pre-Christian greeting
Rowan
The Irish word for "Good Day" or "Hello" is "Dia dhuit" which means,
literally, "God with you". The reply, "Dia's Muire dhuit" means "God &
Mary with you".
Irish culture & the Gaelic language pre-date the island's conversion to
Christianity by many years. What Gaelic words were used for greetings in
pre-Christian times?
Thank you for any info.
Leslie Sitek
Rowan <al...@columbia.edu> wrote:
In Cornish the same: "Dew genes" means also "God with you" and is used
when you use "Hello" in English.
Before Christian times the Celts had already gods. Wether they used
(these type of) greetings? I don't know. Little of handwriting exists
before 1000..
Regards,
Leslie Sitek
mcau...@primenet.com
A lot of Irish handwriting exists since before 1000 AD. Since
the coming of the Christian missionaries in the 3-5th centuries
at least. Before that, the only writing I know about was the
carving of names in Ogham on gravestones.
Gerry
Eoin O Riain
There is a phrase still used
Mo/ra dhuit - which excludes all mention of the Deity
Eoin
--
Readout, Ireland's Journal of Inst & Control
PO Box 3516, Sean Chill, Co BA/C, Ireland
Teil: +353 1 2822554 or +353 88 663282 Faics: +353 1 2825401
The Instrumentation Signpost: http://www.iol.ie/~readout
Directory of Instrumentation and Control on the Net: http://www.iol.ie/~readout/dir
ryan...@gold.tc.umn.edu
>Eoin
But why on earth is mention of the "Deity" or the Christian God viewed
as a negative? This is what really is ludicrous. My main interest
in folklore and mythology has always been driven by my desire to
understand the spiritual worldview of Irish people, both pagan *and*
Christian--you simply can't know one without the other. The problem
with neo-pagans is they are guilty of demonizing at worst, and
ignoring at best, the living spiritual traditions of the Irish people.
Of course, the main problem is, the neo-pagans rarely know any Irish
people, so they play Disney make believe instead.
Neo-pagans aren't addressing any of the very real problems associated
with Christian religions in Ireland, and supporting Irish people in
that way, are they? Like the problems of intransigence in the peace
process caused by fundamentalist Protestants? Or the devastating
impact the Catholic church had on the relationships between men and
women in Ireland in the past 150 years? Anything to do with the
divorce referendum, the abortion controversies, women's rights? Where
are the neo-pagans when it comes to the very real effects of religion
on people's lives? Busy being "spiritual" rather than "political?"
What a convenient cop-out. Smiley face spirituality. The tyrannical
immorality of middle class "goodness."
How would anyone know what the pre-christian greetings used by Irish
people two thousand years ago were? Why would we care? The greeting
"Dia dhuit" and its response, "Dia's Muire dhuit" is a beautiful
sentiment--it is a blessing conferred on both persons in the exchange.
Irish people greet one another with a blessing that invokes both male
and female deities. Why isn't that good enough for neo-pagans?
Instead of reading John and Caitlin Matthews, it would help if people
studied what people in archaic cultures actually *do.* To greet and
say goodbye with a blessing is very common in many cultures. Because
it happens to invoke a Christian rather than pre-Christian deity is
irrelevant. What *is* relevant is you still get blessed and give your
blessing in the exchange. Or would neo-pagans suggest that because it
is the Christian deities, that somehow makes the blessing less
"authentic," despite the fact it is still used widely today in
Ireland?
Janet
Peter Cassidy
ryan...@gold.tc.umn.edu (ryan...@gold.tc.umn.edu) wrote:
: rea...@iol.ie (Eoin O Riain) wrote:
:
: >There is a phrase still used
:
: >Mo/ra dhuit - which excludes all mention of the Deity
:
:
: >Eoin
:
: >--
: >Readout, Ireland's Journal of Inst & Control
: But why on earth is mention of the "Deity" or the Christian God viewed
: as a negative? This is what really is ludicrous.
Err. Ummm. I didn't hear anyone describing them as negative? Of course
they're not - they're part of what makes up Celtic Culture today
and in the past. Like it or not.
: My main interest
: in folklore and mythology has always been driven by my desire to
: understand the spiritual worldview of Irish people, both pagan *and*
: Christian--you simply can't know one without the other. The problem
: with neo-pagans is they are guilty of demonizing at worst, and
: ignoring at best, the living spiritual traditions of the Irish people.
Somewhat of a generalisation, there. The problem may be with *some*
neo-pagans. Not all. Anyways .... how did this thread twist into
a neo-pagan one again?
: Of course, the main problem is, the neo-pagans rarely know any Irish
: people, so they play Disney make believe instead.
What about Irish neo-pagans? they *do* exist, y'know ....
: Neo-pagans aren't addressing any of the very real problems associated
: with Christian religions in Ireland, and supporting Irish people in
: that way, are they? Like the problems of intransigence in the peace
: process caused by fundamentalist Protestants?
Frankly, the intransigence problem is not entirely due to 'fundamentalist
Protestants', although they do figure in the overall picture. What about
the issue of arms decommissioning - and soemething about a broken
ceasefire?
: Or the devastating
: impact the Catholic church had on the relationships between men and
: women in Ireland in the past 150 years? Anything to do with the
: divorce referendum, the abortion controversies, women's rights? Where
: are the neo-pagans when it comes to the very real effects of religion
: on people's lives? Busy being "spiritual" rather than "political?"
: What a convenient cop-out. Smiley face spirituality. The tyrannical
: immorality of middle class "goodness."
You *do* seem to have a bee in your bonnet over the neo-pagans. I
personally know of neo-pagans in Ireland who campaigned during the
recent Divorce Referendum. They didn't declare themselves as such
and they certainly don't stand out in a crowd. It's not like they
have horns on their head or suchlike!!
:
: How would anyone know what the pre-christian greetings used by Irish
: people two thousand years ago were?
I agree. It *was* a silly question ....
: Why would we care? The greeting
: "Dia dhuit" and its response, "Dia's Muire dhuit" is a beautiful
: sentiment--it is a blessing conferred on both persons in the exchange.
: Irish people greet one another with a blessing that invokes both male
: and female deities. Why isn't that good enough for neo-pagans?
Because it is a specifically *Catholic* greeting. I suspect some Catholics
would have a problem with your reference to the deification of Mary.
As you are well aware, not all of us in Ireland are Catholic, or
Christian for that matter. There are Atheists, Jews, and even
neo-pagans, heavens forbid! Personally, I prefer the familiar
"Cad faoi'" - what's happenin' ... or "Ce'n chaoi' ina bhfuil tu'"
("Cakey will thee", as they tend to pronounce it in Ulster!)
: Instead of reading John and Caitlin Matthews, it would help if people
: studied what people in archaic cultures actually *do.*
Agreed ...
: irrelevant. What *is* relevant is you still get blessed and give your
: blessing in the exchange. Or would neo-pagans suggest that because it
: is the Christian deities, that somehow makes the blessing less
: "authentic," despite the fact it is still used widely today in
: Ireland?
Nahh. That's just your opinion .....
"Dia is ban-Dia dhuit" sounds a tad strange, doesn't it ...
:
: Janet
:
Sla'n go fo'ill,
--
Pete
_______________________________________________________________________
| Peter Cassidy - Cork, Ireland | Si/ na Samhna, |
| *** My opinions only !! *** | Tu/s na Bliain U/r. |
| pcas...@iol.ie | Si/ an Chrann Marbh, |
| http://www.iol.ie/~pcassidy | Deireadh an Tuath. |
|____________________________________________|________________________|
Bob Cameron
> > >Rowan <al...@columbia.edu> wrote:
> > >
> > >>The Irish word for "Good Day" or "Hello" is "Dia dhuit" which means,
> > >>literally, "God with you". The reply, "Dia's Muire dhuit" means "God &
> > >>Mary with you".
> > >
> > >>Irish culture & the Gaelic language pre-date the island's conversion to
> > >>Christianity by many years. What Gaelic words were used for greetings in
> > >>pre-Christian times?
