Father s Day, 21 June 1992 Just as I was dashing to catch the Dublin- Cork train Dashing up and down the stairs, searching my pockets, She told me that her sister in Cork anted a loan of the axe; It was late June and The buddleia tree in the backyard Had grown out of control. The taxi was ticking over outside in the street, All the neighbours noticing it. You mean that you want me to bring her down the axe? Yes, if you wouldn t mind, that is A simple saw would do the job, surely to God She could borrow a simple saw. She said she d like the axe. OK. There is a Blue Cabs taxi ticking over outside And the whole world inspecting it, I ll bring her down the axe. The axe all four-and-a-half feet of it Was leaning up against the wall behind the settee The fold-up settee that doubles as a bed. She handed the axe to me just as it was, As neat as a newborn babe, All in the bare buff. You d think she d have swaddled it up In something if not a blanket, an old newspaper, But no, not even a token hanky 1
Tied in a bow round its head. I decided not to argue the toss. I kissed her goodbye. The whole long way down to Cork I felt uneasy. Guilt feelings. It s a killer, this guilt. I always feel bad leaving her But this time it was the worst. I could see that she was glad To see me go away for a while, Glad at the prospect of being Two weeks on her own, Two weeks of having the bed to herself, Two weeks of not having to be pestered By my coarse advances, Two weeks of not having to look up from her plate And behold me eating spaghetti with a knife and fork. Our daughters are all grown up and gone away. Once when she was sitting pregnant on the settee It snapped shut with herself inside it, But not a bother on her. I nearly died. As the train slowed down approaching Portarlington I overheard myself say to the passenger sitting opposite me: I am feeling guilty because she does not love me As much as she used to, can you explain that? The passenger s eyes were on the axe on the seat beside me. 2
Her sister wants a loan of the axe.. As the train threaded itself into Portarlington I nodded to the passenger Cúl an tsúdaire! The passenger stood up, lifted down a case from the rack, Walked out of the coach, but did not get off the train. For the remainder of the journey, we sat alone, The axe and I, All the green fields running away from us, All our daughters grown up and gone away. Summary and analysis: The title of the poem brings to mind happy family days and a celebration of the father s role in family life. However, the poem is concerned with separation and loneliness rather than unity and love. The poem opens in a busy domestic setting. In conversational, straightforward language Durcan tells a tale of rushing to get ready for a trip to Cork on the train. The verbs used in the first two lines capture the busyness: the word dashing is used twice and the poet is searching his pockets for something that he presumably needs for the trip but cannot find at this moment. Just then, in the middle of all this frantic rushing, the man s partner asks him to bring an axe on the train with him as her sister in Cork wants to borrow it. The dialogue between the husband and wife is realistic with one interrupting the other, and the normality of their ordinary speech highlights the extraordinary nature of her request. The husband cannot see why his sister-in-law could not make do with a simple saw but his wife is adamant: he must bring the axe. 3
The man is anxious to get away and repeats aloud an earlier observation about the taxi ticking over outside in full view of the neighbours. He seems agitated about this and we wonder why he should care what others think of a taxi waiting out on the road, but it gives us an insight into his nature, specifically his reluctance to draw attention to himself or attract comment. How then will he feel when he has to board the train carrying an unwrapped axe in full view of all the other passengers? He resigns himself to his fate as it is obvious his wife will not back down and he has no more time to argue the point. The axe is a large one and the man s discomfort is clear when he sees that his wife has not bothered to cover it at all. There is humour in the ridiculousness of the situation and in Durcan s comparing the axe to a naked baby. The action of the poem moves to the train now and to the man s reflections on his marriage. He is unhappily aware that his wife is quite happy to see him go and that she relishes the thought of two weeks without him. The man does not appear to blame his wife at all; rather he blames himself. He lacks confidence and can see only too well why his wife would be glad to be spared his awkward table manners and his coarse advances. We are given the impression that his wife has removed herself emotionally from this relationship. The train journey is a symbol of the parting of ways and the axe symbolises destruction. The man mentions that their daughters are all grown up and gone away and there is a great sense of loneliness in that observation. Now there is nothing left to hold the couple together and the troubled marriage seems doomed to failure. 4
Apropos of nothing, it appears, the man remembers an occasion when his wife was pregnant with one of their children and the folding settee snapped shut on her. This startling remark is rendered less shocking and serious by the humorous way it is described, which is typical of Durcan s work. Although the subjects might be sad or distressing a wife being jailed for smashing the family television or a father watching his son playing on the psychiatric hospital football team they are presented with a certain black humour which softens the blow somewhat and avoids overt self-pity. The man now moves from quiet reflection to speaking aloud and, as the train slows, he blurts out an intimate confession to the man beside him, a fact which seems to surprise them both: I overheard myself say His fellow passenger is uncomfortable with the poet s revelation that he feels guilty for the failure of the relationship and his inability to hold onto his wife s love. Again, a potentially sad moment is lightened by the passenger staring at the axe and clearly worrying that he is seated opposite a madman. Perhaps in an effort to change the subject and prove himself normal, the man gives the Irish translation of the town they are passing but this does not have the calming effect he might have hoped for. Instead, it appears to unnerve his fellow passenger to the point that he gets up and leaves the coach, but stays on the train. 5
The man is alone, and it seems that no matter how much he tries, this is to be his fate. The last four lines of the poem are powerful and poignant as the man sits on his own and watches the fields running away from him it seems that everyone and everything is destined to leave him and repeating an earlier remark about his daughters being grown up and gone away. The repetition of the word All at the start of the last two lines and the word away later in lines reinforces the sense of sadness and of loss. 6