Terrapin Book Interview Series: Geraldine Connolly Interviews Dion O'Reilly

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The following is the third in a series of brief interviews in which one Terrapin poet interviews another Terrapin poet, one whose book was affected by the Pandemic. The purpose of these interviews is to draw some attention to these books which missed out on book launches and in-person readings.

Geraldine Connolly: What central themes haunted you in the writing of Ghost Dogs?

Dion O’Reilly: The mind grappling with a world full of both exquisite beauty and also unimaginable evil pervades Ghost Dogs. We shy away from what we call the cruel facts, but if they can be balanced, almost in the way a painter balances light and dark in chiaroscuro, then the poems come alive with insight. I believe such juxtaposition of supposed opposites ignites the lyric moment, an experience of deep connection with the Living World. So I guess I would say connection haunts the book–how to connect, which I feel is the work of poetry.

Gerry: The California landscape is very vivid in your work. How does the landscape of your childhood inform the poems?

Dion: I grew up in a beautiful place–the Soquel Valley, on an eighteen acre ranch with two streams running through it. So I write what I know. But I think it’s a mistake to think we are separate from the world around us. A landscape is a self-portrait; a self-portrait contains a world. I would hope if I grew up in Detroit, I would be able to write about it the way Jamaal May does.
 
Gerry: Can you tell us about your writing process?

Dion: Ghost Dogs contains stories I carried for many years. The difficulty was in seeing the narratives differently. For example, writing about my sister led me to express a new compassion for her. I struggle not to be the heroine of the tale, not to write revenge poems, not to reinforce tired grudges or viewpoints. Gotta say, that’s hard to do, and I don’t know if it’s any easier now than it ever was. Nowadays, I work less from my old narratives and more from prompts, word lists, and form. I think that’s a common evolution for poets. Still, word lists often excavate memories related to those in Ghost Dogs. I think it’s good to allow yourself to be obsessed.

Gerry: Did you find it difficult to organize the book or did the poems fall easily into place?

Dion: Danusha Lameris, Ellen Bass, and Diane Lockward helped me organize Ghost Dogs. I tried not to order chronologically, but rather to look at the poems thematically. The arc goes something like the following: reveling in the beauty of the Living World, the bad stuff that happened, the struggle that ensued, the redemption of adulthood. Animals seemed to appear naturally in every section. It was hard to discern the themes without help. I am currently trying to order my next book, and it’s hard!!!

Gerry: Do you think of yourself as a poet of the body?

Dion: I’m not afraid to talk anatomically about a woman’s body. Many poets are not willing to break taboos or broach certain topics. I’m an uncomfortable truth teller. But so are Sharon Olds, Diane Seuss, Rachel McKibbon, Francesca Bell, and Alexis Rhone Fancher, so I’m not alone!


Gerry: It is very moving that animals play a central role in Ghost Dogs. How do you view your relationship to animals and why do they influence your work so greatly?

Dion: People are animals, and we live in an animal world, even if the human animal seems to dominate. Relationships are important; writing about them is another way to approach how we connect.

Sample poem from Dion’s Ghost Dogs.

Ghost Dogs

Two hundred pounds apiece,

with strong bodies, great black heads,

and sad, sagging faces, they were my companions

through the long years of childhood.

Mastiffs. Herds of them—
studs, a handful of bitches, scores of puppies.

Bored, in dusty clumps, they guarded the driveway,

pulling themselves up

onto oversized padded feet

to trail my horse through the hills,

then—with surprising speed—racing

up steep deer trails in futile pursuit

of coyotes or bobcats.

My friends risked stitches in their thigh skin

by knocking at the door,

and when the proud cars of boyfriends pulled up—

a gleaming ’68 Camaro, a convertible Bel Aire—

the pack ambushed them,

ferocious black muzzles breathing steam

and drooling on the windows.

Some of my visitors departed quickly.

Now, years after leaving home,

I miss the dogs,

how formidable they were,

negotiating between me

and the world. I have

no silent creature at my side

to touch lightly on the wrinkled brow,

no coiled animal to summon,

ready to die for me.

Dion O’Reilly has lived most of her life on a small farm in the Santa Cruz Mountains of California. Her writing appears in such journals as The Massachusetts Review, New Letters, Sugar House Review, Rattle, and Bellingham Review. Her work has also appeared in a number of anthologies, including the Terrapin Books anthology A Constellation of Kisses. Her work has been nominated several times for a Pushcart Prize. An earlier version of Ghost Dogs was a finalist for the Catamaran Poetry Book Prize. She received her MFA from Pacific University. Ghost Dogs is her debut full-length collection.
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Geraldine Connolly is the author of four full-length poetry collections: Food for the Winter (Purdue), Province of Fire (Iris Press), Hand of the Wind (Iris Press) and her latest book, Aileron, published by Terrapin Books in 2018. Her work has appeared in Poetry, The Georgia Review, Cortland Review, and Shenandoah. It has been anthologized in Poetry 180: A Poem a Day for American High School Students, Sweeping Beauty: Poems About Housework, and The Doll Collection. She has been awarded two fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts. She has also received the Margaret Bridgman Fellowship of the Bread Loaf Writers Conference, a Maryland Arts Council fellowship, and the Yeats Society of New York Poetry Prize.
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