Forging an Identity Through Literature and Art: Early Deane

 Early Deane: Essays on Irish Literature, Culture, and Politics by Seamus Deane; edited by Maurice Fitzpatrick

Early Deane book cover

Author, poet, and director Seamus Deane

Go raibh maith agat (an Irish Thank You) to Cambridge University Press and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of Early Deane: Essays on Irish Literature, Culture and Politics by Seamus Deane, edited by Maurice Fitzpatrick. This was an exciting collection to find and read. I was lucky enough to take a few Irish Literature classes in college and actually read Deane’s book Reading in the Dark. For whatever reason, I don’t remember reading any of his criticism. Nevertheless, this collection of his writings from the 1960s through the early 1980s is well organized thematically, focusing on topics and issues like Irish intellectuals and politics, Irish imagination, Irish drama, and important, but sometimes overlooked Irish writers who helped to forge the idea of an Irish nationality and identity. Although I was not familiar with all of the writers that Deane discusses throughout the book, I was familiar with a number of the authors, poets, plays, and novels, and many of the themes and ideas about Irish identity, politics, art, creativity, and the struggle against colonialism were themes and issues explored in the courses I took. This book is definitely an academic text, and not one for casual readers. Deane was not only a poet and writer, but a serious student of Irish history and literature, using his knowledge and learning, as well as his spirit and desire for a true Irish identity, to synthesize the great history of Irish art and literature, often to refute notions and stereotypes that sought to justify the colonization of Ireland.

Deane’s writing is informative and imaginative, as he looks backward to imagine a future Ireland that is not necessarily nostalgic, but rather awakening to understand the true legacy of its language and history that was nearly erased through colonization. Furthermore, Deane was from Northern Ireland, so his experience under British rule and the kind of discrimination and inequality he experienced only heightened his calls for a true Irish identity and nation. In fact, the idea of tension and conflict, not just violence, but a kind of dichotomy and opposition, are found throughout his essays, offering insight into what he sometimes refers to as the psychology of the Irish under British rule, where their history, language, and culture were systematically erased only to have English and British history imposed on them. As Deane notes throughout analyses of Irish writers like Yeats, Synge, Beckett, and O’Casey, that kind of experience creates a divided psyche and identity that is never completely assured of who it is, and may be best represented in the character of Owen in Translations, who needs a job, but ultimately ends up aiding in the destruction of his own culture, history, language, and community through his work with the British. Deane became close with Friel, becoming a director in his Field Day Theater Company in Derry, along with the actor Stephen Rea, who also wrote a wonderful introduction for this collection. The last few essays are actually introductions by Deane about Friel’s work, which plays an important part in helping to provide examples of both the conflicts and the artistry that Deane emphasizes are so integral to understanding the Irish. I also appreciated Deane’s writing about Yeats and other contemporaries like Lady Gregory who sought to excavate Irish mythology and folklore, not necessarily to romanticize the past, but rather to reinvigorate an Irish identity and imagine a new future for Ireland as it forged a new nation after the revolution. Deane’s analysis and evaluation of these important Irish artists and writers also acknowledged his call to the necessity of art, myth, and literature in shaping a unique national identity free from the cultural imperialism that colonialism imposes on its subjects. Also important throughout the early part of this collection is Deane’s call for an Irish intelligentsia, which he deems as what I would imagine Du Bois imagined as like the talented tenth, a group of highly educated and skilled writers, artists, and theorists who guide the culture towards a brighter future. As Deane notes, Irish offered little for its artists, writers, and thinkers to remain while England and continental Europe provided more opportunities and praise. Nevertheless, Deane may not have realized how he and his peers were able to contribute to this kind of Irish intelligentsia that helped to re-imagine Ireland through art, poetry, drama, and literature.    

