Norah Hatch

My relationship with Irish history and culture began when I was a child listening to my grandparents recount stories from “the old country.” I patiently waited for my opportunity to explore a place that stood as a romantic representation of my family’s history and success in America. When the opportunity arose for me to go study abroad in Dublin, I went in order to try and experience what others had told me about Ireland. I wanted to understand the country as my family members had and connect with relatives I had heard tales about. Living in Dublin for nine months brought me to realize that the familial connection I have to Ireland really has served as a bridge to my ever-growing desire to comprehend and connect with Irish culture in my own way. My return to the country, five years after I completed my time at Trinity College, marked a new chapter in my understanding of Irish history and culture because I was observing and interacting with the Irish in a literary context.

Reviewing my journal entries and photo library now, I think the largest concept I came to realize through this trip is that the landscape and the culture in Ireland are not two separate entities; rather, the two spheres work together in order to form a unique and powerful country where history is embedded not only in the minds of the people but also in the land they walk upon.

Lorcan Collins, our tour guide on the Easter 1916 Walking Tour, served as an enigmatic example of a true Irish historian and storyteller. I say this because Lorcan did not simply recount historical incidents as we walked through the streets of Dublin; he created an entertaining and gripping narrative that communicated the events of the rebellion. Our class discussions have focused on the art of storytelling in Irish tradition, citing examples in the literature we study (I am specifically thinking about Frank McCourt’s Angela’s Ashes). Irish narratives weave the truth, history, and myth together in order to make an event a celebrated story. Lorcan began our walk with a brief timeline of the events leading up to and during the Easter 1916 rebellion. He described the men and women involved in the rebellion, using emotional language and even imagery to convey the tension in this specific historical moment. Lorcan cleverly explained all the mishaps of the carefully planned rebellion, completing the time on Easter Sunday 1916 by showing us a newspaper from that day. Not only was Lorcan clearly dedicated to keeping this moment in history alive, he used humor, in true Irish tradition, in order to hold the attention of his audience. He both communicated the facts about the events while including moments that have only been confirmed by rumors and myths.

During our walk around Dublin, Lorcan stopped to discuss the “Irish National Identity” that the people involved in the Easter 1916 rebellion sought to recover from the British Empire. As a class, we discussed the formation of an “Irish National Identity” when we read about the creation of the Abbey Theatre by Lady Gregory and W.B. Yeats. Lorcan explained that the national identity that the rebels sought to preserve was, in fact, a myth within itself. He commented that before the British Empire conquered Ireland, the people of Ireland were still separated by tribes and provinces; the united Ireland, and therefore a united Irish identity, did not exist. Lorcan’s comments, though, were not negative; rather, they spoke to the past and present state of politics and culture in Ireland as part of the ongoing process to create a national identity. Lorcan’s attitude on Irish identity, how is it not one concrete concept, rather, it is a shifting idea, allowed me to draw a parallel with the way I think about my own American identity. I do not think there is any one-way Americans can be categorized because our origins remain in places outside of America. Similarly, those who seek to define the Irish national identity must grapple with a conglomerate of traditions from the original four provinces, the still existent twenty-six counties, and varying social landscapes (rural, suburban, urban).

“Brave Martin Drove Us On”

 While the bus rides were not the most exciting portions of the trip, it was amazing to watch the actual landscape change socially, from city to country. Our route, beginning in Dublin City Centre, on the east coast of Ireland, took us south, into the Irish countryside and eventually to the south west coast of the country. Because we did this drive in a day, I was able to note not only how beautiful the landscapes were but also the geological differences between them. I will never forget the ruggedness of the Ring of Kerry, and partly still cannot believe that Bowen’s Court in Farrahy, Co. Cork and the Butler Arms Hotel in Waterville, Co. Kerry are so close logistically, yet so different visually. As I watched the landscapes slide by, I came to realize and appreciate the differences in Irish culture, region to region. The pure beauty of the landscape allowed me to comprehend (at least partly) the strong ties the Irish people have to their county and the landscapes around them. Throughout the trip this friendly rivalry was shown as Joe, our informative tour guide, and Martin, our brave driver, volleyed anecdotes about Cork’s beer or Tipperary’s hurling team. At moments the references were lost on me, but these candid comments served as a powerful reason to learn more about Irish culture, past and present.

I saw this passion for counties and landscapes illustrated in Thomas McCarthy’s lecture on Elizabeth Bowen and his discussion of his own work. Growing up close to Mitchelstown, McCarthy studied Bowen’s work while creating his own, drawing from the people in his life and the landscapes that the Cork countryside offered him. In his collection of poetry, McCarthy explores other landscapes through his examination of personal relationships. The reading of his poem “The Fiction, The Sea” was particularly moving. McCarthy explained to us that he wrote it for his wife in order to capture their beach vacation destination in County Kerry and her love of the seaside. In the poem, McCarthy’s wife continually returns to the sea, eventually becoming part of the landscape she loves. During this lecture, I was reminded of my grandfather’s description of the Limerick countryside and my own attachment to the city of Dublin. While I have an emotional connection with the rural landscape that I grew up in, I realized that the connection I was forging with Irish landscapes was somehow greater. This particular bond, I believe now is nurtured by my studies of Irish literature because of the continual passion I find between the landscape of Ireland and the people who inhabit the land.