Digging More Deeply in Dublin

I was able to go back to Dublin again this weekend. Of the major European cities I have visited in my life, I am certain I have been to Dublin the most times. It is a fine city, a “fair city,” and a very walkable city. This time I was able to be there with my wife for a few days. She and I have been there together two times before, so this was a return for both of us. Yet, our time in Dublin this time was leisurely and self-directed. We did what we wanted without any timelines or schedules to follow. For me, I was able to see things I had never really seen before, or things I wanted to see in more depth. We looked at Christchurch Cathedral and took time to follow along with the self-guided tour to see the burial site of Strongbow, a rare copy of the Magna Carta, and some amazing architectural features like stained glass windows and ornately tiled floors. We were in no rush. The original building dates to 1080, so there are many layers to explore. It was wonderful to have the time to take it in fully.

    We also went to Dublin Castle, which I have seen many times before, but I have never toured the state rooms. It is a place full of grandeur and history. It was here that Ireland was handed over to the Irish, ceremonially to Michael Collins, and it is also here where James Connolly spent his last days before he was executed for his involvement in the Easter Rising. In other places, like the Throne Room, the Irish government decided to leave the building, with all its English details and decorations to remind itself about its past. Above the throne there is a lion (representing England) and a unicorn (representing Scotland). Each animal has a harp in its clutches.

    The symbolism is strikingly clear. But other elements are there to represent the Irish as an independent nation, including many artworks that have been added to the collections by Irish artists, and many portraits of modern Irish leaders. The last room of the tour is Saint Patrick’s Hall, a place where many banquets, state dinners, inaugurations, balls, and ceremonies have been held. A display provides details of the visit of Queen Elizabeth II in 2011 where she laid a wreath at the Garden of Remembrance and talked about the complexity of English / Irish relations over their long history. She stated that now “we can all see the things that we wish had been done differently, or not at all.” In the video of her speech, I was delighted to see Seamus Heaney sitting at her table. The poet is given pride of place. Then we also saw the Chester Beatty Library, which is chocked full of very early manuscripts and illuminated texts. It is a marvelous collection. There is much more to explore in Dublin if we ever return. Like Christchurch Cathedral, it has a long history, and many complex layers to explore.

The Dungarvan / Lismore Connection

 

Dungarvan Castle

A short trip to Lismore on another sunny day was well worth the time.  We took a short but historically interesting tour of the town, saw an impressive VR tour of Lismore Castle, and had a lovely bowl of soup and toastie sandwich at a local pub. For me, it was a stop that brought much of the history of Ireland and the local area of County Waterford and Dungarvan together. Lismore Castle, built by King John in the later 1100s, is the same man that built Dungarvan Castle. The Dukes of Devonshire built the bridge in Dungarvan across the Colligan River and the bridge in Lismore across the River Blackwater. And Tom Keith gets recognized and stopped on the street in both Lismore and Dungarvan.  Of course the towns are not too far apart, and especially today with the Local Link bus service, there are many links between the two. Lismore’s history seems richer in the modern sense because of its connection to John F. Kennedy, Fred Astaire, and the Cavendish family.  It was also the birthplace of Robert Boyle (the father of modern Chemistry), the onetime home of Sir Walter Raleigh (when he was still in the good graces of Queen Elizabeth I), and the home of the Book of Lismore (a book full of early Irish manuscripts including many stories from the Fenian Cycle).

Lismore Castle

But Dungarvan, too, has a rich history. Ernest Walton (from Abbeyside) won the Nobel prize for Physics in 1951. There is the story of (or mythology of) Mrs. Nagle who saved the town from Cromwell’s invaders in the 1640’s.  It is claimed that she drank to his health when he entered the town.  One of Cromwell’s generals died in town around the same time, so I’m thinking there is much more to this story.  There are also several famous shipwrecks in Dungarvan including the SS Coningbeg and the SS Formby that were torpedoed by the Germans in 1917. And then, of course, there is Gallows Hill.  Dungarvan has a rich history.  It’s less Hollywood than Lismore, but more significantly Irish in its stories methinks.

