Tag: Dublin

Metamorphosis: The butterfly effect

Wednesday, 22 May, 2019

Our image today is by Dublin photographer Willie Poole, who captured this composite of nature in all its beauty. The butterfly is a well-known symbol for life after death because of its metamorphosis from an ambling caterpillar to an almost ethereal flying creature. This symbolism is of great personal meaning to Willie Poole in these days.

Butterfly by Willie Poole

“How does one become butterfly?’ Pooh asked pensively.
‘You must want to fly so much that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar,’ Piglet replied.
‘You mean to die?’ asked Pooh.
‘Yes and no,’ he answered. ‘What looks like you will die, but what’s really you will live on.” — A.A. Milne


Wilde Easter

Monday, 22 April, 2019

As Oscar Wilde lay dying in Paris in November 1900, the priest who received him into the Catholic Church was Father Cuthbert Dunne. When the Dublin cleric ended his days in Mount Argus Monastery, the young Brendan Behan was living nearby in Kildare Road. Like Wilde, he also became a professional wit and, referring to that last-minute conversion, Behan commended Wilde for shedding his sins as life ebbed away. He also reminded the world slyly that the two of them had enjoyed their bisexuality:

“Sweet is the way of the sinner
Sad, death without God’s praise
My life on you, Oscar boy,
Yourself had it both ways.”

Oscar Wilde’s Easter Day was published in 1894, six years before that famous deathbed conversion in Paris. It’s a bitter-sweet poem.

Easter Day

The silver trumpets rang across the Dome:
The people knelt upon the ground with awe:
And borne upon the necks of men I saw,
Like some great God, the Holy Lord of Rome.
Priest-like, he wore a robe more white than foam,
And, king-like, swathed himself in royal red,
Three crowns of gold rose high upon his head:
In splendour and in light the Pope passed home.
My heart stole back across wide wastes of years
To One who wandered by a lonely sea,
And sought in vain for any place of rest:
“Foxes have holes, and every bird its nest,
I, only I, must wander wearily,
And bruise my feet, and drink wine salt with tears.”

Oscar Wilde (1854 – 1900)


Today is Saint Edmund’s Day. It’s personal

Tuesday, 20 November, 2018

According to Bernard Burke’s Vicissitudes of Families, the banner of Saint Edmund, with its three crowns on a blue background, was among those borne during the Norman invasion of Ireland in 1169. The bearers included Maurice FitzGerald, Robert Fitz-Stephen, Redmund Fitz-Hugh, Meiler FitzHenry and Robert Fitz-Bernard. From then on, Saint Edmund’s banner became the standard for Ireland during the Plantagenet era. By the way, Richard de Clare and Raymond le Gros, who featured prominently in the Norman invasion, dedicated a chapel of Christ Church Cathedral in Dublin to Saint Edmund.

The banner of Saint Edmund Who was Saint Edmund? Well, when the Great Heathen Army advanced on East Anglia in 869, the obscure King Edmund led the resistance and he met his death on 20 November at a place known as Haegelisdun, after he refused the Vikings’ demand that he renounce Christ. They beat him, tied him to a tree, shot him with arrows and then beheaded him on the orders of Ivar the Boneless and his brother Ubba. Legend has it that his head was then thrown into the forest but was found by searchers after following the cries of a wolf that was calling out, in Latin, Hic, Hic, Hic (“Here, Here, Here”.)

The name Edmund, which is also spelled Edmond, contains the elements ēad (“prosperity, riches”) and mund (“protector”). The Irish Gaelic forms are Éamon, Éaman and Éamann. The corresponding Anglicised forms are Eamon and Eamonn.

Your blogger’s grandfather on the maternal side was Edmond O’Donnell. He is buried in the graveyard of Lisvernane Church in the Glen of Aherlow, County Tipperary.


All Ireland Hurling Final: Galway vs. Limerick

Sunday, 19 August, 2018

It’s Sunday, 19 August, and 82,000 hurling fans, including family and friends, will trek today to Croke Park in Dublin to watch this year’s All Ireland Final between Galway and Limerick. It should be a wonderful occasion and the hope here is that, when “all doing is done”, as the poet Desmond O’Grady put it, Limerick will win its first title since 1973.

BREAKING: Limerick 3-16 Galway 2-18. Up Limerick, All Ireland Hurling Champions 2018!

Galway and Limerick

Desmond O’Grady was born in Limerick in 1935. He moved to Paris in the 1950s, where he worked in the Shakespeare and Company bookshop. He earned his MA and PhD from Harvard University and appeared in the 1960 Fellini film, La Dolce Vita, playing the role of an Irish poet. During the late 1950s to the mid-1970s, while teaching in Rome, he was European editor of The Transatlantic Review.

A Song Of Limerick Town

We, in the fishblue hours
Of clockstrike early morning;
Sleep in the househuddled doors
Of our eyes, love in our yawning;

Stole through the sailorless streets
Of the still, caught-cuddling town,
Where seabedded fishing fleet sleeps
Fast in the arms of ‘Down

Anchors, all hands ashore.
And now, here with the bulk
Of our talk from the hours before,
Here with the sulking hulks

Of ships, when no bells fore
Or aft will bang in the ears
Of morning and the town clock
Hoarsely churns its gears.

We are made one. I
With the man of the Limerick town
And you with the Shannon stream;
Made one till all doing is done.