Whereas what ever phrase would have been in vogue in the pre christian
era would have been spoken in a now extinct and probably indecipherable
form of Goidelic, why not just use a modern greting which does not
ereflect belief in the Deity or Christian belief, such as feasgar math-
good evening, or maidainn math, good morning. After all. what do you say
in English when somebody sneezes? I'm sure you don't blurt out what ever
it was the Saxons usee to when they were still kicking about Jutland 1600
years ago. You probably say God bless you or gesundheit--oops I guess that
is ckoser to what the Saxons would have said ;-)
Anton Jordaan
mcau...@primenet.com wrote:
>A lot of Irish handwriting exists since before 1000 AD. Since
>the coming of the Christian missionaries in the 3-5th centuries
>at least. Before that, the only writing I know about was the
>carving of names in Ogham on gravestones.
>
>Gerry
There were far more writings than just gravestone inscriptions. There
were actually libraries. A certain traveller, a think a saint, went to
Ireland before Saint Patrick and he wrote that he 'inspected the books'.
Unfortunately all those books were destroyed by the Christains and
Vikings.
Anton Jordaan
s938...@cosine.up.ac.za
'Ek kom van daar, waar die berge blou is, en feetjies woon...'
mcau...@primenet.com
Anton: Thanks for telling us about pre-Christian writings
in Ireland. I wasn't aware of them.
It is my understanding that the Ogham alphabet was based
on the Latin, though its depiction as lines (one to five)
across a central stem may have been purely Irish. I
remember as a kid doing my own version of "secret
writing" in Ogham.
But was there writing of text in Ireland in those far off
days? What script was used in the libraries you refer
to? If at all possible, could you locate references to
this? Thanks a lot.
My reference to 3-5th centuries was intended to recognise
that there were Christians in Ireland long before Patrick
went there. Certainly in the south and south east. Some
of these may have been considered heretical by the central
Roman authorities. Pelagians?
Gerry
Dr. T.Bone
Janet you are making an assumption regarding neopagans. I travel to
Ireland frequently enough and know several neopagan Irish who attempt to
accept and understand the evolution of spirituality in terms of what it
was as well as what it is. The Matthews' work is a valuable contribution
to those of us searching, it doesn't have to be the end all to be
appreciated. Such greetings as those discussed are probably not far off
from those used by our anscestors, as a reverence for both a father god
as well as for Danu, mother of all was a major part of their reality. The
Christian system easily superimposed on such a culture, with such a
collective consciousness. I think some neopagan folk, among them some
Irish, resent that the imposition of Christianity destroyed some
elements of our original spiritual culture, and hold Christianity itself
to blame instead of the humans weilding it. But if not for the monks,
much of what is written as history, which we later learned were
mythologic traditions, would have been lost.
Another resentment of course lies in the patriarchal nature of
organized Christianity, a decidedly unceltic tradition and, I suspect,
not what Christ-one of the greatest Druids that ever lived-had in mind.
with Aloha...T
Anthony M Annett
In article <4njn43$g...@news.hgea.org>, Dr. T.Bone <tb...@hgea.org> wrote:
> Another resentment of course lies in the patriarchal nature of
>organized Christianity, a decidedly unceltic tradition and, I suspect,
>not what Christ-one of the greatest Druids that ever lived-had in mind.
Hmmmmm. You must indeed have a very wide definition of the word "druid".
I suppose he had some secret he passed onto a group of initiates, which
he no doubt inherited from the Egyptians, and is maintained in the
present day by a bunch of white English speaking people who dress up in
robes, wave swords about, and sit around trees. No doubt, as Umberto
Eco said, the Templars come up somewhere, as they do with all global
conspiracy theories.
Oh yes, Christ chose 12 women. I had quite forgotten that bit.
Et in arcadia ego,
Tony
__________________________________________________________________
"The lunatic...doesn't concern himself at all with logic; he works by
short circuits. For him, everything proves everything else...You can tell
him by the liberties he takes with common sense, by his flashes of
COWBOY
AJ>>Gerry
AJ>There were far more writings than just gravestone inscriptions. There
AJ>were actually libraries. A certain traveller, a think a saint, went to
AJ>Ireland before Saint Patrick and he wrote that he 'inspected the books'.
AJ>Unfortunately all those books were destroyed by the Christains and
AJ>Vikings.
AJ>Anton Jordaan
AJ>s938...@cosine.up.ac.za
AJ>'Ek kom van daar, waar die berge blou is, en feetjies woon...'
ok, translate the above for me. ok
btw, would the old books that were destroyed be written in irish?
wonder why they were destroyed, on purpose or just during the heat of
battle.
david
---
OLX 2.1 TD its a great day to go flying!
COWBOY
AMA>In article <4njn43$g...@news.hgea.org>, Dr. T.Bone <tb...@hgea.org> wrote:
AMA>> Another resentment of course lies in the patriarchal nature of
AMA>>organized Christianity, a decidedly unceltic tradition and, I suspect,
did the ancient irish count their decendency from their mothers or
fathers?
david conley
Risteard MacAisciteal
In article <8C0F01E.01CF...@narconn.com>, cow...@narconn.com says...
>
>
>AMA>In article <4njn43$g...@news.hgea.org>, Dr. T.Bone <tb...@hgea.org>
wrote:
>AMA>> Another resentment of course lies in the patriarchal nature of
>AMA>>organized Christianity, a decidedly unceltic tradition and, I suspect,
>
>
>did the ancient irish count their decendency from their mothers or
>fathers?
the decendency WAS patriarchial in nature. I'm not sure where Mr. Dr T Bone
got his sources, but they are lacking in good supporting evidence.
Take just the names, Mac and O are predominate. This is not just a
latter sentiment. They mean Son of and From. They do nothing more than
state one's ancestors (and the Male ones at that). As for early writings in
Irish culture, just what did they use for an alphabet? It was the Christian
monks who took an interest in writing. The predominance of the culture was
that of an oral tradition. If writing existed, why did the oral historians
have to study in perfecting their memories for upwards of 20 years when they
could have simply written things down. It's the old parable about the gods
giving the gift of writing, and having it looked on with dismay...with this
gift left the oral tradition.
Therefore I refute these findings...The first alphabets were on stone
(OGHAM..once again based on the LATIN alphabet).
to/g go bog e/
Risteard
Peter Cassidy
mcau...@primenet.com wrote:
: A lot of Irish handwriting exists since before 1000 AD. Since
: the coming of the Christian missionaries in the 3-5th centuries
: at least. Before that, the only writing I know about was the
: carving of names in Ogham on gravestones.
:
: Gerry
Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought that Ogham occurred from
the 5th to 9th century - which would put it well within the Christian
Era. Can anyone confirm/refute this ?
graeme fairbrother
In article <4o29ig$m...@kernighan.cs.umass.edu>, Robin Popplestone
<p...@cs.umass.edu> writes
>Peter Cassidy says:
>
>>Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought that Ogham occurred from
>>the 5th to 9th century - which would put it well within the Christian
>>Era. Can anyone confirm/refute this ?
>
>pre-Christian, some Christian. Of course the pagan/christian transition
>occurred later among the Picts than in Ireland/Wales (are there not Ogham
>inscriptions in Wales?). The interesting question about the Pictish stones
>is what they say. If you take them as language, then it would appear to be
>a non-Indo European language. However there is a theory that they are
>a condensed form of dates.
From reading a variety of sources, I am under the impresion that Pictish
language was Gallo-Brythonic (ie pre Brythonic or Gaelic). It is argued,
that they *may* also be a non-indo european language input...ie pre-
celtic Picts.
In relation to Ogham stones (pictish wasn't just writen in Ogham), I
think it is generally presumed that these are Gallo-Brythonic.
Never, heard the theory that they were a condensed form of dates. Do you
have any references?
The Ogham inscriptions in Wales I believe were written in Gaelic, rather
than Brythonic.
Graeme
Turnpike evaluation. For information, see http://www.turnpike.com/
Bob Cameron
> AJ>>Gerry
>
> AJ>There were far more writings than just gravestone inscriptions. There
(snip)>
> AJ>'Ek kom van daar, waar die berge blou is, en feetjies woon...'
Is that Nederlands, maybe. Looks like "I com from there, where the blue
mountain is...
Robin Popplestone
Peter Cassidy says:
>Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought that Ogham occurred from
>the 5th to 9th century - which would put it well within the Christian
>Era. Can anyone confirm/refute this ?
