"New Songs" - 1904

from "New Songs" published by O'Donoghue & Co

Here is a look at Ella Young's early entry into the Irish literary scene as chronicled by Ernest Boyd in his 1916 study entitled Ireland's Literary Renaissance. 

In spite of the absorption of literary talent by the Irish Theatre during the past ten years, the poetic impulseof the Eighteen Nineties was not allowed to expire. The dedication of A. E.’s Divine Vision indicated that a group of young poets, not yet known to the general public, was at hand to carry on the work of the generation represented by that volume — the last new book of verse to come from the original Theosophical Movement. Peculiarly fitted for intellectual leadership, A. E. became the link between his own and the rising generation when he selected the poems of this group for a collection entitled New Songs, which appeared shortly before The Divine Vision, in 1904. With this little volume he introduced the poets who had gathered about him, and were preparing, under his influence, to inaugurate the next phase of Anglo-Irish poetry. With the exception of Eva Gore-Booth, none of the contributors to New Songs had published verse in book form prior to its appearance. Padraic Colum, Thomas Keohler, Alice Milligan, Susan Mitchell, Seumas O'Sullivan, George Roberts and Ella Young — these names were previously known only to readers of the more eclectic Irish periodicals. Many of the writers belonged to the Hermetic Society, where they learned from the mystic teaching of A. E. the truths which had fired his own youth. In a limited sense, therefore. New Songs may be described as the manifesto of a school, for its authors stood at least in that personal relation to A. E. which is called discipleship. He was their leader in a more intimate sense than was possible to any other prominent figure in the revival of our poetry.

My research on Ella has shown that she remained very close friends with Padraic Colum, Alice Milligan, Susan Mitchell and Seamus O'Sullivan. I have mentioned a few of these "comrades"  in previous posts. Ella broke off with A.E. over the issue of a divided Ireland. She could not settle for anything less than complete control of the island by the Irish. A.E. was basically tired of the struggle and gave in to the treaty. Ella never forgave him for this and soon after she left Ireland to begin her new life in California. 

"The Virgin Mother" is one of Ella Young's poems included in this anthology. I think it holds the seed for what would become her future work. 

For My Mother on Mother's Day…and Every Day

My mother is 92 years of age and lives near me in a nursing facility. She knows who I am and I visit with her two or three times a week. These days we have strange conversations but every once and awhile I know she is herself - the mom that raised me, loved me, nurtured me, and shared with me her love of words. More than anything, I now feel,  it was her imagination that had the most influence on my early years. She read to me and she also made up stories to fill my dreams with visions and wonderment. 

Perhaps that is why my head has always been full of more stories I want to tell - either through words or images (or both)  - than hours to bring them to life. I thank my mom for the creative gifts I have for without her tender care of that fragile spark I would have given up long ago. 

So in honor of Mom I found this poem in one of her books to share. It is perfect in recalling, for me, those precious moments listening to her words and feeling transformed to a world I knew to be my very own. 

THE FAIRY BOOK
by   Abbie Farwell Brown

When Mother takes the Fairy Book
And we curl up to hear,
'Tis "All aboard for Fairyland!"
Which seems to be so near.

For soon we reach the pleasant place
Of Once Upon a Time,
Where birdies sing the hour of day,
And flowers talk in rhyme;

Where Bobby is a velvet Prince,
And where I am a Queen;
Where one can talk with animals,
And walk about unseen;

Where Little People live in nuts,
And ride on butterflies,
And wonders kindly come to pass
Before your very eyes;

Where candy grows on every bush,
And playthings on the trees,
And visitors pick basketfuls
As often as they please.

It is the nicest time of day -
Though Bedtime is so near, -
When Mother takes the Fairy Book
And we curl up to hear.

Films…Scripts…and not giving up

If I had it to do all over again…
I've been thinking about that concept recently as I realize there are still dreams unfulfilled and challenges I have yet to meet. Looking back to my twenties and thinking about  my secret aspirations from that time,  I realize I dreamed of becoming involved with cinema. I already knew I looked through a camera lens and "saw" a world quite different than what others were seeing. The stumbling block for me was the enormity of it all - I mean, how would a young, and extremely shy and insecure, woman in the 70's become a cinematographer, or perhaps even a director?

Six hours from Hollywood but it may as well have been six hundred…


Anyway, French and Italian cinema (of that time)  beckoned me. That seemed truly impossible.

So that was then. Decades later, during a wet summer in Ireland, I discovered scriptwriting. Here was a world that allowed me to connect my words with my images. Yes!  I explored the Irish film world. Yes! Were my dreams about to be realized after all those many years?

Now here I am back in California and again "Six hours from Hollywood…" I am no longer shy and certainly not insecure but I am much older with responsibilities that have clipped my wings. I have two completed feature-length scripts I would love to sell - love to see them come to life.

Clipped wings are only for the mundane world. Dreams and challenges are of the world I create for myself. Can I sell a script via a website? via Twitter? via Tumblr?  Perhaps and why the hell not?

So I present to the world one of my scripts on its own website.  I dream of one day seeing it come to life.