Although this is a book about much more than Irish literature, it was a little surprising to not see a whole lot about James Joyce in this book. Many of the conflicts, oppositions and themes that Joyce addressed in his works, especially the paralysis and spiritual death that Ireland offered, appear throughout Deane’s criticism, noting how prevalent these ideas were in other writers’ works. Furthermore, Deane’s focus on the imposed history and the loss of authentic Irish history seems to echo Stephen Deadalus’s famous lines “History is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.” However, with Deane’s writing, we see glimmers of hope and a sliver of morning sunlight slipping through the shades, offering readers and thinkers ideas about how Ireland was seeking its own identity throughout the periods of colonialism (and in some ways, it still is). Deane’s commitment to art and literature as a means of upliftment and cultural identity are important reminders as well. As I was reading this collection, I was struck by its relevance to current issues in the US but also reassured by the power of great art to challenge injustice, inequality, and violence. This is a great collection for those who are interested in Irish literature or for those who are teaching courses on Irish literature. I wish that I had a collection like this when I was in college because it would have provided me with some different insights into the Irish imagination and its role in forging an Irish identity. Highly recommended! 

Stiff Little Fingers' Inflammable Material- 33 1/3

 Stiff Little Fingers' Inflammable Material by Kevin C. Dunn (33 1/3)

Stiff Little Fingers' Inflammable Material book cover

Author and scholar Kevin C. Dunn

Many thanks to Bloomsbury Academic and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of Kevin C. Dunn’s addition to the 33 1/3 series focused on Stiff Little Fingers’ Inflammable Material. I first learned about Stiff Little Fingers from a Rhino Records 70s Punk compilation titled No Thanks! “Suspect Device” and “Alternative Ulster” were their contributions, and they are both some of the hardest, fiercest songs on that compilation. There are only a few bands with multiple songs on the comp, so I recognized that their music was important, but I never picked up this album. I was also surprised to learn that they were from Northern Ireland, since most of the bands were either from England or the US. I don’t remember learning too much more about them, so I was excited to find this 33 1/3 volume on their debut album. While the band produced several other albums over the course of a more than 20 years-long career (with various line-ups), nothing matched the success of their first album. Dunn’s book details the context within which the band formed and developed their sound, as well as how the Troubles and sectarian violence of 1970s Northern Ireland (specifically Belfast) shaped the punk movement, and more importantly how punk rock enabled the youth of Belfast to establish an alternative to the sectarian violence, and provided an identity that wasn’t solely defined by religion or nationality. As Dunn illustrates, 1970s Belfast not only was rife with violence and the threat of bombings, but it was also a time of high unemployment and limited opportunities for young men. Playing music in a band was one of those ways to find a way out of the violence and enjoy youth. Interestingly enough, the band started off as a pub rock type band, playing a lot of covers of heavy music like Deep Purple. This might have been the biggest shock of the entire book, because whenever I’ve listened to “Suspect Device,” I didn’t get the sense that this song was by a cover band. Nevertheless, Dunn’s research delves into the transformation and how the band shifted their sound, writing a song that contained a double meaning of a topical issue. As Dunn analyzes the lyrics, he notes that the term “Suspect Device” wasn’t just a potential explosive, but also served as a metaphor for the bored and jobless youths who posed a danger without something to do. In fact, I was surprised to see how many of their songs are the kind of punk songs about boredom and aimless youth. Dunn’s book and analysis of the album’s contents help to establish that theme of the album but also shows how the punk rock community brought together young people and gave them something to do and organize around. He also notes how the album compares with some of the other classic punk albums that were released shortly before Inflammable Material.

It was interesting to learn more about the band as well, and how they ended up being the first album released on Rough Trade Records, a classic independent British label that started as a record store. Releasing an album on Rough Trade enabled Stiff Little Fingers to have distribution in England, not just in Northern Ireland. Although the band eventually moved to England and signed with another major record label for their subsequent albums, it was interesting to learn more about how this album was produced and its importance to British punk rock. Dunn also provides useful historical and social context to understand the Troubles, both before and after the album was released. Although Inflammable Material didn’t do much for peace, Dunn frames the larger context of the punk rock movement in Belfast as being a significant influence in rejecting the either/or dichotomies of the Troubles and providing a new community that sought to focus on improving conditions for the working class and artists in Belfast. While the band danced around the politics of The Troubles and used imagery associated with the Troubles, their music ultimately reengaged other bands in Norther Ireland signaling that it was relatively safe to play after the Miami Showband killings in 1975. Dunn goes on to provide some insight into the greater Belfast punk scene, and the “punkwashing” that happened in Belfast in the early 2000s, that celebrates the role of music in creating a renewed Belfast. I really enjoyed this book, and it represents so much of what is great about the 33 1/3 books. It examines a significant album, and doesn’t just look at its lyrical or musical content, but also examines the socio-historical and political influences that helped to shape this album. Furthermore, it places the album in a larger context to demonstrate its significance in creating an “Alternative Ulster,” and reshaping the greater Belfast community to reject the sectarianism that divided much of the city and the nation for so many years. Highly recommended! 