That sounds right. The Pictish inscriptions are in Ogham script. Some are
pre-Christian, some Christian. Of course the pagan/christian transition
occurred later among the Picts than in Ireland/Wales (are there not Ogham
inscriptions in Wales?). The interesting question about the Pictish stones
is what they say. If you take them as language, then it would appear to be
a non-Indo European language. However there is a theory that they are
a condensed form of dates.
The image of a rapid and total conversion of Gaelic Ireland to Christianity
is probably wrong. Pagan influences lasted long, and paganism per se
may have had quite a period of co-existence.
Robin.
Alan Blacklock
Appropos the heading but not the content of this post I wonder if one of our scholars
could give the equivalent of Good day, Goeiendag, Gidday etc. The informal greeting
between acquaintances.
For no particular reason actually, I just collect trivia like this.
Well you gotta do something and this is more socially acceptable than some things....!
Alan
mcau...@primenet.com
Robin: I believe that this is incorrect. Ogham
inscriptions occur well before Ireland was
converted to Christianity, and after.
I won't disagree that conversion wasn't instantaneous!
Some people would say there are pagan influences
there still!
Gerry
Charles Mcgregor
In message <31A4CC...@frc.niwa.cri.nz>
Alan Blacklock <am...@frc.niwa.cri.nz> writes:
Glasgow area.."Hoozit gon?"
North East...."Fit Like?"
Fife.........."Awricht neebur?"
Highlands....."How's yerself?"
--
Chic McGregor......Semiconductor Engineer. chi...@zetnet.co.uk //
cch...@tevm2.nsc.com / ////
///
"We have catcht Scotland and will hold her fast!" ///
Donal O'Sullivan
Anton Jordaan (s938...@cosine.up.ac.za) wrote:
: mcau...@primenet.com wrote:
: >A lot of Irish handwriting exists since before 1000 AD. Since
: >the coming of the Christian missionaries in the 3-5th centuries
: >at least. Before that, the only writing I know about was the
: >carving of names in Ogham on gravestones.
: >
: >Gerry
:
: were actually libraries. A certain traveller, a think a saint, went to
: Ireland before Saint Patrick and he wrote that he 'inspected the books'.
: Unfortunately all those books were destroyed by the Christains and
: Vikings.
:
:
: Anton Jordaan
: s938...@cosine.up.ac.za
:
: 'Ek kom van daar, waar die berge blou is, en feetjies woon...'
:
The certain traveller wrote that he had 'inspected the books'. He must
have written that in Latin and Latin didn't waste words. Do you know the
Latin word he used for 'inspected' ?
The recent discovery of a Roman fort on the east coast surprised everyone
- there had been no written record of it. If the traveller 'inspected'
the books, he must have had both the authority and the ability to read
them. It seems to me that they were probably written in Latin and what he
visited was the Roman quarter and perhaps a Christian sect there?
Donal O'Sullivan.
mcau...@primenet.com
Donal: The premature press release that a "Roman Fort" had
been discovered on the east coast was later retracted. I
believe I read that in the Irish Times. (On the WEB!)
It may be that only a few Roman artifacts were found - which
might only show that there was some trade across the seas
with Ireland. Which is not surprising, since Irish (Co. Wicklow)
gold was found in the pyramids of Egypt!
Gerry
In <4o7mrq$c...@nuacht.iol.ie>, osul...@iol.ie (Donal O'Sullivan) writes:
[snip]
COWBOY
CM>Glasgow area.."Hoozit gon?"
CM>North East...."Fit Like?"
CM>Fife.........."Awricht neebur?"
CM>Highlands....."How's yerself?"
usa south........"how ya doing"
usa texas........."howdy partner
Jeanne Connell
cow...@narconn.com (COWBOY) wrote:
>CM>Fife.........."Awricht neebur?"
Philadelphia, Pa USA - "YO"
Jeanne Connell siobh...@usa.pipeline.com
"Where thou art obliged to speak, be sure to
speak the Truth: For equivocation is half way to Lying,
as lying, the whole way to Hell" William Penn
ryan...@gold.tc.umn.edu
pcas...@iol.ie (Peter Cassidy) wrote:
>ryan...@gold.tc.umn.edu (ryan...@gold.tc.umn.edu) wrote:
>: rea...@iol.ie (Eoin O Riain) wrote:
>:
>: >There is a phrase still used
>:
>: >Mo/ra dhuit - which excludes all mention of the Deity
>:
>:
>: >Eoin
>:
>: >--
>: >Readout, Ireland's Journal of Inst & Control
>:
>: But why on earth is mention of the "Deity" or the Christian God viewed
>: as a negative? This is what really is ludicrous.
>Err. Ummm. I didn't hear anyone describing them as negative? Of course
>they're not - they're part of what makes up Celtic Culture today
>and in the past. Like it or not.
I didn't say *described* as negative, I said *viewed* as negative.
I'm perfectly willing to admit I read implications into some of the
postings in the thread, and interepreted them as being a negative view
of Christian blessings/greetings in Irish. It appeared to me some
people weren't willing to accept the explanations being given at face
value (i.e. there is no way of knowing what pre-Christian Irish people
used as a greeting) simply because they invoked the Christian god.
While some might not agree with my interpretation, interpretation is
what all of us do when we read other people's posts and respond to
them, innit?
My post was my honest response. My frustrations with many neo-pagans
are no different than those with any people who stubbornly insist upon
naively and romantically interpreting the past in a way that
contradicts, denies and/or dismisses the excellent work of a lot of
modern scholars and the living traditions of the people.
My main frustration in the Celtic usenet newsgroup context is with
those people who refuse to accept explanations given in detail with a
good deal of forethought by pretty knowledgeable people, who are
merely trying to help them learn by taking the time to share what they
know, and presenting it as well informed and researched opinions.
Learning requires us to change our way of thinking and sometimes even
our most cherished beliefs, when we are presented with compelling new
evidence that challenges and undermines our previous way of thinking
in order to accomodate the new information. I try to be sensitive and
aware of the difficulty people have doing this--and I know that if
people do change their minds, opinions, beliefs, etc. it isn't usually
an instantaneous thing--it is more likely to happen over time.
However, I go beyond frustrsation to contempt when I see neo-pagans
proselytizing their beliefs here by claiming they accurately reflect
some imaginary lost, secret religion of pre-Christian Celts. I get
angry when they claim their worldview is an "authentic" representation
of the pre-Christian religious worldview of Irish people, when it is
in reality nothing more than modern New Age invented traditions. To be
fair, for many people their inclinations towards accepting the
neo-pagan spin probably reflects nothing more than a very strong
*desire* to accept New Age proselytizing as millenarian relief from
their very real isolation and alienation from meaningful communities,
and a profound lack of spiritual meaning in their lives.
New Age millenarian influences are increasingly having an impact on
popular perceptions of many minority peoples' religions, traditions,
beliefs, etc. Whether that impact is positive and/or negative remains
to be seen. If Irish neo-pagans create their newly invented spiritual
traditions (and I'm not at all opposed to creating new
traditions--particularly spiritual ones) based upon interpretations of
Irish religious history by John and Caitlin Matthews, rather than Mac
Cana, Gantz, Rosse, Jackson, et al, then I think we'll be able to say
definitively something is remiss.
I'm not optipmistic though. In my lifetime, I've seen all things
Irish become assimilated under a "Celtic" banner, I've seen all things
Lakota become assimilated under the "Native American" banner. And
I've seen all things Celtic and Native American marketed, packaged and
sold as nostalgia goods by and for middle class European and European
Americans, who colluded in the destruction of their own communities by
pursuing unchecked their own greed and lust for having a little and
wanting a little more. And so they consume other peoples' living
cultures now--devour them in hopes of regaining a cultural identity.
For most of them, any cultural identity will do--they shop for them,
try on different ones in a New Age boutique here--a different cultural
identity in a workshop there. These are the consumer cultural
identities of the Western urban and suburban middle class removed from
all ties to the land, to survival, cultural or otherwise. The Age of
Aquairius has been repackaged for the millenarian 90s--the age of
designer cultural identities and designer spirituality.
I believe new age middle class narcissism is potentially damaging for
Irish and particularly Gaeltacht cultures--it is just another
insidious form of assimilation into the hegemonic Anglo and
Anglo-American cultures, IMO.
