Winner of the 2005 Rooney Prize for Irish Literature; winner of the 2005 Ireland Chair for Poetry Award; the only poetry book long-listed for the Guardian First Book Award. "A confident hybrid of voices and styles...tender and brilliant."--"Irish Times," Journeying between his native Ulster and his adopted London, Nick Laird balances ideas of home and flight, the need for belonging and the need to remain outside. Dexterous, fresh, and deft, "To a Fault" does "more, in its range and ambition, than any other first collection...in at least the last ten years" ("The Independent").
Nick Laird was born in County Tyrone, Northern Ireland in 1975. He read English Literature at Cambridge University, and then worked for several years as a lawyer specializing in international litigation.
He is the author of two novels, Utterly Monkey and Glover's Mistake, and two collections of poetry, To A Fault and On Purpose. A new volume of poetry, Go Giants, is forthcoming from Faber in January 2013.
Laird has won many awards for his fiction and poetry, including the Rooney Prize for Irish Literature, the Jerwood Aldeburgh Prize, the Betty Trask Prize, the Rupert and Eithne Strong award, a Somerset Maugham award, and the Geoffrey Faber Memorial Prize. He has published poetry and essays in many journals including the New Yorker, the London Review of Books and the New York Review of Books, and wrote a column on poetry for two years for the Guardian newspaper.
He has taught at Columbia University, Manchester University and Barnard College.
My friend presented me with the stanzas to his poem "Aubade" last summer, and since then the lines have been stuck in my head. Recently, after finding none of his poetry online, I decided to purchase To a Fault.
Laird's poetry is beautiful, lyrical, absolutely and simplistically haunting. He makes everyday life and occurrences gorgeous. A lot of it is up to interpretation, pure unadulterated emotion presented on a platter of carefully constructed word flow and imagery.
His poetry wavers brilliantly between geometric and organic, seen in lines like "my mother thinks his mood's dependent on the moon / he broke the light switch twice by punching it."
I found Laird difficult to decipher and connect with, at times, but was often struck with a particularly strong image and phrasing, e.g., one that reminded me of T.S. Eliot's "In the room the women come and go/ Talking of Michelangelo" (The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock) for its rhythm: "And you, you pad from the bathroom to Gershwin,/ gentled with freckles and moisturized curves,/ still dripping, made new, singing your footprints/ as they singe the wood floor,/ perfect in grammar and posture" (remarkable for those wonderful phrasings, too, e.g., "gentled with freckles", "singing your footprints"). Also, some powerful, dreamlike images, e.g., "Everyone on earth is sleeping. I am the keel-scrape/ beneath their tidal breathing which is shifting down through tempo/ to the waveform of the sea. "
Favourites:- Poetry, The Length of a Wave, Remaindermen, The Signpost, Aubade, Disclaimer, Pedigree, The Last Saturday in Ulster, Notes towards a Final Definition: Work, The Evening Forecast for the Region, Appendix
“… on the quest for the rest / and a good book / or a decent cause.” (P28)
Having read and enjoyed most of Nick Laird’s later poetry, I was drawn to this first collection - To a Fault - through the cover blurb promising “poems that never shy from difficult choices”, and that offer “brave resolute writings”, “affirming the need to rebuild and to right oneself”.
Whilst my natural curiosity was engaged into a call to action, I then struggled to fully connect this collection with my usual intrigue and emotion. Maybe this collection speaks to another specific set of circumstances rather than any sense of universal that I could sustain my connection to any deeper sense. Sadly it even became quite a slog for me to finish.
Having said that, there were still a few poems that sustained my attention: The Given, The Rope Bridge, To The Wife, Everybody Wear Socks, and Notes towards a Final Destination: Work.
Laird's debut collection of poetry is difficult and challenging. There is a playfulness and infatuation with language that is admirable and sometimes impressive, but it often sacrifices connection or emotion.
Finally got back around to reading this again and I'm still of the opinion that it needs to be read a few more times:) I don't connect with all of the poems but I like many of them and the writing is wonderful all around.
First review, August 26, 2013: Brilliant poetry. Combines a glimpse of Irish culture with traditional philosophy and abstract thinking. Intend on rereading a few more times for full absorption.
There are a few really luminous poems in this collection, but I had a hard time connecting with a lot of it. I found myself simply carrying it back and forth to work without every really feeling like I wanted to crack it open.
I picked up Laird's collection one day while working in the library because he is Zadie Smith's husband, and there is some crossover between their work. Sincere and sharp.