Living the Irish Wheel of the Year by Donald Quill

 Living the Irish Wheel of the Year: A Guide for Practicing Pagans by Donald Quill

Living the Irish Wheel of the Year book cover

Author Donald Quill

Many thanks to Forgotten Rites Publishing and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of Donald Quill’s thoughtful book Living the Irish Wheel of the Year: A Guide for Practicing Pagans. I’m not a practicing pagan, but I found the title eye-catching. I am of Irish ancestry, and I loved reading about Irish mythology, history, and culture, so I was intrigued by this book since it sounded like it took a look at a sometimes overlooked aspect of Irish culture- the pre-Christian traditions of the land that shaped a lot of the mythology and beliefs, and in some ways helped to for a syncretic version of Catholicism that still persists today. Quill’s has written a detailed and considerate guide and reference that navigates readers and those curious to reconnect with their surroundings. Quill refers to the Wheel of the Year as a “rhythm that pulses through the land, the aur, and the blood of those who remember.” As I was reading this guide, I could better understand that to engage with this wheel of the year is to think about time differently, not quite linearly, but rather as more cyclical, or as Quill says, like a “sacred spiral.” While reading this guide, I was thinking a lot about Chelsey Luger and Thosh Collins’ book The Seven Circles: Indigenous Teaching for Living Well. Both books re-examine traditional and indigenous ways as a means of reconnecting with the land and as a result bringing greater peace and understanding to ourselves. After reading this book and considering Quill’s notions about time, I was reminded of Jenny Odell’s Saving Time, in which she considers the different ways that people have considered time outside of capitalist systems that ask us to work for our time. For Quill, Luger and Collins, and Odell, time can move in different ways than linearly. In many cultures, activities, chores, tasks, and even our menus are determined by seasonal changes. And much like Luger and Collins’ book, Quill’s guide also offers  important reminders of offering thanks and gratitude to those responsible for the change of the seasons, the bountiful harvests, the warmth of the hearth and many other necessities of everyday life that we often take for granted. It was this call for a kind of pause to think and thank for all that we have that I really appreciated from Quill’s guide. Although I haven’t implemented these practices, I could see how taking the time to stop, reflect, and realize how much we have and how we are connected to nature and our environment can lead to deeper feelings of gratitude and empathy for all.

While Quill’s book presents a practical guide for engaging in traditional Irish practices, it also serves as a kind of reference book for both the mythical gods and goddesses and the festivals for these gods and goddesses that mark important seasonal transitions in the Irish Wheel of the Year. This was my favorite part of the book. Quill’s research and organization of these prominent mythical figures and their holidays reveals much about the traditional Irish practices and beliefs but also sheds some light in more modern traditions and holidays that have been adapted and incorporated by other cultures and belief systems. Quill not only provides background details about these figures and holidays but also presents ways to honor them and hold their festivals. I also loved that Quill recognizes that for many of us, especially those of us in America or who live in large cities, reconnecting with these traditional ways might present some challenges, whether it is accessing green space or even procuring the plants, herbs, and other natural elements that can be essential to honoring these traditional Irish ways. As a result, he not only shares the traditional methods but also makes suggestions about how American and city-dwelling individuals can adapt their practice to engage with these traditions and connect with the Irish Wheel of the Year. This was a fascinating book that provides many different practical applications to reconnect to the environment and develop a deeper appreciation for the world and others. Quill takes a considerate approach, acknowledging that for those who are new to traditional Irish practices, they may not want or be able to implement all of the practices at once. Furthermore, he also shares strategies and substitutions that will allow practitioners to use alternative methods and materials to practice this thoughtful and contemplative way of life. If anything, it seems like adopting the Irish Wheel of the Year allows readers to experience a greater sense of awe and appreciation for the world, especially in being grateful for all that we have. Even though I have not adopted the specific practices recommended in this book, I can see how taking the time, even if it is a few minutes each day, to reflect and be thankful can change someone’s outlook on the world, especially now when it seems like there is always bad news lurking behind each headline or screen that we view. Living the Irish Wheel of the Year will enable readers to reconnect with their environment, feel more gratitude, and experience time in a different manner. Highly recommended!