>: My main interest
>: in folklore and mythology has always been driven by my desire to
>: understand the spiritual worldview of Irish people, both pagan *and*
>: Christian--you simply can't know one without the other. The problem
>: with neo-pagans is they are guilty of demonizing at worst, and
>: ignoring at best, the living spiritual traditions of the Irish people.
>Somewhat of a generalisation, there. The problem may be with *some*
>neo-pagans. Not all. Anyways .... how did this thread twist into
>a neo-pagan one again?
Yes, I should have said *many* neo-pagans. ;-) Well, I'm the first
one who used the term neo-pagan in this thread. My personal
experience in the newsgroups here of late has been these kinds of
questions are coming mostly from neo-pagans (although not all--there
are Christian new agers invoking an historically non-existent "Celtic"
Christianity, and I view them as being part of the same broader
problem fo middle class narcissism disguised as "spirituality").
>: Of course, the main problem is, the neo-pagans rarely know any Irish
>: people, so they play Disney make believe instead.
>What about Irish neo-pagans? they *do* exist, y'know ....
Yes, I do know. I managed to track down a winter solstice meeting in
Dublin while I was there, found the New Age bookshop over in Temple
Bar, a publication called "Tuar Ceatha," published by the One World
Centre in Galway; "Ms.Chief" and "Womanspirit," two feminist
periodicals on women's spirituality; "Common Ground" the alternative
living periodical out of Sligo; "Organic Matters" a periodical of the
Irish Organic Farmers & Growers Association, met some pagan artists
who qualified themselves as Irish pagans, not Celtic pagans *or*
neo-pagans, which is an important distinction I myself make as well,
and some I thought were every bit as deluded as their American
counterparts.
I indeed found a lot of diversity in Ireland of this sort, but not by
chance, and certainly not by reading John and Caitlin Matthews books
(a couple of which I have read). I found more pagans in Ireland in my
four months there than probably most Irish people will ever know in
their lifetime because I specifically sought that community of people
out.
Also, I found that some Irish neo-pagans specifically, and many Irish
people generally, weren't particularly knowledgeable about Irish
Gaelic language, history, religious or cultural traditons either,
unless they had direct experience with Gaeltacht cultures. We haven't
even discussed the negative impact New Age proselytizing might have on
Gaeltacht cultures who already suffer from the effects of negative
stereotyping--they are already marginalized and demonized by the
dominant Anglo and Anglo-Irish media representations of them as being
hopelessly provincial religious conservatives/zealots, and backward
looking people living in a romanticized "nationalist" past. New Age
proselytizing and marketing is definitely having an impact on
marginalized American Indian communities in just that way--I see no
reason to suspect that will be different with Gaeltacht communities if
this trend continues. And I'm interested in supporting the living
culture, not romanticizing a fictional past that supports new age
prophesies and prevarications.
And you know what? I also found Irish New Agers selling swan feathers
for 20 pounds a piece. Charlatanism knows know cultural or national
boundaries, now does it?
The same kind of trafficking is being done with eagle feathers here in
the US & in American Indian grave goods, etc. New Age writers like
Lynn Andrews and Carlos Castenada have proudly claimed they have
acquired their collections of American Indian artifacts and goods by
supposedly having them "gifted" to them by American Indian elders (who
in my personal experience would *never* do such a sacriligeous thing)
who's identities conveniently can't be traced. Just wait until the
new age tourists arrive to conduct their ceremonies and begin
destroying thousand year old standing stones & other sites. Its only
a matter of time--such "pilgrimmages" are on offer in the alternative
presses all over in the States.
>: Neo-pagans aren't addressing any of the very real problems associated
>: with Christian religions in Ireland, and supporting Irish people in
>: that way, are they? Like the problems of intransigence in the peace
>: process caused by fundamentalist Protestants?
>Frankly, the intransigence problem is not entirely due to 'fundamentalist
>Protestants', although they do figure in the overall picture. What about
>the issue of arms decommissioning - and soemething about a broken
>ceasefire?
C'mon Pete--that isn't fair. The issue was religion, and I merely
used intransigent fundamentalist Protestants as an example of real
problems with Christians in Ireland that directly impacts the
spiritual lives of Irish people as it relates to the peace process.
By your response are you suggesting the fundamentalists aren't
creating problems in the peace process? The IRA is not a Christian
based organization to the best of my knowledge. I think your comment
here is inappropriate to the context. Let's make distinctions here.
>: Or the devastating
>: impact the Catholic church had on the relationships between men and
>: women in Ireland in the past 150 years? Anything to do with the
>: divorce referendum, the abortion controversies, women's rights? Where
>: are the neo-pagans when it comes to the very real effects of religion
>: on people's lives? Busy being "spiritual" rather than "political?"
>: What a convenient cop-out. Smiley face spirituality. The tyrannical
>: immorality of middle class "goodness."
>You *do* seem to have a bee in your bonnet over the neo-pagans. I
>personally know of neo-pagans in Ireland who campaigned during the
>recent Divorce Referendum. They didn't declare themselves as such
>and they certainly don't stand out in a crowd. It's not like they
>have horns on their head or suchlike!!
No--not just over neo-pagans at all. I have a bee in my bonnet over
cultural expropriation, exploitation and de facto involuntary
assimilation. I think a lot of neo-pagans engage in these practices,
mostly unwittingly, certainly unthinkingly and when challenged on it,
defensively and selfishly.
>:
>: How would anyone know what the pre-christian greetings used by Irish
>: people two thousand years ago were?
>I agree. It *was* a silly question ....
>: Why would we care? The greeting
>: "Dia dhuit" and its response, "Dia's Muire dhuit" is a beautiful
>: sentiment--it is a blessing conferred on both persons in the exchange.
>: Irish people greet one another with a blessing that invokes both male
>: and female deities. Why isn't that good enough for neo-pagans?
>Because it is a specifically *Catholic* greeting. I suspect some Catholics
>would have a problem with your reference to the deification of Mary.
You know I'm not so sure about that Peter. I assume you mean for the
most part older and/or devout, orthodox Catholic people. Some might
have a problem with it, but based on my experiences with the Catholic
church ladies in the US and in Ireland, my understanding of the
goddess archetypes I draw from to gain my spiritual worldview isn't
any different than their worship of Mary or other Catholic female
saints. But I'm quite certain the majority of them wouldn't use the
term "deity" or "goddess" in regards to Mary or the female saints. In
other words, their Catholic beliefs, like my feminist beliefs, are in
reality more inclusive than exclusive, and are syncretised belief
systems--a symbiotic marriage of superficially conflicting models of
"religious" faith. Too many people make the mistake of believing we
need to either get religion or invent one in order to live a spiritual
life. I simply don't believe either is necessary, but a functioning
moral compass certainly is, the ability to make distinctions is, that
kind of thing.
It bothers me that most neo-pagans just can't see the beauty of some
very specifically Irish Catholic aspects of faith. Now if I was
raised in Ireland in the 50s and 60s instead of the US, I would likely
feel differently. I know the abuses by the Irish Catholic church in
certain areas have been incredibly damaging, just as they have been
here. One recent example are the adoption cases sent to America.
Child abuse is another. I never said the issues were easy to sort out
though, did I? And I do have experiences with the Catholic church
that makes me very proud of my association with it--in regards to
human rights and political abuses and injustices particularly, but
also to the strong and deep sense of community the Catholic faith
engenders. In my opinion, it is that sense of community neo-pagans
are seeking, but not finding in their invented traditions. Community
can't be invented, reinvented or revived, and as an Irish person who
has likely seen the government attempts to do just that in your
lifetime, I'm pretty sure you'd agree with that.
>As you are well aware, not all of us in Ireland are Catholic, or
>Christian for that matter. There are Atheists, Jews, and even
>neo-pagans, heavens forbid! Personally, I prefer the familiar
>"Cad faoi'" - what's happenin' ... or "Ce'n chaoi' ina bhfuil tu'"
>("Cakey will thee", as they tend to pronounce it in Ulster!)
