Two years ago Derek Mahon published what he called the 'selected collected' edition of his poems. It was, he said, 'in some senses, a first book, the kind of thing you put behind you before proceeding to the real business of learning and trying to create'. Understandably, he was uncertain about what this 'real business' might produce. Apart from outlawing 'impertinent rhetoricism', he was content simply to advertise himself as being 'at last in a position to begin'. Courtyards in Delft contains the first 14 results—and it's perhaps not surprising that their concerns are strikingly similar to those of his earlier work: the Troubles, the nature of human survival, the obstinate durability of 'mute phenomena', and the value of personal relationships. There is, though, a marked change in the manner of his new poems, if not in their matter. In the past, he has invariably worked best in one of two distinct styles: the cryptic-imagistic—often using details and devices reminiscent of Beckett—and the candid-explicatory. By combining the two in his most successful poem, 'A Disused Shed in Co Wexford', he made an exception to prove the rule: its images retain their elusive mystery in spite of being subject to his lucid analysis.

Most of the poems in Courtyards in Delft attempt to recreate this balance and fusion. But while still flickering quickly and wittily from image to image, they also tend to use longer and more elaborate verse forms, and to argue their themes with greater deliberation…. The danger of this development, obviously, is that the poems will diminish the resonance of their themes by spelling them out too clearly….

There are a number of moments when Mahon seems, tacitly, to be asking himself whether he should persist with this line of development, or revert to the strategies and strengths of his earlier work….

Noticing this dilemma helps to explain why three of the most arresting new poems deal with paintings. By depicting fixed moments in time, they offer refuge from flux at the same time as they highlight its difficulties. That is to say, they help him moderate his need to 'begin' again, and encourage him to write—in the title poem for example—without any sign of self-conscious striving…. (p. 20)