Desi's Diary
Eleven Intimations of Genius
Cliché or not, it is extraordinarily difficult nowadays to understand the bombshell caused by the publication of Edna O’Brien’s first novel The Country Girls in 1960. By today’s standards the book is totally harmless but in the stifling atmosphere of 1950s and early 1960s Ireland, it was tantamount to a moral Armageddon. It is bad enough to begin with that it openly discusses domestic violence – the fact that the young girl smells rashers cooking upon wakening means the HE didn’t come home the night before and that it is safe to venture forth – but then it goes on to suggest that two young girls in Holy Catholic Ireland might have a mind of their own and actually be interested in sex.
In Praise of Small Presses
During the recent bad weather, a conversation I had with a Breton friend who lives outside Montreal came to mind: “When you get up in the morning and you spend two hours digging your car out from the snow to discover that you have dug out your next door neighbour’s car, it is time to go back to bed.” Some weeks ago I intended to read the book earmarked for this article on the train to Dublin. This I duly did only to discover on my return that I had read the wrong book. However, unlike my Breton friend, this error turned out to be somewhat fortuitous as there were many similarities between the two books. Both are published by publishing houses based west of the Corrib, they are both written by women who were not native Galwegians and both are collections of short stories.
Tales of Times Not So Past
When the current recession first loomed just over two years ago, the general consensus by those of a certain age was that it was nothing compared to the dark days of the 70s and 80s. Whether this consensus still holds credence or not is somewhat irrelevant but it does point to the fact that emigration, unemployment, ineffective public services, inept politicians and difficult times have been with us before and will be again, and whether the recession suffered by the country between 1974 and 1990 was tougher that what we are undergoing today is a moot point. It is nonetheless helpful and interesting to revisit those years as it allows one, especially those of us who lived through them, a useful perspective that helps to think outside the box.
A Shrine to Womanhood
Many years ago a young woman, to whom I sent packages of Irish poetry book every other month, sat in my office and requested that I send her no more poetry written by women. Somewhat taken aback by the request, I asked why to which she replied: “Because they are not romantic enough” The answer has intrigued me ever since and it is only when I read through this collection From the Stones that I came close to a sense of its deeper meaning.The whole concept of Womanhood remains for most men and some women something of a mystery and therefore to be approached with caution. Because of this miscomprehension there is a tendency to either stereotype or idolise the gender leading to prejudice or infatuation. The spirit and reality of what it is to be a woman is totally ignored.
Poetry with a Galway Accent
Taking us from the harsh realities of Baile Crua to the cautious serenity of the Spiddle bogs, Hurting God is a short but intense spiritual autobiography. Starting with the sentence “The changes are going to be great in Baile Crua”, Rita Anne Higgins immediately and without apology sets out her stall in her normal uncompromising fashion and if Mary Coughlan’s “Delaney is Back on the Wine” was our introduction to the Shantalla Blues, Rita Anne’s Goddess on the bus to Eyre Square could well be the anthem of the Mervue Blues. The structure of this 70 odd page memoir is unusual, not to say novel, in that a short essay precedes the ten poems therein. The essays contain most of the autobiographical material of the book while the poems mark the inner reaction of the now mature poet.
Yet Another History of Ireland
Since the early Irish monks began laboriously to compile the Annals of Ireland the writing of the “History of Ireland” has become something of a national sport for academics, historians, retired schoolteachers, journalists with the odd eccentric thrown in for god measure. So much so that Thomas Bartlett’s recently published Ireland A History has a tired sense of déjà vu about it sparking the inevitable question: “Do we really need yet another history of Ireland?” Normally such books are worth only a cursory glance before being added to the growing pile of such histories, but Bartlett’s impeccable track record and – a moot question of local pride – his erstwhile connection with Galway as a valued member of NUIG’s excellent History Department earn it much more than that.
The Hunt for Liam and Sam
Although some matches have already been played in May, it is during the month of June that the campaigns for the Liam McCarthy and Sam Maguire really get under way and it is from now until the end of September when the winners of both competitions have been crowned, that just how imbedded into the fabric of Irish Life the G.A.A. is can really be appreciated. This year, in conjunction with the campaign, Gill and Macmillan have published paperback editions of The Liam McCarthy Cup by Seán Óg Ó Ceallacháin and Owen McCann and The History of Gaelic Football by Eoghan Corry, both first published in hardback in 2009.