Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests: snug as a gun.
Under my window, a clean rasping sound
When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:
My father, digging. I look down
Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds
Bends low, comes up twenty years away
Stooping in rhythm through potato drills
Where he was digging.
The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft
Against the inside knee was levered firmly.
He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep
To scatter new potatoes that we picked
Loving their cool hardness in our hands.
By God the old man could handle a spade.
Just like his old man.
My grandfather cut more turf in a day
Than any other man on Toner's bog.
Once I carried him milk in a bottle
Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up
To drink it, then fell to right away
Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods
Over his shoulder, going down and down
For the good turf. Digging.
The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap
Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge
Through living roots awaken in my head.
But I've no spade to follow men like them.
Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests.
I'll dig with it.
Analysis of the Poem
In this poem Heaney sees his father, an old man, digging the flowerbeds. He remembers how his younger, stronger father used to dig in the potato fields when Heaney was a child - and how his grandfather, before that, was an expert turf digger. Heaney knows that he has no spade to follow men like them - he is a writer, not a farmer - so will dig with his pen. He will 'dig' into his past.
Vocabulary expressions
potato drills (line 8) parallel ridges in the earth for growing potatoes
lug (line 10) the flattened top edge of the spade blade, against which the digger pushes with his foot
shaft (line 10) the pole between the handle and the blade
turf (line 17) a section of peat, cut from the ground for fuel
The poem looks at Heaney’s art of writing and the relationship between Heaney and his father.
The early focus is on writing, where the pen is compared using a simile with a gun, almost as if the pen can do as much damage as a gun, if required.
A lot of Heaney’s writing is political, looking at the troubles in Ireland and the use of violence, so there may be a link here.
The focus of the second stanza is on Heaney’s father and him digging outside the window.
There is alliteration ‘gravelly ground’ with the ‘g’ sound expressing the harsh sound the spade makes as it enters the ground.
The third stanza takes us back to when Heaney’s father was 20 years younger, digging in the ‘potato drills’ farming for his livelihood. He sounds skilled at his job as Heaney describes his actions which are precise in stanza 4, the word ‘nestled’ making the spade sound at home against his boot.
The fifth stanza shows his admiration for his father and how this skill has passed down the family generations. He boasts in the sixth stanza of how much more turf his grandfather cut in a day than any other man.
We also see a young Heaney giving his grandfather a bottle of milk.
His admiration for his skill is shown in the seventh stanza with onomatopoeic words ‘nicking and slicing’ showing the skill of his cutting of the turf precisely. We are reminded of the theme of ‘digging’ at the end of the stanza.
This is added to in the penultimate stanza with further onomatopoeia ‘squelch and slap’ and alliteration ‘curt cuts of an edge’ with the ‘c’ sound expressing the precision and the sound of the cutting motion.
Heaney feels he can’t follow them in the same way as he is not skilled at digging in that way.
The final stanza makes the link to himself as he sits with his pen, skilfully placed between his finger and thumb just as his father and grandfather’s spades sat skilfully on the end of their boots.
He will dig with his pen, just as they dug with their spades. His skill is in digging thoughts and emotions with the power of words.