Irish Legends for Kids

 Irish Legends for Kids: Heroes, Druids, Myths, Magic, & More from Ancient Ireland

Irish Legends for Kids book cover

Many thanks to History Brought Alive and Book Sirens for providing me with an advanced copy of Irish Legends for Kids: Heroes, Druids, Myths, Magic, & More from Ancient Ireland. I was very excited to see this book available for review since I’ve traveled to Ireland and have family there. I’m also interested in Irish mythology and culture, so I was curious to see what this book has to offer. The book has 21 short chapters that provide the background and meanings for various heroes and heroines from Irish mythology and legends, as well as examining some places like the Giant’s Causeway and Tir Na Nóg, the otherworld, and animals like the Glas Gaibhnenn, a sacred cow that provides abundance for the people of Ireland. The chapters are not incredibly detailed, which is probably good for younger readers. However, I felt like some of the chapters offered limited details to the stories, and others that focused on legends like the Banshee presented a story about a farmer named Eamon and his grandmother that I never heard of. When I tried to look up this story, I couldn’t find any information about it. The story presents a kind of sanitized, less terrifying version of the Banshee character, where the cry of the Banshee serves as a reminder to Eamon to value the time he spends with his grandmother before she dies. The events of the story are reinforced by the lessons presented at the end of the chapter. While I can see how this is a good way to introduce the concept of inevitability and acceptance of death, I’ve never heard of the Banshee legend framed in this way. Furthermore, Banshees tend to appear as a woman with long, streaming hair and is frequently a harbinger of death. In the stories that I’ve read, Banshees often force individuals to change their ways or try to escape death but inevitably succumb to the cry of the Banshee as a result of their moves to evade the inevitable. Again, maybe this kinder version was a way to make the legend less scary to younger readers, but I always thought that the ghostly image of the screaming Banshee was really intriguing. Other chapters like the one about the Druids really offered nothing meaningful, and I wondered why it was even included. The Druids were real people who lived in Ireland, England, and other areas prior to the Roman invasion. They were priests and intellectuals whose mounds and stone structures throughout Ireland and England have left nearly as many questions as answers as to who these people were and how they lived. The chapter tells about a chief druid named Cathbad yet it doesn’t really discuss much about the lives of druids, where they lived, or even what legacy they have left in Ireland. In addition, there is a chapter that discusses the possible Celtic influences on the Holy Grail story, but this also feels out of place since the connections are not well developed and seem superficial. There are many other possible influences on the Holy Grail story, and it seemed strange to focus on a Welsh legend with influences that also include Christianity.

This book has some good moments, but it is also somewhat formulaic. The chapters present the story, and then each story has a “lesson” to be learned from the events. I found that many of the lessons were similar and focused on generic ideas about bravery and courage, helping and sharing, and acceptance and love. Furthermore, these lessons didn’t include many specific details and seemed like they could refer to almost any story, myth or legend. At first, I thought that this would be a good resource for younger readers, but as I read through the 21 chapters, I found the lessons to be repetitive and banal. I wonder if using questions or prompts to encourage readers to think about what the stories mean to them might be a more engaging way to encourage critical thinking and analysis of these stories. For example, instead of presenting the meaning, the writers could ask something like “The legend of St. Patrick presents a story about hardships and challenges. What do you think St. Patrick learned from his experiences?” or “Deirdre of the Sorrows tells a story about love and loss. What lessons might Deirdre and Naoise have learned from their experiences? What kind of leader do you think King Conchobar was based on his behaviors?” I felt like I was reading the same message, and even disagreeing with some of the conclusions that the authors of this book reached about these stories that dealt with death, treachery, and betrayal.