Gallows Hill

The Depth of Irish Bogs

 

As I have been looking for a newer Irish woman author for my classes on Irish literature, I’ve been trying out a few different names that have been given to me.  Sally Rooney was suggested, and so I picked up a copy of Normal People.  Rooney is a talented writer with a creative narrative style, and in this book her two young-adult characters, Connell and Marianne, lead troubled and complicated lives. They are compelling, and richly painted characters.  At first, I felt uncomfortable with Connell (and his treatment of Marianne) and then I became uncomfortable with Marianne.  They are two characters that develop, but maybe not in the most positive ways. It is a novel that explores mental health issues, sexual desire, and changing relationships.  Overall, it was a book that made me uncomfortable, which is not always a bad thing for a novel to do, but in this case the plot left me convinced that it wasn’t something that would transition easily into the classroom for me. So that was crossed off the list. 

Then I found a copy of Bog Child at the local charity shop.  It is a work that I had heard about, and because of the “Bog Poems” by Seamus Heaney that I had already assigned in previous classes, I thought it would tie in well.  Set in the 1980s, Bog Child, by Siobhan Dowd was a quite enjoyable read.  It is set against a backdrop of the “Troubles” in Northern Ireland, the somewhat random boundary line between the two countries, the issue of ownership (of the past and of the present), the hunger strikers, the Provisional IRA, religious differences, and of course, the recovery of and the mystery around a bog body. It is a quick read that I would categorize as Young-Adult fiction, but I do think I would use it for a class if I travel with students to Ireland again. It has so many possibilities for tying into Irish culture, history, and the literature we read. It is a work that does a good job of presenting the depth of the Irish experience.  As Heaney writes in “Bogland” “Every layer they strip / seems camped on before. / The bogholes might be Atlantic seepage. / The wet center is bottomless” (25-28).

Good Day Sunshine : Dungarvan Edition

 

It’s another beautiful day in Dungarvan. 52 degrees and sunny.  That’s the normal temperature pretty much year-round, I think.  It is a bit warmer in the summer and a bit colder some days in the winter, but they don’t get temperature extremes like we do in the States during the different seasons.  They call the south of Ireland the “Sunny Coast.”  That name seems to have merit. Ireland is known for being rainy, but we have been lucky with weather, and lucky to be in the sunny part of Ireland. Today we wrapped up the poetry of William Butler Yeats, a Nobel Prize winning Irish poet.  Today’s poems were written later in Yeats’ life, and thus they are a bit more difficult and a bit longer winded. That is something I can relate to. The students did well with them. Yeats describes the changing cycles of the seasons, the circles of life, the spirals “turning and turning in the widening gyre” (1) as described in “the Second Coming,” and the “bell-beat” (17) of the swans’ wings as they “scatter wheeling in great broken rings” (11) as described in "The Wild Swans at Coole." Seasons change, but in the cycle of life some things remain constant, like the repetition of the cycle itself.  We finished today’s class with “Among School Children” which I think is a reflection on the cycle, or arc, of life.  It is about youth and age, the corporal and the spiritual, restrictive learning and expansive imagination, art and nature, spiritual love and earthly love, and how these things are not easily separated into oppositions or component parts. The stages of life cannot be separated from life itself, Yeats may be saying. All these things are needed to form something complete, like “the yolk and the white of the one shell” (16). All the seasons are needed, and all the stages of life are needed in order to have a whole. And so, the winter turns to spring, and the spring turns to summer, and the seasons change, if only somewhat when one is in Ireland. 

"Our guttural muse / was bulled"

 “I’m wishing that she won’t be having a beef with me.” – “No, indeed, no, I’m certain.” This exchange was heard between a local young man and a local young lady who were crossing the Greenway bridge with me.  I find myself eavesdropping on conversations to try and pick up the phrasing. They were walking, as young people do, much quicker than me. I wish I could have heard more, but they were soon out of ear shot.  “No, indeed, no” is something I hear often, as is “God willing” and Thanks God.”  I say, “I’ll see you later” and the response is “God willing.” I say, “It’s a beautiful day” and the response is “Thanks God.”  I’ve heard some people using “sound” instead of “thank you” or “that’s good.”  “Are you alright?” they might ask at the pub.  The response is “Pint of Guiness.”  When the pint is served, they say “Here’s you,” or a plain "Now." The response from the patron as they pay might be “Sound.” It is a unique way of communicating that is essentially Irish. 