Agus "Cen sce/al" freisin. (My cupla focal for the day!) And yes, I'm
aware that Ireland is now, and always has been culturally diverse to a
much greater extent than many historians and pundits would have us
believe. But Irish Catholicism also connects us to other Catholic
peoples around the world--in Asia, Latin America, Africa--one of the
reasons why Catholicism has taken root among indigenous people around
the world (besides a gun being held to their head that is!) is that
the sense of community definitely resonates with people with a strong
identification with familial and communal values. I consider that to
be a positive, rather than a negative thing, despite the fact I find
what Christians did in the name of any of their many empires
despicable. The pearl begins as an irritating grain of sand too.
>: Instead of reading John and Caitlin Matthews, it would help if people
>: studied what people in archaic cultures actually *do.*
>Agreed ...
>: irrelevant. What *is* relevant is you still get blessed and give your
>: blessing in the exchange. Or would neo-pagans suggest that because it
>: is the Christian deities, that somehow makes the blessing less
>: "authentic," despite the fact it is still used widely today in
>: Ireland?
>Nahh. That's just your opinion .....
Not exactly. It was an exaggeration used to make my point. I'm
incredibly pedantic aren't I?
Is mise le meas,
Janet
Donal O'Sullivan
Peter Cassidy (pcas...@iol.ie) wrote:
: mcau...@primenet.com wrote:
: : A lot of Irish handwriting exists since before 1000 AD. Since
: : the coming of the Christian missionaries in the 3-5th centuries
: : at least. Before that, the only writing I know about was the
: : carving of names in Ogham on gravestones.
: :
: : Gerry
: :
: Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought that Ogham occurred from
: the 5th to 9th century - which would put it well within the Christian
: Era. Can anyone confirm/refute this ?
: --
: _______________________________________________________________________
: | Peter Cassidy - Cork, Ireland | Si/ na Samhna, |
: | *** My opinions only !! *** | Tu/s na Bliain U/r. |
: | pcas...@iol.ie | Si/ an Chrann Marbh, |
: | http://www.iol.ie/~pcassidy | Deireadh an Tuath. |
: |____________________________________________|________________________|
I saw your sig - "My opinions only !!" That's presumptious:
A Poem for your edification:
NIGHT SHIFT
I am blest, in my middle year;
With doctor, lawyer, artist and friend.
Doctor, here is my diagnosis.
Lawyer, I appeal to your better nature.
Artist, "What is it?"
Represent.
My dog, my kit and kine, I will tell you,
"Mine!"
For the record, I grew up with Gaelic speaking, what do youse call them?
Pagans? I think they are all gone now and I'm the last one left, maybe. I
could be encouraged to talk about it. I'm a bit shy. Sorry...
Donal
--
M. T. McGeough
Donal,
Please speak what you know. There will be a time when we don't have this
resource to turn to. Some of of will gladly listen.
MTM
Donal O'Sullivan
mcau...@primenet.com wrote:
: Donal: The premature press release that a "Roman Fort" had
: been discovered on the east coast was later retracted. I
: believe I read that in the Irish Times. (On the WEB!)
:
: It may be that only a few Roman artifacts were found - which
: might only show that there was some trade across the seas
: with Ireland. Which is not surprising, since Irish (Co. Wicklow)
: gold was found in the pyramids of Egypt!
:
: Gerry
Well, that puts paid to my Doctorate. I wonder why the Sunday Times,
England, gave the story so much credence? I remember reading an
article, again with the same coverage - diagrams and drawings and more or
less full page coverage, from the same newspaper, about a Viking
settlement on an island of some river in Ireland.
What struck me about the article was that it showed accomodation for what
that paper called "Irish slaves" and they repeated the expression
elsewhere in the article. Yet there was no evidence provided that these
'slaves' were Irish and I cannot remember what evidence they produced
that they were 'slaves' at all.
Ordinary common sense would suggest that if they were 'slaves', they
would not be Irish because they would escape too easily. The American
Indians did not make good 'slaves' in their own country. In all
probability they were hostages and would have been treated with respect.
Donal
Regarding Irish gold in Egypt, our view of the world is much influenced
by the Marcator projection - the map of the world we are familiar with -
showing a flat earth. If you look at the northern hemishphere from a
polar projection, you see a different relationship between the British
Isles, Scandanavia, North America etc. A piece of ancient pottery was
found in north Canada which was not of Indian design. Was it Viking?
Was it Celtic? No. It was Chinese!
mcau...@primenet.com
Donal: I posted only what I read in the Irish Times. I have no expertise
in the matter.
About the Irish gold found in the pyramids, I read that in a book on
metallurgy many years ago, but I couldn't put my hand on it now.
Are you very serious about thinking this was really a Roman fort in
Ireland? I read that some Belfast professor "jumped the gun" on
the matter, and had to retract his newsworthy claim.
Gerry
Donal O'Sullivan
.ie> <4ois29$j...@nnrp1.news.primenet.com>:
Distribution:
mcau...@primenet.com wrote:
: Donal: I posted only what I read in the Irish Times. I have no expertise
: in the matter.
:
: About the Irish gold found in the pyramids, I read that in a book on
: metallurgy many years ago, but I couldn't put my hand on it now.
:
: Are you very serious about thinking this was really a Roman fort in
: Ireland? I read that some Belfast professor "jumped the gun" on
: the matter, and had to retract his newsworthy claim.
:
: Gerry
No, I was just thinking out loud about why I believed it and maybe how
'self image' can be imposed by others - by a map of the world, by an
English newspaper etc. I have neither the ambition nor ability for a
Doctorate in History or Rubbish Heaps (archaeology). Just said in fun
and I hope the worthy professor has a sense of humour.
Donal
Donal O'Sullivan
M. T. McGeough (mtm...@concentric.net) wrote:
: Donal,
:
: Please speak what you know. There will be a time when we don't have this
: resource to turn to. Some of of will gladly listen.
:
: MTM
There were hundreds of us, packed on a steam train, heading west
out of Dublin. We were all kids, I was about eight or nine. I
can't remember. I had been told that I had won an army
scholarship for speaking Irish. I didn't believe that. I knew the
army and they look after their own. They pull strings. I knew my
mother was sick and I had gotten out of hospital myself only a
year ago. I was fit and healthy again and knew enough to know how
to get out of the way. I was not troubled by any deep fear of
others. But scholarship boy I was not. My life was my own and it
was 1952.
When we arrived in Galway we were labeled into small busses in
groups of thirty or so and we headed west again. It began to get
dark. Now and again the bus would stop and some of the labels
would be taken off. As the numbers got smaller, we began to eye
each other. Then there were three of us left. We all saw that we
were the youngests and we kept our distance from each other. It
was dark.
Then the bus stopped again and the bus driver was very nice to us
and treated us as if we were his childern and he was saying
goodbye. We got out and the bus left.
There was a man, a woman and a donkey. The woman was about
eighteen and the man was about thirty. I had sisters the woman's
age and I had no problem with her. I had brothers the man's age
but he was odd. He told us what to do and didn't wait to see if
we agreed or not. He wasn't a bully. He told us to get on the
donkey's back because it was a sli/ fada and none of us would go
near that ferocious beast. The two of them picked up our small
belongings and walked on ahead leaving us in the company, and as
it turned out, the care, of the donkey.
Forgive me for saying this, but that bloody ferocious beast was a
satient being. I remember his or her enormous face coming out of
the dark and presenting itself to mine, delighted to see me. We
were all as tired as warm jelly and if we strayed behind or
walked into the ditch, he or she, the donkey, would come and place
nostrels into our private parts or the back of our neck. We
learned to stick together.
It was a much longer walk than detail I remember but we began to
approach an enormous and superhuman being in the far distance. It
sighed and was. Then there was a bunch of stones to the left and
a light coming out of one of the holes. We all followed man and
woman and I remember we went down into the house. There was a
fire on the ground and a chimney above it. The man and women had
no other childern and we, the childern, shagged, went to bed. I
have never thanked the donkey for his or her good care, but I do
it now.
May I continue with this story?
Donal.
--
Donal O'Sullivan
Donal O'Sullivan (osul...@iol.ie) wrote:
: M. T. McGeough (mtm...@concentric.net) wrote:
: : Donal,
: :
: : Please speak what you know. There will be a time when we don't have this
: : resource to turn to. Some of of will gladly listen.
: :
: : MTM
: :
:
The strange man was gone when we woke up in the morning but the
woman was still there. She delighted over us and made us tea and
eggs and bread. We looked outside and it was wet and windy but we
went out anyway. We were all alone at the edge of the sea. There
was no road to be seen but there were pathways in most every
direction. There were stone rubble walls everywhere and very
small fields. There were no other houses to be seen anywhere.