Although there were some important stories and characters from Irish mythology, the overviews were often generic. Furthermore, the book did not always include pronunciations of characters’ names. Celtic Gaelic has a different pronunciation from English, and some of the names did not include pronunciations (Naoise, Lebeorcham, Glas Gaibhnenn, Tobar Segais, Sionann). I wasn’t sure why some of the names earlier in the book included pronunciations, which I found helpful, but names in the later chapters did not. There were some names that are still around today (Patrick, Brigid, Deirdre), but many of these names are not as common in English, so including a pronunciation key would have been helpful. In addition, I think this book could have been enhanced with images, especially for the legendary creatures like the Selkie, the Harp of Dagda, and Giant’s Causeway. Seeing the Giant’s Causeway would help to understand the unique shape of the rocks to better understand how much they are like stepping stones. Furthermore, presenting images of the Harp of Dagda, which as the authors note is the only musical instrument that serves as a country’s national symbol, would also help readers better understand the image’s significance and beauty. I also would have liked to see some comparative pictures of Samhain, the ancient Celtic festival that has evolved into Halloween. I also think that providing some images for readers to compare and contrast the similarities and differences would help readers better understand how Halloween has evolved from this Celtic tradition.

Overall, this was a book that has some interesting moments, but I kept wondering whether I would have been better off just reading Wikipedia. The writing is generic and bland, and while it may be suited to a younger audience, it still felt like it lacked any real connection with readers. The book was also incredibly repetitive, with each chapter forcing a kind of lesson learned, but often failing to include specific details or missing the mark on some important lessons. Many of the lessons were the same. Without any human author attributed to the book, I wondered whether this book was a produce of artificial intelligence. The repetitive structure and lack of specific details, as well as the kind of rote, banal tone of the book made me think that the references included at the end of the book were fed into an AI prompt and produced this output. While there are some overviews of Irish myths and legends, there are many other good resources available at libraries and online. 

Excavating the Hidden History of American Involvement in Northern Ireland: Ali Watkins' The Next One Is for You

 The Next One Is for You: A True Story of Guns, Country, and the IRA's Secret American Army by Ali Watkins

The Next One Is For You book cover

Author Ali Watkins

Vince Conlon (carrying the American flag) plays a major role in gun shipments to the IRA

A cover from Cumann na mBan, an Irish women's organization that supported the IRA. 

Big thanks to Little, Brown and Company and NetGalley for allowing me to read and review Ali Watkins exciting and surprising book detailing American involvement in the Troubles of Northern Ireland The Next One Is for you: A True Story of Guns, Country, and the IRA’s Secret American Army. Fellow Temple Alum Ali Watkins has written a fascinating, yet hidden history of the Philly connection to the IRA. What’s even more incredible about this book is how she is able to provide context and background to the complex and complicated political and social violence that besieged Northern Ireland from the 1960s up until the end of the 20^th century. With the recent Hulu series based on Patrick Radden Keefe’s excellent book Say Nothing, there seems to be a resurgence in the interest in the Troubles. While Radden Keefe’s book looks at a specific incident and the fallout from the philosophy of “say nothing”, Watkins’ book examines how American support intertwined with the dual nature of the Provisional IRA and the political art, or Sinn Fein. Watkins’ book examines how support from the Irish diaspora, specifically in Philadelphia, ended up arming and continuing the violence in Northern Ireland. I especially loved her epilogue, when she explains how she aimed to find out how one gun travelled from Philadelphia to Northern Ireland, and the lives it changed as a result. While she wasn’t able to interview some of those affected by the gun violence in Northern Ireland, her journalistic investigation and dogged research to excavate this hidden history helped to shed light into how so many American guns ended up in Northern Ireland.