I also like phrases like “how is himself?” and “your man, there” and “I’m after going for a coffee,” and “he does be a bit dense.” Again, this doesn’t follow convention, or should I say the conventions of others. The poem “Traditions” by Seamus Heaney starts “Our guttural muse / was bulled long ago / by the alliterative tradition” (1-3).  The word “bulled” is interesting here because it is a word that isn’t much in use anymore, but it is much like bullied, or being pushed, I think. I also do believe that the alliterative tradition, like the alliterative revival, is seen as a bit of an easy way to construct poetry, and could certainly be tied to English rather than Irish wordsmiths. Heany might see it as a bit lazy, or uninteresting.  But the Irish way of phrasing things defies English grammar and pushes back against the expectations of outsiders. Maybe it is a language of resistance, or, at least, maybe it is a language that doesn’t want to be constrained by rules.  Makes sense.

Heart of Stone - Deep Heart's Core

 

The Kenmare stone circle, suprisingly quite near the center of town, was well worth seeing.  Not only did we get to have a substantial chat with the local man who manned the entrance and who grew up “at the bottom of the street,” but we also were able to see the circle in our own small group.  There was time to ponder the place and there were ample fairy trees on hand where we left some wishes. My wish was politically motivated and aimed towards a hope for better times in the States.  It was a wish, or a dream for a better future. 

In class, I know there is some interest in pre-Christian sites and works of art, which made me think of Yeats’s “To Some I have Talked with by the Fire.”  To me the poem is about ancient desire that Yeats feels needs to be rekindled: “of the dark folk who live in souls / Of passionate men, like bats in dead trees; / And of the wayward twilight companies / Who sigh with mingled sorrow and content, / Because their blossoming dreams have never bent / Under the fruit of evil and of good” (4-9). It is about the brooding passions of old, intense, authentic, dark, deep, Irish blood that will rise up and “like a storm, cry the Ineffable Name” (12).  This is the hope for something that can’t be spoken of, or named just yet.  For Yeats this may have meant a united and free Ireland. To me (via the wish on the fairy tree) it might stand for the dream of a rational, free, empathetic, and ethical government. In “The Song of the Happy Shepherd,” Yeats is asking for, or hoping for, a shift in our way of thinking and seeing the world.  He does not write a lament about the glories of the past, or a desire to return to the old ways (Make Ireland Great Again).  Instead, he asks for “New Dreams, new dreams” (26). The salvation from the shackles we have placed upon ourselves, the “mind-forged manacles” (as Blake would say), comes from words that celebrate the good parts of the past, but that are also pointed to a progressive future. As he reminds us at the outset of “The Song of the Happy Shepheard,” ---“The woods of Acardy are dead” (1).

Full Circle Irish - A Positive Spin on Eternal Return

 

Today we had a walking tour of Dungarvan with an old friend who is a local historian and a man who everyone in town knows.  He was very active in the first years when Mercyhurst was coming to Ireland, including the first year, 2010, that I was a part of.  He is beginning to be forgetful, and he moves a bit more slowly, so we didn’t cover as much physical ground as we have in the past, but we covered a good amount of historical and cultural ground.  He continues to delight everyone with his gentle demeanor, his good humor, and of course his Irish sensibility.  At one point he mentioned Oliver Cromwell coming through town on his march of destruction, and he made as if he needed to spit.  This pleased me, but I’m not sure that everyone understood the implications of the gesture.  I remembered the 1^st time I was in Ireland, many years ago, and a man told me that when some Irish say Cromwell, they may need to spit.  They must get the bad taste out of their mouths, he said. The walking tour of life continues to repeat itself, but each new time is a blessing.  We hear the story again in different ways and in different places.  It is the same and anew. 

The tour made us a bit late for starting my class today, but the students were happy to stay a bit later to finish the poetry we are working on.  It is cold and windy today, so they were not itching to get outside.  It gave us some time to look at some extra Yeats poetry (beyond the required reading). This included a short, but famous piece:

Last night at the “Upstairs Reading/Music Group” at Downey’s we heard an old Irish tale performed in the character of a Shanachie.  We also heard an acapella rendition of “Down by the Sally Gardens.”  Everything comes full cycle in Ireland for those with eyes that see and ears that hear.