Anna Ryan looked down at the group of eager enthusiastic faces sitting in front of her. American, Canadian, Australian, German, Japanese, Italian and French, a truly culturally mixed bag of literature-obsessed fanatics keen to learn even more about one of their heroes. Yeats and his work was the discussion topic of the day. Why she had signed on for the two-weeks-long summer school held in college was beyond her!
She had photocopied the poems and texts she was using and put them up on the internet too. The lecture room was stuffy and hot but they had to put up with it. She began to read from Yeats, ‘He wishes for the Cloths of Heaven’, a poem she knew so well. The small Japanese man seated in the front row with his pretty younger wife kept asking question after question. He was, she guessed, a fellow academic who would purloin half of what she said for his own lecture series back in Tokyo or Osaka or Kyoto next term. No matter, he would spread the word, which was the important thing, words and language and the poet’s imagery appealing to generation after generation, among all nationalities. Yeats had long since passed the boundary of his Irishness and reached a massive global audience.
As she read the words of love and obsession, the poet offering to spread his dreams under the feet of his beloved, she thought of Rob walking along the beach with the dog, the water running across the sand, the spray of the water lashing against the rocks. She stopped for a minute, lost, looking at these strangers, becalmed in words. The truth was she missed him. What was she doing on a fair summer’s day talking to strangers about love and dreams and the hopes of another when the one she loved and hoped for was so far away!
Over the next few days there was a tour of the National Library and a look at the Yeats collection, a visit to Trinity College and a lecture on the history of the Abbey Theatre. Next week there was a visit to Lissadell House and Gardens in Sligo after which she could perhaps bow out and escape to Connemara. Her department head Brendan had suggested she take on two or more similar groups in mid-August but she had been very clear that she had no intention of doing so. She was heading for Gull Cottage for the rest of the summer. Sarah and Evie and her mother were going up there after the weekend and Grace would probably join them for a few days.
Anna planned to spend as much time as she could there combining work on her papers with being with Rob. She didn’t even want to think of next term and the distance between them.
She was tidying up and switching off the PowerPoint and large screen when Brendan appeared. Her group had gone off to sample the delights of lunch in the college dining hall.
‘A few bigwigs in the group,’ he said, casting his eye over her notes and group list.
‘I noticed,’ she said packing up her laptop and notes.
‘Anna, you’re great at this,’ he praised her. ‘Both academics and students love you and the evaluations are always top notch.’
‘Thanks.’ She smiled. ‘But I’ll be glad to have the rest of the summer off to work on my own papers and relax.’
‘I can’t get you to change your mind, then?’ her department head asked as she got ready to leave.
‘Brendan, I told you already, I’m off to Connemara for the rest of the summer.’ She grinned, tossing her hair back over her shoulders, thinking of Roundstone and Gull Cottage and endless days being with Rob. ‘Enjoy the holidays!’