Desmond O’Grady (1935 – 2014)


Memento mori

Friday, 16 March, 2018 0 Comments

The 8th of October 1982 was a Friday and it didn’t rain in north County Dublin. In the wider world, it was the day when Poland banned the Solidarity trade union and the musical Cats opened on Broadway, but it was also the day when Séamus Ennis, the legendary piper and music collector, was buried in Naul. One person, and only one person, could have played the obligatory lament at the graveside and the honour went to Liam O’Flynn, who had studied and lived with the master himself, and who best embodied that tradition to which Ennis had devoted his life.

Today, the lament will be played for Liam O’Flynn and all the grace and gravitas that marked a career and a life that gave so much joy to so many people will fulfill the inexorable mortal destiny of “earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” RIP.

Liam O'Flynn lament


Dublin Airport locked in frost

Saturday, 3 March, 2018 0 Comments

This is from Audenesque (in memory of Joseph Brodsky) by Seamus Heaney, Nobel Laureate in Literature. The great airport “unlocking” may take place later today.

“Repetition, too, of cold
In the poet and the world,
Dublin Airport locked in frost,
Rigor mortis in your breast.
Ice no axe or book will break,
No Horatian ode unlock”

Dublin Airport


Dublin snow

Thursday, 1 March, 2018 0 Comments

The Irish poet Patrick Kavanagh found peace beside Dublin’s Grand Canal and he often sat on its bank-side seats to contemplate life and compose verse. John Coll’s statue of Kavanagh was unveiled by President Mary Robinson in 1991 and was inspired by Lines written on a Seat on the Grand Canal, Dublin. Today, Patrick Kavanagh is contemplating the snow that is general all over Dublin and Ireland.

Daisy Snow

Delicate daisy-snow
Like dream-drifts of
Unspoken love.

I shall not touch it with
My sin-soiled hands,
Nor barter for the glow
Of high exotic lands.

Patrick Kavanagh (1904 – 1967)

Kavanagh


Swift: The Brexit Letters

Wednesday, 29 November, 2017 0 Comments

Tomorrow, we’ll celebrate the 350th anniversary of the birth of the extraordinary satirist Jonathan Swift and the same day marks the 50th anniversary of the death of the great poet Patrick Kavanagh. That’s why our posts this week commemorate these two significant figures in global and Anglo-Irish letters. On Monday, we had a joke by Swift; yesterday, a poem by Kavanagh and today we’re back to Swift with political writing that’s still relevant. We’re talking Drapier’s Letters, the first of which was titled To the Shop-Keepers, Tradesmen, Farmers, and Common-People of Ireland.

Background: Drapier’s Letters is the title of seven pamphlets written between 1724 and 1725 by Jonathan Swift, the Dean of St Patrick’s Cathedral in Dublin. His aim was to provoke public opinion in Ireland against the imposition of privately minted copper coinage he believed to be of sub-standard quality. William Wood was granted letters patent to mint the coins, but Swift knew that the licensing was secured by a bribe of £10,000 to the Duchess of Kendal, mistress of King George I. Since this was a very politically sensitive subject, Swift wrote under the pseudonym M. B. Drapier, to protect himself from royal retribution.

Although the letters were condemned by the Irish government of the day, they inspired popular sentiment against Wood and this led to a nationwide boycott, which forced the patent to be withdrawn. Swift was treated as a hero for his defiance of British control over the Irish nation and many historians regard Drapier as a key figure in the creation of a “more universal Irish community”. Along with Gulliver’s Travels and A Modest Proposal, Drapier’s Letters are an essential component of Swift’s political writings.

If the Dean were with us today, what would he write about Brexit? And how would he represent Ireland in the negotiations that are so critical for the future of the islands he loved? Certainly, he would be much more eloquent than Phil Hogan, the Irish apparatchik in Brussels, and he would have choice words for the Lilliputians now governing Ireland with a dysfunctional coalition government. More than likely, however, Swift would have been roundly attacked by these Yahoos because, as he once said, “When a true genius appears in this world, you may know him by this sign, that the dunces are all in confederacy against him.”


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)


Dollyer

Wednesday, 29 March, 2017 0 Comments

Dollymount, known as “Dollyer” to Dubliners, is an area on the north coast of Dublin Bay. A wooden bridge from Clontarf links to Bull Island and the adjoining 5-kilometres long stretch of sandy beach and dunes is called Dollymount Strand.

Dollyer

Note: “Dollymount House” was listed in the Dublin Directory up to 1836, and in 1838 Dollymount appeared for the first time as that of a district, under the heading of “Green Lanes, Dollymount.” It is said locally that the name was used by a member of the Vernon family as a compliment to his wife, Dorothy, or Dolly Vernon.


Pints

Monday, 27 March, 2017 0 Comments

Guinness is a dark beer made using roasted, unmalted barley, hops, water and yeast. But it’s more than just a dark beer. It’s porter. The term was first recorded in the 18th century and is thought to have come from the popularity of dark beer with street and river porters around London who laboured hard for their livings. They were fond of the strongest or “stoutest” dark beer and the breweries soon began marketing “Stout Porter” to this thirsty market segment. Travellers in need of stout porter and sustenance are well cared for at The Yacht Bar on Clontarf Road in Dublin.

Pints