The house we lived in was like none other I had ever seen before
or since. There was only one door, the front door, and when you
opened it, you looked down into a large room with a turf fire.
About one quarter of the house seemed to be below ground and
parts of the walls were boulders of stone which had been there
before the house was built.
To the right of the door, there was a large boulder about five
feet high, which had been hewen square to allow for for the door.
It was plain stone, unlike the other houses I saw later which
were white washed or had a blue colour. This house was unusually
warm and cosy and did not seem to be affected by the wind,
although we faced the Atlantic. It was thatched, like the other
houses, many miles away.
There was a very big event around mid morning. The man arrived
back. We were all inside the house and he came in carrying a flat
wickerwork basket about two and a half feet wide and a ten inch
wall all around. The Bean an ti (woman of the house) made a great
fuss of the Fear an ti (man of the house) and she indicated to us
that we should do likewise. He was treated like a hero and he
seemed to know it. I can't remember what language we spoke but
much verbal language seemed unnecessary. The basket was full of
fish and he seemed to present it to the Bean an ti like a gift.
Hopping around in the basket was a huge crab, full of fight and
life. The woman pointed at the crab and indicated that the man
wanted us to have it. None of us had seen a crab before. There
was no television then and the only representation of a crab I
had ever seen had been in a schoolbook and that had been of a
small crab wearing a boater hat, a blazer with vertical stripes
and was doing a tap dance. This guy was nothing like that. He was
looking for fight.
We did not know the meaning of the offer and for all we knew, we
might have thought that we were being asked to remove the
dangerous creature from the house. There was a scuffle as we
backed away and tried to push one of our number to the front. The
other two kids were from Dublin and I think I had been boasting
that morning that I was from the army. Oh, to hell with it. I took
one step forward.
I remember to this day, her beautiful slender hand as she caught
the crab by one of the back legs, threw it into the air, were it
did a somersault, and landed slap on its back on the fire. It
wriggled a couple of seconds and died. I fell in love, then, with
that beautiful young woman.
She picked up a stick and pushed the crab to the side of the
fire, and, danger over, we all looked into the basket. It was
full of fish. All kinds of fish, even little small ones. There
were no mackerel; a fish I was to become familiar with later. We
all helped with gutting and cleaning and prepared for the feast.
When a lot of them were cooked and we were all ready, the woman
pointed at the crab and looked at the man. He gave the slightest
of nods and she indicated to me that I should eat it. Eat it?!
I et it and it was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted.
Flushed with full belly, safety and self satisfaction I addressed
them both, in Irish, as I had been told to do.
I said,
"Dia agaibh..."
And so began my education.
Cynthia Durham
Donal, please forgive my interruption, but I find your story fascinating.
Please, please continue!!!
:)
Cindy
Donal O'Sullivan
Cynthia Durham (cynthia...@nashville.com) wrote:
:
: Cindy
They both stared at me.
I had been well taught before I went west, as to the correct,
formal and complimentary Irish phrases to use, so I knew I was
right. But after such a sumptuous meal, perhaps something more
elaborate was called for; so I gestured towards the remainder of
the feast and my two companions from Dublin.
"Dia 's Muire 'gaibh" , I said.
I find it hard to explain now, but I spent one or two months in
that house, and I can remember very little detail. The following
year, I won another scholarship and lived with a family about
twelve miles to the east and I 'remember' almost everything.
A fact is something that is abstracted from background and if we
all share or know the background, it is easy to identify the
facts. What I learned in that house, on the shore, was a totally
new background.
Take, for instance, a God we are all familiar with. There is a
statue to Him in almost every town, village, city and house. He
regulates our lives and our very identity is demonstrated in
relation to Him.
There was no clock in the house, nor anything as banal as a
radio. The man would get up at any time, even at night and
disappear into the dark. We, the children, might not see him
again until days later.
I got up very early one morning and followed him when he went
out. I kept a very discreet distance. He was not a man to presume
familiarity with. His manhood was his and our childhood was ours.
The shore in front of the house was not beach nor shingle, but
was mostly solid rock, acres of it. I lost him. Later, I saw out
to sea, in the very far distance, a head and shoulders pop up out
of the waves and disappear again. And it happened again.
I can remember eating eggs but I can remember no chickens. I
remember milk and butter but no cows. I cannot remember seeing
the donkey again, but there must have been more than one. The
turf fire was always burning but I cannot remember helping with
the turf. We were children and we were not used.
The Bean on ti took me for a long walk one day. I knew it was
important and I thought it was the walk. We were of one body with
the earth and I thought I understood.
Then we came to a tree.
Donal
--
Donal O'Sullivan
:
The tree was about twenty or thirty feet high and it was old. It
was in a sheltered spot maybe a mile inland. There was a peaceful
atmosphere.
The woman began to address the tree and introduced me. She said
who I was, where I came from and what I was doing here. The tone
was not at all flattering of me and I got the impression that I
might not be worthy of the honour.
I recognised the tree as an old old woman and I felt her
presence and the Bean an ti took me back to the house. I felt
more grown up and more relaxed.
And that is the end of my story because I can remember no more.
The following year, I lived with another Gaelic speaking family
about five miles east of the town of Spiddal in County Galway in
a place called Salahoona. They had a clock and they knew the
times of the busses into town. There were many other white washed
cottages around. I went back there a few years ago and all those
cottages were gone. I could find nobody who ever heard of
Salahoona. There were many bungalows of various design scattered
over the flat landscape by the sea and it looked, for all the
world, like a three dimensional sales catalog of bungalows, as one
might see in a well to do architect's office.
My time living in Salahoona were halcyon days. The Bean an ti had
grown up children, many donkeys and a few acres of good bog a
mile or two north. They were a wealthy and modern family.
There was a coppice of what must have been Osier Willow,
chickens, a couple of cows and out houses. The Fear an ti was the
local carpenter and he had a workshop next to the house. He used
to carve tables, chairs and other things from local wood. They
made butter in a wooden churn which was cylindrical, four feet
high, a foot wide at the base and about ten inches at the top.
There was a hole in the lid and through it protruded a pole like a
sweeping brush handle. Inside the churn, the pole was attached to
a flat wooden disk. You made butter by lifting the pole and
pounding it down on the milk inside.
I showed off my manly strength, twice, but could only manage about
five strokes each time. The teenage girls of the family could
pound away without getting tired and even had the spare breath to
laugh at me while they were doing it. Male and female roles were
very sharply defined but one would be lacking a sense of humour,
or nuts, to suggest that one was the lesser.
I did go to a flat place north, in the half dark, between the
houses and the bog, and, yes, it was a crossroads, where a man
played a fiddle and people danced. I found the smell of
adrenaline intimidating, where, if I had been more sexually
mature, I might have found it stimulating.
Men had no authority over us children, at all. They would tell us
what to do alright but it was as information, and if we ignored
it, we might suffer the consequences but no wrath of the Great
Landlord in the Sky would descend upon us. The women did not
admonish us either, but the prospect of fresh mackerel, home made
butter, organic potatoes and cool buttermilk would compromise our
flight of fancy and tempting stupidity. Like China, food ruled.
The one place the men asserted there absolute authority was the
sea. They would not let us go near a currach at all. We used
every stratagem, as sly, quick minded, pre adolescents, to get
into a currach. But they saw us coming every time.
Women were allowed, in emergency, or necessity, to get into a
currach; but they sat in the middle of the boat and took no part.
It probably takes a male to trust that unforgiving mistress, the
sea, and when I think of the other Fear on ti, going out alone in
a currach, in bad weather, to bring fish back home to us, then I
understand the Bean an ti, whom I loved, showing unfeigned joy at
his return.
Yes, I should have gone back to my family. It was a four hour
journey there, making it eight hours at the least and my need for
food over-ruled my nobility. I did ask about Bri/d and the places
of honour around, in the wet windy days when we were all beside
the fire sorting out what was right. And the Bean an ti laughed
and the old men looked sideways at me. They were old
superstitions and they told ghost stories; banshees, fairy forts;
stories to frighten children with. But I noticed that none of
them would go near a recognised old woman tree, nor dare to touch
a branch.
