Icarus imprints itself onto the mind of many aspiring writers at Trinity College and current editors, Cat Grogan and Louise Norris, were no exception. With Ireland’s oldest arts journal entering its 75th year of publication, it felt apt to reflect on Icarus’ past whilst looking forward to its future.
Grogan reflects on her “pretty lofty” first impression of the publication which contributed to the “crippling imposter syndrome” that is generally part and parcel of applying for such a coveted position. Ultimately though, both Grogan and Norris shelved their doubts and applied for editorship. Pragmatically, Louise reasoned that “applying and interviewing for things is always good practice,” and she saw no harm in throwing her hat in the ring.
The pair’s editorial philosophy is characterised by collaboration. “We’ve been reading all the submitted poems out loud and talking about them – what we think works and what doesn’t,” Norris explains. For Grogan, who is a veteran of Trinity publications, Icarus’s iconic two-man structure is one of the publication’s charming idiosyncrasies. “It feels like more of our project,” she says, contrasting it with her time at The Penn Review during International Exchange/Study Abroad, whose editorial process resembled something more democratic and polyphonic. Although neither knew each other before Icarus, their partnership has been a serendipitous one, grounded in a mutual care for the publication.
Both editors are aware of the importance of balancing Icarus’ dense, decorated legacy with reinvention. Norris observed how the publication lends itself to change “because each time it has a different team with different ideas and they bring new things to the table.” Referring specifically to their predecessors, Eloise Rodgers and Charlotte Moore, Grogan said she’s intent on maintaining the whimsy they imbued the publication with. It seems that all 21st century poetry, by virtue of being written in the age of social media, must first beat allegations of superficiality, insipidity and resist wrongful dismissal as “instapoetry,” before being taken seriously. Grogan, however, insists on the poetic integrity of subjects like sexuality and mental health. Their modernity should not be conflated with inherent inferiority.
All too often prestige entails an intellectualism and grandiosity that escalates into inaccessibility. Reflecting on this, Norris understands that Icarus inevitably appears inaccessible because it is just so competitive. “There isn’t that much we can accept,” she admits. On this point of grandiosity, Grogan has realised how hollow religious imagery is often deployed to affect importance. In contrast she has a preference: “poetry that speaks to specificities and the mundane”.Ultimately , though, it’s a juggling act between curating a high calibre of work and appreciating that Icarus is fundamentally a student publication.
On what criteria they look for in a successful submission, both agree that “it’s more of a feeling” they’re after. “The ones we accept feel clean and new, and there will be a bit of a punch.” Conversely, often submissions are unsuccessful when a great idea hasn’t been captured in an equivalently great way yet. Grogan and Norris can tell when the poet is “still processing this thing they’re writing about. We can see from these five lines that they’re going to produce a masterful poem, but they haven’t got there yet”.
For those who are unsuccessful, the pair have conciliatory words. “The selection process is very arbitrary,” Grogan says, “By this I mean, it’s two people’s opinions.” Norris shares this candidness when she says, “even between us, we have different tastes. It just depends on who you’re submitting to.” They also relate to rejection and encourage writers to build something productive from these disappointments.. Norris compiles her writing on a Google Doc and keeps a Notes App page of phrases she likes, that she may come back to later . Likewise Grogan realises that often “there will be outstanding lines that get lost in the wider, longer piece that may be directionless.” She urges writers to hold onto them.
Elaborating on the arbitrariness that’s inseparable from the print process, neither editor believes publishing is a prerequisite to becoming a poet. Although she concedes that getting your work published is validating, as it “signals you that you’re going in the right direction,” Norris cautions against writing something dishonest and inauthentic. “On the flip side, I don’t know if those poems getting accepted into big journals makes you a poet.” Grogan also recognises how the publishing industry is at the whim of market trends that aren’t indicative of poetic merit.
On a more theoretical level, our Icarus editors were asked to comment on notions like “the death of the author” and how far, if at all, they consider the author’s intent when reading work. Norris does acknowledge that “sometimes poetry can feel meandering and aimless and that, sometimes, trying to figure out what is grounding a poem, be it a specific situation or memory, is actually helpful when considering the quality of what we’re reading.” Ultimately, though, they realise that poetry’s brilliance lies in this interpretative space between poet and reader. “It’s great that someone can write a poem and I can read it and it’ll still resonate with me because of whatever I have or haven’t experienced recently,” Grogan thinks.
Reiterating an age-old dilemma, and one that was also posed to last years’ editors, Grogan and Norris were asked whether they consider poetry to have a social or political responsibility. If yes, then do they, as editors, have a responsibility to show or not show certain works. This feels a particularly pertinent issue for Trinity, given the recent renaming of one of the libraries to celebrate poet Eavan Boland. Grogan surmises,“I think art is political, I also think art is personal. But I think that the personal is political.” Regarding the ongoing genocide in Palestine, Norris clarifies that the way she’d want to be intentionally political would be by encouraging Palestinian poets to submit their work. Indeed, one of the featured writers for the upcoming issue is Palestinian poet, Ahmad Almallah. Although both understand that Icarus should not, and will not, heed to their personal political leanings, they embrace poetry’s political potential.