In addition to being able to effectively explain the different factions in the IRA and the political and social (or maybe cultural) nature of the occupation of Northern Ireland began, Watkins also captures a vivid picture of 1970s Philadelphia and its suburbs, presenting where the gun running first occurred and how the Irish community in and around Philadelphia used a charitable aid organization as a front to ship guns over to Norther Ireland. As a lifelong Philadelphia resident whose own Irish ancestors immigrated to South Philly in the early 20^th century, I was amazed that I didn’t know more about this story. Although my family hails from Letterkenny in Co. Donnegal, not too far from Derry on the border, I’m guessing my relatives weren’t really involved. My great-grandmother was, from my understanding, fleeing a situation where she was responsible for taking care of a lot of her younger siblings. I don’t know too much about her brothers, but it was fascinating to learn how the Irish community in Philly largely kept the mantra of “say nothing”, while facilitating large shipments of arms meant to inflict violence and harm on a colonizing country. I was amazed at how these regular, blue-collar immigrants, many of them contractors and roofers, were able to purchase massive amounts of weapons and ship them overseas for many years without any kind of attention from the feds. Watkins’ reporting and analysis helps to show not only how much of a different time it was, but also how their charitable organizations and social clubs served as a front for collecting money and shipping out weapons. In addition, Watkins also contextualizes the socio and political nature of England’s occupation of Northern Ireland, exploring how many Irish in America felt strongly about the British presence in Norther Ireland, and as a result, politicians were not as willing to pursue investigations into a cause that might sour a large voting block. It was interesting to think about with political violence in other occupied areas, and how the situations differ. While Watkins wasn’t making any comparisons in her book, it’s hard not to think about other current regions and how politicians still struggle (or maybe don’t) with supporting people challenging colonialism and occupation.

Watkins’ writing also brought to life many of the main players in this hidden arms-smuggling venture. Learning about Vince Conlon and Daniel Cahalane, and their NORAID organization, was fascinating. Her research and interviews with family members brought these figures to life, and readers get a good sense of what they were like as men. It was also great to see that she and her publisher included images and photos of these individuals within the book. I loved being able to get a sense of who they were, as well as seeing some of the older photos of Philly from the 1970s. Watkins reporting also ventures to Northern Ireland, specifically retelling the story of Geraldine Crawford, a young girl whose life is changed by her involvement with the IRA. Interestingly, her life intersects with the Price sisters, whose story was told by Radden Keefe’s book (and the Hulu series on which it was based). These were some of the most intriguing chapters within Watkins’ book, since it provided an insight into life in Norther Ireland at the time, but they also gave us an insight into the implications of the gun smuggling and how it affected the lives of both the Irish Catholics and the British Protestants during this violent time in Northern Ireland.

The latter chapters of the book detail the legal cases that were eventually brought against the Irish American men responsible for sending guns to Northern Ireland. The case is fascinating for the vast extent of weapons shipped overseas as well as how long it occurred, but also because of how unsuccessful the case was. Despite winning some convictions, the prosecutors were unable to prove without reasonable doubt that the guns used in Northern Ireland were directly tied to the American aid organizations like NORAID. Watkins’ research into the cases uncovered a fascinating, but forgotten story of politics, guns, and violence. In these later chapters, we also learn the fate of the Irish American men who helped to arm the IRA, as well as how a delicate peace was eventually navigated and achieved in Northern Ireland in the late 1990s. I actually remember both before and after the peace, and visited Northern Ireland in 1999, shortly after the Good Friday accords, so it was really interesting to read this section as well. Reading about how peace was eventually achieved raised many questions for me about the nature of violence in Northern Ireland and around the world. There were some factions of the IRA that broke away from peace talks and still wanted to pursue violence as a means to an end. Most of the men involved in the American gun shipments didn’t live to see the peace, but I wondered what their reaction would be. Would they have sided with Gerry Adams and accepted a seat at the table? This was a wonderfully exciting and engaging book that I couldn’t put down. The short chapters were filled with details, and Watkins stye, balancing carefully researched facts with narrative reconstructions of the events and those involved in this secret gun-smuggling campaign kept me reading through to find out what would happen next. This was a fascinating book that not only excavated a hidden history of American involvement in a foreign war against colonialism, but also provided insightful context and background to further understand the complexities of the fraught social and political violence that has plagued Northern Ireland (and the rest of Ireland) for over 400 years. My only suggestion would be to include some kind of organization chart or a list of individuals involved. There were a lot of different people involved in both the shipping of arms and the investigation into the arms smuggling, and sometimes I found myself having to go back and check out who was involved in which way. This kind of list would help to see who was involved in which way. Highly recommended book.