They were burdened with the fear, as one would have, of another one
had betrayed.
Agus se/ sin mo sce/il.
Donal.
That is the end of my story and if anyone wants to follow it up, you must
meet me in Clare. And you must buy me many pints and I may sing.
La/ Fe/ile Bri/d.
Donal O'Sullivan
Well?
Some parts of this story, of neccessity, were written when I was pissed.
Salhoona was five miles west of Spiddal, not east, and the invitation to
meet me in St. Louis or Clare was said in jest.
If there had been takers, I would have changed places with my alter ego,
Wally Dalton, a muscian, well worth meeting and a Bri/d spirit. Swapped
names, I mean.
I like the story, now that I have read it, and maybe think that if it was
re-written I might find a publisher. Does anyone know of a magazine
where such story might be published?
'West of Eden'? or can someone give it a title?
Donal
Donal O'Sullivan
Donal O'Sullivan (osul...@iol.ie) wrote:
THE YELLOWHAMMER
I am blest, in my middle year; with doctor, lawyer, artist and friend.
Doctor, here is my diagnosis.
Lawyer, I appeal your better nature.
Artist, "What is it?"
Represent.
My dog, my kith and kine, I will tell you;
"Mine!"
Donal
--
Donal O'Sullivan
Donal O'Sullivan (osul...@iol.ie) wrote:
An Sceil Ta Deanta
"Eirim ar maidin, cuirim mo cuid eadai orm"
"I get up in the morning, I put on my clothes."
Sister Agusta had finished her seven steps towards the window.
She looked out and paced herself back. She was going to say it
again.
"Eirim ar maidin, cuirim mo cuid eadai orm"
"I get up in the morning, I put on my clothes."
Everyone knew she wasn't teaching us Irish. She was teaching us
religion, even Catriona Sheedy knew that. We must dedicate our
life to Christ from the moment we get up in the morning, whatever
our station, however humble or exalted. I looked at the clock. It
was still ten past eleven.
Gran says that Sister Augusta became a nun because she couldn't
think of anything better to do. Granny Ella that is, not granny
Rose, mum's mother. Granny Ella is a mean old, spiteful woman who
thinks she is a Protestant. They are very patient with her in St.
Bridget's Home. They are very nice to her really.
Sister Augusta banged her stick on the side of the blackboard.
"Pay attention!"
"Bang, crack, thump." It was like somebody trying to break down
the door.
We all sat up and looked. All except Imelda O'Reilly, who
stayed writing. Sister Augusta thought she was taking notes. We
all knew that she was writing in her diary. Imelda O'Reilly put
the top back on her pen, clenched her hands together and looked
at Sister Augusta like she was saying her prayers.
Sister Agusta took English, Irish, History and Geography. We
all liked her and she was busy. We had a chat.
On the blackboard was a drawing of the Earth revolving around
the sun, showing the four seasons. It was done in coloured chalk
and it must have taken her ages. There was also a little diagram
which showed the dilution of light over a curved surface. Sister
Augusta called it the 'Miracle of the Seasons'. Imelda O'Reilly
began to take notes.
Gran says that Sister Augusta's family were the only ones from
Ballybrogan to survive the famine. She used to expect us to
shiver when she said 'Ballybrogan' like it was Belsen or Auswitch
or something. But how could she know? She wasn't alive during the
famine anyway. She wouldn't let us put the light on in the
kitchen.
Once she introduced Imelda O'Reilly to a tree down the Boggy
Road and that night she thought that Imelda O'Reilly was her
mother. We could see her in the kitchen holding Imelda's hand and
crying. Her face was all wet from the tears and there was spit
running down her chin. That was before she was accepted into St.
Bridget's.
When they let her out on Holy Days, she makes all the girls from
Salahoona sit down and talk to her in the kitchen. She tells the
same story every time like it is her party piece and it is
always about the famine. I nearly know it by heart now.
She used to try and talk Irish but she could only babble as
she had never gone to school. Mum said we should pity her because
she was senile but when I tried to let her know that I pitied
her, she got very angry and frightened me so I don't think she is
entitled to any pity from me.
Sister Augusta changed her tone. She had finished the
explanation of the seasons, something about an elliptical orbit
and the axis of rotation being at an angle to the plain of the
ellipse, something like that, I think it was anyway. She turned
to the class and began to look like Judy Garland singing 'Over
the Rainbow' at Christmas. She was going to tell us the 'Face of
God' speech.
"The face of God is a Grand Father clock." said Imelda
O'Reilly.
We all turned and looked at her. She was still writing. We
looked at Sister Augusta. She was still talking, and if we hadn't
looked at Imelda O'Reilly I don't think she would have noticed
anything.
Sister Augusta stopped talking. She looked around and her eyes
fixed on Imelda O'Reilly.
"Have you taken leave of your senses, child?"
Anyone who could call Imelda O'Reilly a 'child' would need
their head examined. She had lovely black hair which curled
around her head and shoulders and her dark blue eyes rested easy
when she looked at you. She had a figure that could stop the
traffic. She went out with men. Joe McMahon was twenty. Once,
when we were trying to get into the Paradiso Club, Imelda
O'Reilly walked past us all and the doorman left us outside while
he opened the inner door for her. She didn't even pay. Her father
was teaching her to drive.
"No, I haven't Sister." said Imelda O'Reilly and she began to
put her diary into the attache case along with her pen and copy
books.
"Show me that book!" said Sister Augusta and held out her hand.
"No, I will not" said Imelda O'Reilly, "it's private." She
zipped the attache case and stood up.
We looked at her and then at Sister Augusta. Sister Augusta was
getting very red.
"You will leave my class and not come back until you have said
an Act of Contrition."
Imelda O'Reilly walked towards the door, but before she reached
it, she turned around and said:
"Well, good luck Sister."
in the easy way that she had.
Sister Augusta nearly exploded and ran down after her. She
grabbed her hair. What happened next I can't remember for sure
because of the way the blood spurted from Sister Augusta's arm.
I know that Sister Augusta pushed Imelda O'Reilly's face and I
saw Imelda O'Reilly spit something on the floor between them.
Emer O'Callaghan ran into the next class.
"Sister Augusta is pumping blood! Sister Augusta is pumping blood!"
I forgot about Imelda O'Reilly in all the excitement.
Sister Augusta was off sick for a whole month and when she came
back she had bought a watch. It was bigger than a man's and had a
face of speckled marble. We all wanted one but she wouldn't tell
us where she got it. It is beautiful and her eyes light up
whenever she looks at it. Sometimes you can see a small scar
underneath.
Imelda O'Reilly went to London. Everybody says she was pregnant
but I don't believe that.
Donal
Donal O'Sullivan
Donal O'Sullivan (osul...@iol.ie) wrote:
The Way of the River
Ernest J. Brody, Administrative Officer, Department of Agriculture
(Rtd.), made his appearance on the river walkway of the Lee Fields. He
reached the slip-way building works, looked around and became agitated. He
examined some river weeds with his walking cane, stopped himself abruptly
and stood looking into the river. The water reflected the bare December
trees, the old mental home on the opposite bank and his own shadow in
waves of distortion, until all images became as one in an ever changing
and manic dance. He stooped forwards slowly as if to dive.
"Go ahead and jump." said a hollow voice. Ernest whirled round
but there was nobody there and in his surprise, he slipped and
almost fell. The head of Jim Denehan appeared out of the ground,
framed by a deep square hole.
"The very place for you." said Ernest, recovering his dignity
immediately. He straightened up, walked to the nearest public
bench, put his walking cane flat on the seat, sat down and
flapped open a copy of the Cork Examiner.
Jim Denehan got out of his construction, looked at it from
various angles and began to measure it with plumb line and
tape.
"Do you know how difficult it is to get something perfectly
square?"
"It's easy on paper; but in the real world",
he glanced at Ernest,
"in the real world";
he wiped his hands on a rag,
"in the real world, it's not that easy at all."
He looked at his friend directly. Ernest's shoes were scuffed and
his usually perfectly creased trousers were baggy.
With some exasperation, Ernest stopped perusing the headlines.
"I have a job for you" he said, with reluctant generosity, "you
may bury Rosanna in that.." he paused and raised his nose,
"hole."
"That 'hole' as you call it" began Jim, checking measurements
again, "is the base for the new slip-way lighting system, and if
your wife wants to be buried here, she can apply through the
usual channels."
He covered the construction carefully with a sheet of
plywood and tidied his tools. He arched his back and looked
around for the first time. Ernest opened the paper and put on his
spectacles. Jim put his tools in a bag and approached the bench.
"Michael O'Brien mortus est" said Ernest.
"What? Mike? Fuck off. Where? Let me see." He picked up
Ernest's cane, Ernest gripped hold of it, there was a tussle. Jim
let go. Ernest fixed it between his knees. Jim sat down.
"..beloved husband of Marie", Ernest entoned, "ha!" Jim
intervened. "deeply regretted by his loving son Diarmuid and
daughter Irene". "For fuck's sake..." began Jim." Ernest raised
his voice. "May he rest in peace. Removal today, Thursday, from
the Bon Securers Hospital to St. Bridget's Church.."
"Mike?" said Jim.
"Michael." said Ernest.
They stared in opposite directions.
Ernest J. Brody could play clarinet and recite the Saxon
sagas in a way that raised the hair on Jim's back. He knew
Sanskrit, German, Greek and and he could mimic any creature
furred or feathered. He pocketed his spectacles thoughtfully.
"I remember tinkin'" said Ernest, in Mike's voice. "I remember
tinkin'" he scratched his head like a chimpanzee. "I remember
tinkin', that before I get too drunk, I must put my trousers in
a safe place."
He narrowed his nostrils and became Marie. "I will be obliged,
Mr. Nolan, when you and your friends transport yourselves out of
my house."
"Beam me up Scotty" pleaded Jim and their shoulders touched.
The river went by.
"You have a bottle of whiskey of mine." said Jim, recovering
first, "and I will have it".
Ernest's cuffs were dirty and it was well past obvious to Jim's
detailed eye that he had slept in his clothes. Ernest ignored
him.
"Dis job den..." said Jim yawning. Ernest continued to be at
one with the river.
Jim got up and began to admire his work but glanced at his
friend. He filled his lungs.
"One of the lesser known facts of the twentieth century" , he
began, as if addressing a promising apprentice, "is that the
coefficient of expansion of concrete and steel are equal." He
paused to let his pupil catch up.
"This means that you can re-enforce the compressive strength of
concrete with the tensile strength of steel." Ernest raised an
index finger but Jim interrupted him.
"..and if you put a body of water in the middle of a mass of
concrete; they will part company after the first freezing, not to
mention the problem of persuading Rosanna.."
"She is already cold" said Ernest, recovering his superior tone
"..despatched by my own hand", he paused, "with the garden spade."
"Yeah." said Jim "If it's the central heating again, I have
explained to you and Rosanna every winter since you got it, that
the number of radiators you can heat depends on the size of the
fire. This simple fact seems to have escaped the two of you, but
never mind, I will explain it again over bottle of whiskey -
which I bloody well hope you have in stock."
He looked sharply at his friend.
Ernest got up, folded his paper, and with the same movement put
it under his left arm. He tested his walking cane with a flick
and strode off down the path. Jim picked up his tool bag and
followed him.
The old mental home on the river Lee is not listed as one of
the wonders of the world; but it might have been. A single
building of stone covering about twenty acres, rises four or five
stories above a steep hill on the north bank of the river. Around
it, like fungal growths of a related genera, rise similar
attempts in red brick, but of a lower and later budget.
Set in a valley or cosseted by trees and countryside, it might
appear interesting or even inviting; but it is stark, dominating
and set triumphant against the north sky, the very absence of
walks or gardens betraying its custodial intent. It is now
deserted and stands like a monument to the hollow certainties of
the nineteenth century. This conundrum marks the end of Sundays
Well Road, which, after negotiating the sewage works and water
treatment plant of the former lunatic asylum, rises up the hill to
escape west and become the Lee Road heading towards Inchageela
and the beautiful Lee Valley.
At the end of the Sundays Well Road, just before the bridge,
stands a row of terraced houses; which, in the early part of the
century, might have accommodated a servant or two in the attic.
It is here that Ernest's doting parents cleared for him his first
step into the adult world, with the wedding present of a house,
and, it is here that Ernest remained. His three children grew up,
intelligent, well educated, emotionally secure and took off as
soon as they could fly. The houses around changed their character
and became flats for students, transients and terminals. Box
windows popped out from roofs and box extensions were slapped on,
as planning permission allowed and slightly more. Arithmetic
triumphed over art.
Ernest's house, which had remained the native grey of an
insistent respectability, was now cowered between its new, brash
and hedonistic neighbours.
Ernest J. Brody and Jim Denehan did not walk the road together.
Whenever they had tried it, and they had tried it, they arrived
at their destination as enemies. Ernest walked ahead as a man of
importance and the many glances he received on the way confirmed
his presumption. Jim's dirty clothes and ambling way aroused no
interest at all. He would look around as if seeing the world for
the first time and cross the road with ease, often passing
Ernest, as he stood, waiting imperiously for the traffic to stop.
They reached Ernest's house on the Sunday's Well Road, as
usual, side by side. Jim scanned the house for any new structural
defect but found none.
But there was something odd.
All the windows were closed shut and all the lights were on. He
took the keys from Ernest's fumbling hands, opened the lock and
pushed the door. It stopped after a few inches and Jim found a
fur coat blocking his progress. He pushed harder till a rush of
foul air caught his breath. He forced his way in.
In the living room, Rosanna sat in her armchair. Beside her was
a plate of digestive biscuits, and beside that, a cup fallen
sideways on a saucer. The tea had dried and Jim calculated that
it it had been there for several days.
Around Rosanna there was a single footprint were somebody had
stood on a piece of buttered toast, a saucepan had boiled over in
the kitchen and had been left where it was. Rosanna was quite
dead. Jim did not slacken his pace and went to the drinks cabinet
where he removed a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, went over
to the window and opened it, muttering "For fucks sake..", poured
Ernest a near full glass, handed it to him, waited until he took
it, and then sat on the sofa.
He poured himself a glass, drank it, poured another and put the
bottle on the table between himself and Ernest.
"God, it's been a long day." he said, wiping his face with the
palm of his hand; behind which, he blew out his cheeks and began
to think how he was going to get his friend to cry.
Donal
Donal O'Sullivan
I am running. For election as Convenor of the Cork Artists Direction
Committeee. I put myself forward as a writer and a poet. If anyone
reading this would like to see me elected to such an august post, please
send a comment. Such invitation includes all the people I have slagged.
You will be quoted.
We need you now.
Donal
--
Donal O'Sullivan
I received two positive and private e-mail responses to this careless
posting. Yes, I was pissed when I wrote it. The comment.
The election is already over. I didn't make the ballot paper. The
notice, inviting nominations, was dated June 17, posted June 18 and
received by me on June 21. The closing date for nominations was.. June 21.
I received the ballot paper on Friday last, with an invitation to attend
a plenary meeting on Monday next. Should I go? There are no standing
orders at meetings and the accounts have never been published in writing.
I had thought that there were public funds involved. but I received a
phone call from someone who told me directly that there were no public
funds in the accounts. (Why not?)
Any comments? I might slag now and then with a little venom, but mostly
for fun, but what we all agree on, in these newsgroups, is freesom of
expression. Tell me what mistakes I am making on this issue.
Donal
Donal O'Sullivan
For a start; what would a poet be doing running for election anyway.
Please ignore all the crap I have written on this subject. I have better
things to do with my time. I bought seven tins of paint for seven
pounds in a secondhand shop - Georges Quay, Cork, Ireland. They are
worth 130 pounds. Today I bought two fenders and three other bits for
six pounds; worth 60 pounds.
A boat awaits my gentle hand,
And the sea calls softer than the crowd.
Donal
--
Rose Vignoles
> The Irish word for "Good Day" or "Hello" is "Dia dhuit" which means,
> literally, "God with you". The reply, "Dia's Muire dhuit" means "God &
> Mary with you".
> Irish culture & the Gaelic language pre-date the island's conversion to
> Christianity by many years. What Gaelic words were used for greetings in
> pre-Christian times?
> Thank you for any info.
Totally valid question. I am interested too. In some part of Tibet the greeting is "the summer sun melts the snow". I find that fascinating.