stepping Stones, to which Heaney responds: “The instruction to listen was directed more to myself than to the reader, a reminder to keep the lyric faith..”

Lessons from Heaney on listening: Complement every business article that you may have read on listening with an act of listening. Seek out the poem The Rain Stick

Read it

Read it again… out loud

And... 'listen, now again'.

In a luminous interview for The Paris Review Heaney talked about the power of poetry:

"to entrance you for a moment above the pool of your own consciousness and your own possibilities." He also talked about “..a belief in poetry as something substantial and sustaining..”.

Thank you for reading - and listening. I hope that this issue has followed in the spirit of that belief, and in the importance and imperative of what we do in life, as both substantial and sustaining. Heaney reminds us of the connection between our character and our craft. He reminds us that it is:

An act of character

An act of profound empathy

A lifelong lesson in curiosity

With a moral responsibility.

Above all, it is a reminder of the ‘extra-ness’ of what it is to be human.

COMPLEMENTARY READING AND LISTENING

Visit: Seamus Heaney HomePlace - thank you Anne Phillipson ! and discover: The Seamus Heaney Centre

Read more of Heaney's work and writers on Heaney:

Field Work, Faber

Finders Keepers, Faber

Opened Ground, Faber

The Spirit Level, Faber

Stepping Stones, Dennis O’Driscoll

On Seamus Heaney, R.F. Foster

Translations of Seamus Heaney, edited by Marco Sonzogni, reviewed here by Tess Taylor in the The New York Times

#brand #culture #generations #leadership #creativity #attention #empathy #generosity #leadership #futureofleadership #nextgen #nextgeneration #crossgenerational #interdisciplinary #learning #education #collaboration