Subscribe via RSS Feed Connect on Google Plus Connect on Flickr

Tag: satire

Kavanagh poem: the cancer ward

Tuesday, 28 November, 2017 0 Comments

On Thursday here, we’ll celebrate the 350th anniversary of the birth of the satirist Jonathan Swift and on the same day we’ll mark the 50th anniversary of the death of the poet Patrick Kavanagh. That’s why our posts this week commemorate these two significant figures in global and Anglo-Irish letters. Yesterday, we had a joke by Swift; today, we have a poem by Kavanagh and it is read here by the great man himself.

Background: In March 1955, Kavanagh underwent surgery for lung cancer at the Rialto Hospital in Dublin. As the weather improved, he spent much of his time convalescing on the banks of the Grand Canal and composing verse.

The Hospital

A year ago I fell in love with the functional ward
Of a chest hospital: square cubicles in a row
Plain concrete, wash basins — an art lover’s woe,
Not counting how the fellow in the next bed snored.
But nothing whatever is by love debarred,
The common and banal her heat can know.
The corridor led to a stairway and below
Was the inexhaustible adventure of a gravelled yard.

This is what love does to things: the Rialto Bridge,
The main gate that was bent by a heavy lorry,
The seat at the back of a shed that was a suntrap.
Naming these things is the love-act and its pledge;
For we must record love’s mystery without claptrap,
Snatch out of time the passionate transitory.

Patrick Kavanagh (1904 – 1967)


Swift joke: Bankers and lawyers in hell

Monday, 27 November, 2017 0 Comments

On Thursday here, we celebrate the 350th anniversary of the birth of the satirist Jonathan Swift and on the same day we’ll mark the 50th anniversary of the death of the poet Patrick Kavanagh. Therefore, the daily posts this week will commemorate these two significant figures in global and Anglo-Irish letters. First up is Swift, the most influential political commentator of his time, in both England and Ireland. His writings include some of the greatest works of satire in the English language and his poems and pamphlets display an extraordinary versatility in a range of genres. But before we examine his legacy, let’s have one of his jokes.

Swift told the one about a friend of a friend, a struggling writer, who had six brothers — three of them bankers and three of them lawyers. They prospered, but the writer didn’t and he died young and in reduced circumstances. Still, he was a decent man and had never harmed a fly so the expectation was that he’d go straight to Heaven. Imagine, then, his shock upon arriving in Hell. It was, however, a clerical error and once the Satanists discovered the mistake, they transferred him right up to Heaven.

“What was it like in Hell?” asked the curious Saint Peter.

“Oh, it was just like being at home,” answered the writer. “You couldn’t get near the fire for bankers and lawyers.”


Swift and Kavanagh week

Sunday, 26 November, 2017 0 Comments

On Thursday here, we’ll celebrate the 350th anniversary of the birth of the satirist Jonathan Swift and on the same day we’ll mark the 50th anniversary of the death of the poet Patrick Kavanagh. Accordingly, the daily posts here will commemorate these two significant figures in global and Anglo-Irish letters. Age before beauty, they say, so we’ll kick off tomorrow with Swift:

“And he gave it for his opinion, that whosoever could make two ears of corn or two blades of grass to grow upon a spot of ground where only one grew before, would deserve better of mankind, and do more essential service to his country, than the whole race of politicians put together.” Voyage to Brobdingnag, Jonathan Swift

But we’ll have Kavanagh on Tuesday:

“I always say to these here, marry the first man that asks you. There’s only three classes of men a woman should never marry — a delicate man, a drunken man, and a lazy man. I’m not so sure that the lazy man isn’t the worst.” Tarry Flynn, Patrick Kavanagh


Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?

Sunday, 18 January, 2015 0 Comments

The Latin phrase Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? is found in the Satires of the Roman poet Juvenal. The literal translation is “Who will guard the guards themselves?” and the question is commonly posed when referring to the problem of controlling the doings of people in positions of power, which brings us to Saint Fanahan.

It is said that he arrived in Brigown in County Cork in the seventh century and founded a monastery there. Over the generations, a cult of prayer and pilgrimage developed at St. Fanahan’s Well, just a short distance from the ruins of Brigown Church, which is all that is left of the monastic settlement. In the 13th century, a Norman family named “de St. Michel” founded “Villa Michel” in Brigown and the name evolved to Mitchelstown. Every year on 25 November, people from the community pay homage to Saint Fanahan, who now sits in stone in front of the Mitchelstown police station, guarding the guards.

Saint Fanahan


Political satire: EU wins Nobel Peace Prize

Friday, 12 October, 2012

“Political satire became obsolete when Henry Kissinger was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.” Tom Lehrer That was 1973. Today, the Nobel prize committee went one better and gave what some call “its most prestigious prize” to the European Union. Less than pleased is Constantin Gurdgiev, who says that the EU worked its way towards the […]

Continue Reading »

The Guardian tries its hand at Syrian satire

Thursday, 9 August, 2012

It’s been a while since Rainy Day has read Seamus Milne, the Guardian-based apologist for everything from jihad to communism. This week, he tried his hand at satire by laying the blame for the Syrian slaughter firmly at the doorstep of the West. In doing so, he pushed all the buttons beloved of the left: […]

Continue Reading »