Mary KennyWriter’s ‘shallow’ judgement of Irish hero is nothing but attention seeking, writes Mary Kenny
The nuns in my schooldays would sometimes reprimand schoolgirls – yes, myself certainly included – with ‘looking for notice’ as a form of misbehaviour. “You’re just ‘looking for notice’,” went the phrase, indicating conduct unbecoming.
I sometimes think that ‘looking for notice’ is at the root of some individual behaviour and attitudes in public life today. People seem to say and do things to draw attention to themselves or to strike a pose.
I wonder if the writer John Banville’s recent condemnation of Patrick Pearse, and much of the national narrative from 1916, comes into this category? Is Mr Banville looking for attention – yes, writers are inclined to do so – when he claims that Pearse “stole the revolution” and “established the physical force tradition in Irish politics that is still alive today, especially in Northern Ireland and among certain diehard republicans in the south”. Banville’s piece, in the prestigious London Review of Books, has been greeted as something of a sensation, and he has attracted the attention that he may (or perhaps may not, to give him the benefit of the doubt) seek.
But the judgement he expresses is surely a shallow one. Patrick Pearse was a romantic, but he actually called a halt to the hostilities at the GPO because his conscience was disturbed by the loss of life. He was part of a wider national movement which was touched by the zeitgeist in the period of the Great War, and which didn’t flinch from taking up arms, but it’s cheap to suggest that this makes him akin to the Continuity IRA.
Yeats probably did as much to arouse nationalistic feeling in 1916 as Pearse.
Banville’s denunciation of Pearse seems to me to lack depth and shade, and the nuance that a reflective, rather than a sensationalist, analysis would warrant.
His summing-up of Ireland’s narrative since the foundation of the State strikes me as adolescent: describing Dev’s “totalitarian campaign”, aided, of course, by the Catholic Church and leading to a corrupt state of “widespread child abuse”.
History and politics are more complex: national values and attitudes develop from a constellation of confluences.
We might well accuse Mr Banville of ‘looking for notice’: or, at least, his report card might carry the remark “must try harder”.
Churches should advertise for weddings
The number of church weddings has fallen again – from 71% in 2009 to 68% last year. I have made this point before, but it bears repeating: if church weddings are falling, then the churches need to up their game and go after the market share they have lost.
Advertise. Advertise the joy, charm and enchantment of a religious service. Ask parents and families if they want the best for their darling daughters: and what could be better than a lovely church wedding in a charming setting, with great music and architecture?
Use those advertising slogans that have proved so successful elsewhere, such as: ‘You can’t beat the real thing!’ How about ‘the best nuptials go with a Nuptial Mass’?
Is this vulgar and brash? But surely, to urge couples to wed in church is a valid form of evangelisation and to use modern means is perfectly authentic. St Paul would certainly do so.
Tourists flocking to the Wild Atlantic Way
The entire west coast of Ireland, from Donegal down to Kerry and Cork, has been named as the Wild Atlantic Way – with its very own logo – and it must be one of the most brilliant, innovative and successful examples of ‘branding’ ever invented. We all know the west coast of Ireland is rugged and we all know the Atlantic can lash our coasts majestically, and we are all aware that it sometimes rains in these parts: but in naming the entire terrain the Wild Atlantic Way, some genius has turned a necessary fact of geography into a touristic virtue.
For the Wild Atlantic Way is now attracting teems of overseas tourists – many of them French – who are finding the bracing challenges of its wildness a wonderful liberation from the stresses and confinements of everyday modern life. They dress for the climate in sensible, weatherproof clothes and follow the logo as it brings them the adventure of the Atlantic coast.
The coastal towns of the West of Ireland duly fly the flag of various nations to extend a Cead Mile Failte: but although you’ll see many a Continental tricolour, an American Stars and Stripes and the standard of the European Union, the one flag you still will not see is the Union Jack. Geography, it seems, is still overshadowed by history, on the Wild Atlantic Way.
Still, the sincerity of Prince Charles’ visit is recalled with appreciation along those parts of the Wild Atlantic Way that he saw this year, and that’s probably more important than worrying about flags.