LOOKING FOR CORNELIUS

reviewed by Paul Knobloch for READER VIEWS

READER VIEWS

General Fiction LITERARY FICTION SHORT STORIES, NOVELLAS & GRAPHIC NOVELS WOMEN’S FICTION

August 10, 2026

Looking for Cornelius

Diana Hayes
Resource Publications (2025)
ISBN: 979-8385250332
Reviewed by Paul Knobloch for Reader Views (08/2026)

Diana Hayes’s Looking for Cornelius follows Deirdre, a Montreal music teacher who travels to Ireland with Éamon, her gifted thirteen-year-old fiddle student, as he competes for a scholarship at Cork College University. For Éamon, the journey represents an extraordinary opportunity to turn his musical talent into a future. For Deirdre, however, Ireland offers something more personal. Orphaned at twelve when a fire destroyed her family home, she has spent years searching for information about her great-grandfather, Cornelius Ó hAodha, a Traveller from West Cork who survived the Great Hunger and eventually disappeared into the uncertainties of family history. What begins as a musical journey gradually becomes a search for ancestry, belonging, and the ways the past continues to live within us.

Deirdre and Éamon make appealing traveling companions partly because their histories quietly mirror one another. Éamon’s birth mother, Lily O’Connor, was unable to care for him because of addiction and poverty, leaving him to be raised by a loving Polish foster family. Deirdre similarly grew up in foster care after losing her parents, grandparents, and sisters in the fire. Both therefore understand what it means to live with missing pieces in their family histories. Their relationship initially appears to be that of a devoted teacher and exceptional pupil, but Hayes gradually suggests that their connection may run considerably deeper.

Music provides the first clue. Éamon possesses an almost uncanny ability to absorb traditional Irish music, playing flawlessly by ear and instinctively understanding its rhythms and ornamentations. Deirdre recognizes something ancient in his playing because she experiences much the same connection through her own fiddle. When Éamon earns the chance to perform in Cork, their trip takes them through an Ireland where music, history, landscape, and memory continually overlap. At Glendalough they encounter the legends of St. Kevin; at Cashel, Deirdre tells Éamon the tragic story of Little Nellie; and at Cobh and Spike Island they confront histories of emigration, imprisonment, religious institutions, and suffering.

Hayes does not treat these places simply as tourist stops. Each becomes another layer in Deirdre’s attempt to understand her own losses. Her private grief increasingly merges with Ireland’s collective memory, particularly when their travels bring them closer to Skibbereen, one of the areas devastated most severely during the Great Hunger. The descriptions of coffin ships, workhouses, famine graves, and desperate families can be harrowing, but they establish why recovering Cornelius matters so deeply to Deirdre. She is not merely assembling a genealogy. She is trying to give a name and story to someone nearly erased by history.

The supernatural elements become increasingly important as well. Dreams, strange coincidences, music, missing objects, and mysterious figures suggest that Cornelius himself may be guiding Deirdre toward the answers she seeks. Hayes wisely leaves enough ambiguity around many of these encounters to allow them to function simultaneously as ghost story, ancestral memory, and spiritual experience. At the Drombeg Stone Circle, Deirdre and Éamon encounter an old man who mysteriously knows their names and tells them that his wake will occur in Skibbereen two days later.

That promise leads to the novella’s emotional centerpiece. At a traditional wake honoring the famine dead, Deirdre receives a box discovered near an old hearth and bearing Cornelius Eoin Ó hAodha’s name. A mysterious man in a gray suit then reads Cornelius’s recovered letter, finally giving voice to the ancestor Deirdre has pursued for years. Cornelius recounts surviving the famine, escaping to Britain, losing his first wife and child, rebuilding his life, becoming involved with Irish nationalism, suffering a brutal attack, and ultimately returning to Cork to die. His story transforms the historical tragedy surrounding Deirdre into something intimate and human.

Meanwhile, Éamon learns that his extraordinary recital has earned him the Cork scholarship. On the return journey, Deirdre opens Cornelius’s box, where his diary and other belongings provide the final pieces of the mystery. What she discovers brings her search for Cornelius together with Éamon’s mysterious connection to Irish music in a satisfying and unexpected way.

This revelation brings the novella’s themes neatly together. Records can burn, families can scatter, names can disappear, and entire generations can be buried without markers, yet something survives—in stories, music, objects, landscapes, and people. Looking for Cornelius is ultimately less about finding one long-dead ancestor than discovering that belonging can persist despite tremendous loss. Deirdre goes to Ireland looking for Cornelius and finds not only him, but a living piece of the family she believed had disappeared forever.

Revisiting the forest in “Labyrinth of Green”: a review by CANREADS

It has been a while since I revisted the poems in my earlier collection, Labyrinth of Green, published by Plumleaf Press. The books arrived just before the pandemic which made it impossible to carry through with my plans for a launch tour. There was just enough time to launch here at the Salt Spring Island Public Library as well as events in Nanaimo and at Vancouver’s Twisted Poets before everything shut down. I still have copies available, but the book is now essentially out of print. Reach out to me directly if you would like to order a copy directly from me.

Here is the CANREADS review:

info@canreads.ca | www.canreads.ca

Labyrinth of Green by Diana Hayes, Plumleaf Press Sometimes the wildest labyrinths only lead us back to ourselves. Labyrinth of Green by Diana Hayes is a thoughtfully curated collection of poetry and photography that embraces reflection over resolution. Rather than following a conventional narrative,Hayes guides readers through grief, memory, belonging, healing, and humanity’s relationship with the natural world. As such, the collection becomes a marvellous invitation to look inward as much as outward.

Its five-part structure mirrors the labyrinth’s inward journey. Readers first enter the forests and wetlands of Hayes’s Salt Spring Island home before travelling through adolescence, ancestral histories, death, grief, dream, and spiritual awakening. Stand-out poems such as “A Moment’s View,” “Miles for Millions and The Boxer,” and “House of the Grandmother” ground these larger themes in intimate experiences of place, identity, resilience, and home.

One of the collection’s most compelling features is its photography. Carefully chosen images of forests, flowers, coastlines, birds, and landscapes provide moments of visual grounding between the poems’ more abstract reflections. Together, they create an uniquely immersive reading experience, offering quiet moments of consideration before readers continue through the collection. The seamless partnership between poetry and photography leaves a lasting emotional impression, encouraging ongoing contemplation.

Hayes’s natural imagery is particularly evocative. Forests become places of refuge and self-discovery; birds carry grief, freedom, and transformation; water connects memory with renewal. As Hayes writes, “Poems connect us. They are ambassadors when grief blinds us,” while another moving passage reflects, “Home is where the heart lives. We may search for restless decades for this one soulful place.” In Hayes’s hands, the natural world becomes both a map of memory and a pathway toward healing.

Labyrinth of Green’s greatest strength is also its central challenge. Hayes frequently employs uncommon vocabulary, niche references, and layered symbolism that invite careful interpretation. References such as the “medivac bird” reward close reading but could feel elusive for those unfamiliar with the symbolism. The contextual introductions and extensive notes offer helpful guidance, though some poems may require considerable reflection before their emotional significance fully emerges. Readers who enjoy poetry that invites multiple interpretations will likely appreciate this complexity, while those seeking immediate clarity may occasionally feel distanced from the work.

Readers who appreciate reflective, nature-inspired poetry such as Mary Oliver’s will find much to admire here. Hayes transforms forests, memory, and grief into landscapes readers can wander through, discovering something new with every return. Beautifully photographed and deeply reflective, Labyrinth of Green is a meaningful collection to savour rather than rush through—one that rewards patience, reflection, and repeated visits. —CANREADS BOOK REVIEW