Poet’s Rituals & Imagination: Maurice Riordan on Writing

Maurice Riordan, a poet whose work spans four decades, is having a moment. Not the kind of moment that breaks the internet, mind you – this is poetry, after all – but a significant one nonetheless, marked by the publication of his Selected Poems and a milestone 50th interview in Peter Mishler’s long-running series for Literary Hub. This isn’t just about celebrating a poet’s career; it’s a quiet assertion of poetry’s enduring relevance in a media landscape obsessed with fleeting virality. The partnership with Faber to showcase their poets is a smart move, a subtle counter-programming to the noise.

Riordan’s self-assessment is particularly intriguing. He admits his work hasn’t “evolved that much,” a level of honesty rarely encountered in artist profiles. It’s a bracingly pragmatic take, and one that subtly challenges the industry’s relentless demand for “reinvention.” The fact that editor Jack Underwood deliberately avoided a chronological ordering of the Selected Poems, instead opting for thematic resonance, speaks to a deeper curatorial vision – one that prioritizes the enduring qualities of the work over a narrative of artistic progression.

The interview reveals a fascinating tension between early ambition and later acceptance. Riordan initially chased the “transformative” power of poetry, influenced by figures like Hart Crane, before settling into a more observational and, as he puts it, “sardonic” approach. This isn’t a story of selling out, but of a writer coming to terms with the limitations – and the quiet power – of his own voice. His description of his creative process – the “binge” periods of intense writing followed by long silences – feels remarkably relatable, even for those outside the literary world. It’s a reminder that creativity isn’t a linear process, and that sometimes, the most important work happens in the spaces *between* projects.

The discussion of Irish literary tradition is particularly layered. Riordan’s awareness of the colonial history embedded within the landscape and literature of his upbringing adds a crucial dimension to his work. He doesn’t shy away from the problematic aspects of the past, acknowledging the “genocidal” rhetoric of figures like Spenser. This isn’t simply historical context; it’s a framing device that informs his entire artistic project.

Currently working on a prose work titled Rope, described as a “contemporary commonplace book,” Riordan continues to explore the associative power of language and memory. The fact that he fears discussing work in progress, lest it “lets the air out of the tyres,” is a testament to his dedication to the craft. It’s a reminder that, even after decades of success, the act of creation remains a vulnerable and precarious undertaking. The upcoming Islands promises further exploration of these themes, and will be keenly anticipated by those who appreciate poetry that is both intellectually rigorous and deeply personal.