‘“Polder”, how do you pronounce “polder?”’ was the topic of discussion between Seamus Heaney and his editor at Faber and Faber, Charles Monteith, who advised the poet to ‘Never call a book by a title that people aren’t sure how to pronounce.’ ‘Polder’ never made it to the bookstores; neither did ‘Easter Water’, another working title for the same volume. But the collection of poems did finally appear under the title Field Work (1979). As well as receiving sound marketing advice, Seamus Heaney has been highly attuned to the mystical potential of book and poem titles (as well as the look of the book). For Heaney, ‘working titles’ are titles that ‘work’, as in successfully embodying the spirit of the poem or book in a way that resonates with the reader. But most obviously, ‘working titles’ are titles that serve as emblems capable of calling forth the essence of the book or poem from memory. In addition, ‘working titles’ are provisional titles, like ‘Polder’, that after serious consideration by the poet have been replaced because of internal and external pressures.

Heaney has said of the process:

If a title can help engender the ‘poems to come’, then it must also play a role in shaping the books to come. Writing great poems is one thing; giving them great titles is another; but assembling them with authority and vision into a dynamic whole takes more than mere talent. Ultimately, to compose one ‘great’ Yeatsian book out of all the books he has written is the final stroke of the Magus. What informs Heaney’s ‘great book’ is the notion of the poet as shaman and seer, as well as promoter and protester. Heaney has said that: