Sunday, May 23, 2010
Cultural Journal 3 - Beer Beer Beer, Tiddly Beer Beer Beer
When I told people I was going to Ireland, some of the most common responses were suggestions on what, and how much of it, I should drink. After all, Americans love St. Patricks Day, when “everyone is Irish” (and thus drinks a lot, apparently). In my mind, I suppose I had visions of wild nights, crazy partying, and raucous singing in every pub on every night. This has, quite reasonably, not turned out to be the case. In fact, I was shocked by a number of elements of drinking culture here, beginning with the fact that a pint is so expensive – generally around €5 (over $6) for a Guinness. Even during the Celtic Tiger, I suspect that most people would be hard pressed to drink more than 2-3 on a given night. The size of a pint slows one down a bit versus a 12oz bottle, but it is still easy to find yourself ploughing through money in a hurry on drinks. My second surprise was how early things seem to wind down around Ireland. In Dublin, the buses stop running around 23:30, so anyone out drinking who doesn’t live in walking distance of city centre has to either leave before then, be okay to drive, or catch a cab, a far more expensive prospect (even worse combined with the expense of drinking in the first place). Of course, people still do it, but we tend to think of Ireland as a land of pubs crammed with revellers until the wee hours, pounding back pint after pint. The reality doesn’t match up; while a Super Bowl in the states might see individuals putting away a 6- or 12-pack of beer all to themselves, watching the final games of the world cup in pubs here consisted of 1-2 pints for the viewers, a far cry from what is expected. It’s been an adjustement for me –as a night person, I’m used to being out at odd hours, getting a beer at midnight, a burger at 1am or breakfast at 3. I’d half expected to be at Temple Bar with my classmates three nights a week, stumbling home at 2am and dragging my carcass to class in the mornings, but instead I often find myself comfortably home at 10pm, waiting for the sun to set so I can go to sleep. Not what I expected, but frankly I think we’re all better off.
Cultural Journal 2 - Helpfulness
We’d been told before going to Belfast that people in Northern Ireland were even more friendly than their Republican counterparts. We saw this a few times during our stay, but nowhere more so than the “ATM Incident.”
Haney and I were in search of a cash machine so that we could get some lunch before our bus back to Dublin. We asked at a stall near the entrance to the market, and were told by the woman that she didn’t know the area well enough. We left the market and walked up one block, asked at a pub and were told there was one the other way, on the other side of the market block. We walked to that block and saw nothing, so we asked at another pub and were told it was further up. Finding nothing, we asked at Subway and were told there weren’t any in that area, and would have to walk back closer to City Center to find any. We did eventually find one in a SPAR store, but stumbling across it we had a surprising experience.
We saw a woman and her daughter (I assume) leave the market and walk towards us. As they passed, Hany asked if she knew where we could find a cash station. She stopped to think, then said that she didn’t know much about that area; the only one she knew of was towards her home, and further than she thought was worth walking. She then asked us if we would like a ride to the ATM and back, as her car was just up the road. She offered a ride to two complete strangers with luggage, both male foreigners, and she with her daughter and shopping in hand. I was blown away. We turned her down, and her daughter suggested the train station might have one, and we parted ways, but the incident stuck with me. I can’t even conceive of offering a ride in that situation, and I’m a pretty nice guy. The idea that an average American asked the same question would make that kind of an offer is pretty much laughable – it would be a huge drain on our time and, in our minds, outright dangerous. This wasn’t the only example of the people of Ulster being extra-helpful, but it was the most surprising. It’s hard to believe, with their violent history and neighbor-on-neighbor conflicts, that they would be so eager and willing to help out a local, much less an outsider. Maybe it’s a desire to prove that they’ve grown out of the violence, putting a smiling face on an area once considered dangerous to visit. There seems to be something in the Irish character that lends itself to trust and helpfulness, and Ulsterites (?) seem to have an extra 10% of whatever that is.
Haney and I were in search of a cash machine so that we could get some lunch before our bus back to Dublin. We asked at a stall near the entrance to the market, and were told by the woman that she didn’t know the area well enough. We left the market and walked up one block, asked at a pub and were told there was one the other way, on the other side of the market block. We walked to that block and saw nothing, so we asked at another pub and were told it was further up. Finding nothing, we asked at Subway and were told there weren’t any in that area, and would have to walk back closer to City Center to find any. We did eventually find one in a SPAR store, but stumbling across it we had a surprising experience.
We saw a woman and her daughter (I assume) leave the market and walk towards us. As they passed, Hany asked if she knew where we could find a cash station. She stopped to think, then said that she didn’t know much about that area; the only one she knew of was towards her home, and further than she thought was worth walking. She then asked us if we would like a ride to the ATM and back, as her car was just up the road. She offered a ride to two complete strangers with luggage, both male foreigners, and she with her daughter and shopping in hand. I was blown away. We turned her down, and her daughter suggested the train station might have one, and we parted ways, but the incident stuck with me. I can’t even conceive of offering a ride in that situation, and I’m a pretty nice guy. The idea that an average American asked the same question would make that kind of an offer is pretty much laughable – it would be a huge drain on our time and, in our minds, outright dangerous. This wasn’t the only example of the people of Ulster being extra-helpful, but it was the most surprising. It’s hard to believe, with their violent history and neighbor-on-neighbor conflicts, that they would be so eager and willing to help out a local, much less an outsider. Maybe it’s a desire to prove that they’ve grown out of the violence, putting a smiling face on an area once considered dangerous to visit. There seems to be something in the Irish character that lends itself to trust and helpfulness, and Ulsterites (?) seem to have an extra 10% of whatever that is.
Cultural Journal 1 - Children
As a child I was exposed to many horror films which many parents might not have found appropriate for their kids. In addition to classic horror film, my nephew has been watching South Park since he was 6, and although his parents are careful to contextualize it and make sure he knows not to go repeating some of what he hears, it would be easy for some to criticize their choice of viewing material. Likewise, my nephew has been exposed to casual profanity from an early age, but again has been taught that though it may be DONE, it isn’t necessarily ALLOWED.
Our house mother is a child minder, and the house is often full of children. One of them belongs to the girlfriend of one of her sons, and during our first dinner I was able to watch the interaction between the child, two of the sons, the mother, and our house mom. I hadn’t really thought much about it, but I suppose I expected something akin to what I see of American childrearing, perhaps a bit more conservative as we’re in a Catholic nation. The first chink in this notion was one of the sons smacking the child on the head, not very hard, but harder than I would have expected. This wasn’t done in anger, or as a punishment, it was a friendly and joking gesture which the child responded to be laughing and swinging his own tiny hands at his assailant. The child was given the middle finger, and returned it in kind. The word “fuck” was used conversationally (not by the child), and nobody thought twice about it. One of the sons pretended that he was going to pour water on the kid, and when the child noticed he was most insistent that it be done. So it was. Twice.
It was odd, but in a way very refreshing. We’re so lawsuit happy in America, I can’t imagine what a parent would think to see their child engaged in these kinds of behaviors, but the child’s mother was laughing as hard as anyone. The child was enjoying himself, and never once cried or protested about any of it, just took it in stride. It seems to me that when his contemporaries in America are threatening to sue their bullies in middle school, this kid will be taking it in stride and standing up for himself without relying on the legal system. I like that.
Our house mother is a child minder, and the house is often full of children. One of them belongs to the girlfriend of one of her sons, and during our first dinner I was able to watch the interaction between the child, two of the sons, the mother, and our house mom. I hadn’t really thought much about it, but I suppose I expected something akin to what I see of American childrearing, perhaps a bit more conservative as we’re in a Catholic nation. The first chink in this notion was one of the sons smacking the child on the head, not very hard, but harder than I would have expected. This wasn’t done in anger, or as a punishment, it was a friendly and joking gesture which the child responded to be laughing and swinging his own tiny hands at his assailant. The child was given the middle finger, and returned it in kind. The word “fuck” was used conversationally (not by the child), and nobody thought twice about it. One of the sons pretended that he was going to pour water on the kid, and when the child noticed he was most insistent that it be done. So it was. Twice.
It was odd, but in a way very refreshing. We’re so lawsuit happy in America, I can’t imagine what a parent would think to see their child engaged in these kinds of behaviors, but the child’s mother was laughing as hard as anyone. The child was enjoying himself, and never once cried or protested about any of it, just took it in stride. It seems to me that when his contemporaries in America are threatening to sue their bullies in middle school, this kid will be taking it in stride and standing up for himself without relying on the legal system. I like that.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Academic Journal 15 - Quiet Reflection
I began watching ‘The Quiet Man’ before going to Dublin, but I turned it off. It just felt too schlocky – all of my research had made it clear that while vast portions of Ireland were very rural, it was in many ways as cosmopolitan (especially in Dublin) as anywhere in the USA or mainland Europe. ‘The Quiet Man’ just sat poorly with me, and while in Ireland, I wondered at times why the program asked us to watch the film; I couldn’t figure it out, so when I got back I decided to knuckle down and watch the damn thing. Having done so, I have a few ideas on why it was on our films list.
Obviously, the film is set (and was filmed) in Ireland, and has some fantastic views of the landscape. Passing through rural Ireland on train and bus rides, it’s easy to see that much of the country does still look that way. Perhaps part of the goal was to remind us of that fact, since we were spending the majority of our time in cities and towns rather than the countryside and it would be easy to forget the agrarian roots of the country. It could also have been a subversive move by the faculty to see I we would fall into the trap of thinking that 1950’s Ireland was what we should expect.
Hand in hand with that, the film presents a number of common stereotypes about the Irish. Mary and Red certainly have the famed Irish temper, and even Sean as an ex-boxer (fulfilling another stereotype about Irish athletes, I suspect) embodies this tendency towards violence. The importance of drinking, though not entirely a stereotype, is also featured in the film as Sean and Red become friends over a fight and a pint. Dragging Mary back to town from the train, followed by cheering townsfolk (one of whom provides him with a stick to hit her with) sends an interesting message about the role of women in Irish culture, and quite frankly about the perception of women in America at that time as well; perhaps we’re meant to reflect on that, and to compare that to more recent Irish films featuring strong female characters. The film also features scenes of wealthy people congregating, as contrast to the more “simple” lives of the villagers, which is a theme we returned to often when discussing imperialism.
After thinking on it for a while, there seem to be many potential reasons to watch ‘The Quiet Man’ before, during, or after a trip to Ireland, but I don’t feel that it would have been integral to my visit, or that I somehow missed out by not watching it before going. In fact, I’m glad I watched it after returning home, so that I had an actual context of Ireland to compare it to, instead of vice-versa.
Obviously, the film is set (and was filmed) in Ireland, and has some fantastic views of the landscape. Passing through rural Ireland on train and bus rides, it’s easy to see that much of the country does still look that way. Perhaps part of the goal was to remind us of that fact, since we were spending the majority of our time in cities and towns rather than the countryside and it would be easy to forget the agrarian roots of the country. It could also have been a subversive move by the faculty to see I we would fall into the trap of thinking that 1950’s Ireland was what we should expect.
Hand in hand with that, the film presents a number of common stereotypes about the Irish. Mary and Red certainly have the famed Irish temper, and even Sean as an ex-boxer (fulfilling another stereotype about Irish athletes, I suspect) embodies this tendency towards violence. The importance of drinking, though not entirely a stereotype, is also featured in the film as Sean and Red become friends over a fight and a pint. Dragging Mary back to town from the train, followed by cheering townsfolk (one of whom provides him with a stick to hit her with) sends an interesting message about the role of women in Irish culture, and quite frankly about the perception of women in America at that time as well; perhaps we’re meant to reflect on that, and to compare that to more recent Irish films featuring strong female characters. The film also features scenes of wealthy people congregating, as contrast to the more “simple” lives of the villagers, which is a theme we returned to often when discussing imperialism.
After thinking on it for a while, there seem to be many potential reasons to watch ‘The Quiet Man’ before, during, or after a trip to Ireland, but I don’t feel that it would have been integral to my visit, or that I somehow missed out by not watching it before going. In fact, I’m glad I watched it after returning home, so that I had an actual context of Ireland to compare it to, instead of vice-versa.
Academic Journal 14 - Once Ending (Twice Shy)
I really enjoyed ‘Once;’ in fact, I went out and bought the soundtrack/score from Amazon.com as soon as I got home from Ireland. The timing to watch it was right, as we recognized many of the areas of Dublin where filming occurred, which I think helped us to identify with and relate to the film in a different way than we would have at the beginning of the trip. One thing that really stuck with me about the film was the ending. I was pretty sure that I had the ending predicted early on; their awkwardness would melt away as they worked together, leading to a stolen kiss, a lingering embrace, and at long last they would “find” each other. Even signals that seemed to belie this expectation fed my belief – he called his ex girlfriend and said he was coming to find her, but of course at the last minute he would have a change of heart. After standing him up, the Girl would catch him at the airport, or fly to London to find him. When he left the airport towards the end, I just knew he was running to her arms, and when the piano arrived, I just knew she would be on the next plane.
But it didn’t happen, which some of my classmates disliked. They felt that these two characters had been built up as a romantic couple over the course of the film, and were somehow robbed of that by the end. I disagreed, but at the same time I see their reasoning, and expect that many people (at least, Americans) might feel the same way. It’s a difficult ending in many ways. It isn’t a tragic ending, where they secretly pine for each other as they stumble through the lives they chose. It’s a happy ending in that he is off to pursue a career and she has her husband with her, but it’s not happy in the sense of the Boy and Girl ending up together. Why did the writer and director choose to end the film this way, with him leaving to be with his ex and yet buying the Girl a piano even after she stood him up the night before?
I don’t know for sure, but I have a theory: the romantic plot is there to serve the main plot of musicians coming into their own talent, rather than the other way around. I assumed from the start that this was the story of two people who fall in love, and that the musical subplot was a vehicle to tell the story of their relationship; that’s the way many romance films seem to be structure – whatever the main characters do is just a part of how they get together, which serves the story of a budding romance. But the screenwriter didn’t want to tell a love story, s/he wanted to tell a music story. How do we get these two musicians to work together? He’s broken hearted, and she’s a lonely foreigner. Hey, a romantic interest between them! I think that might be what threw off my classmates – like me, they expected a love story carried by a musical arc. But I love films that feel different, and ‘Once’ was surely that.
But it didn’t happen, which some of my classmates disliked. They felt that these two characters had been built up as a romantic couple over the course of the film, and were somehow robbed of that by the end. I disagreed, but at the same time I see their reasoning, and expect that many people (at least, Americans) might feel the same way. It’s a difficult ending in many ways. It isn’t a tragic ending, where they secretly pine for each other as they stumble through the lives they chose. It’s a happy ending in that he is off to pursue a career and she has her husband with her, but it’s not happy in the sense of the Boy and Girl ending up together. Why did the writer and director choose to end the film this way, with him leaving to be with his ex and yet buying the Girl a piano even after she stood him up the night before?
I don’t know for sure, but I have a theory: the romantic plot is there to serve the main plot of musicians coming into their own talent, rather than the other way around. I assumed from the start that this was the story of two people who fall in love, and that the musical subplot was a vehicle to tell the story of their relationship; that’s the way many romance films seem to be structure – whatever the main characters do is just a part of how they get together, which serves the story of a budding romance. But the screenwriter didn’t want to tell a love story, s/he wanted to tell a music story. How do we get these two musicians to work together? He’s broken hearted, and she’s a lonely foreigner. Hey, a romantic interest between them! I think that might be what threw off my classmates – like me, they expected a love story carried by a musical arc. But I love films that feel different, and ‘Once’ was surely that.
Academic Journal 13 - Some Mothers Son
Some Mothers Son was an excellent and moving film, and I was especially struck by the final exchange between Kathleen Quigley and Annie Higgins. After Kathleen tells Annie that she signed the form to remove her son from the hunger strike, Annie (whose son had just died as a result of the strike) responded that she was glad Kathleen had that option, and that someone had to do it. Annie had been a staunch supporter of the IRA’s actions and of the strike itself up to that point, and I had expected her to be angry and accuse Kathleen of being a traitor, or perhaps the film to end with Kathleen’s car exploding when she next started it, or something similar. Annie’s response was a surprise to me, and I’m still not 100% sure what she meant by it.
At first I thought it might be a little sarcastic. We know that Annie lost a child to the British forces, fueling her IRA sympathies and support of her son as a member, so I understand why she felt that she had no choice but to let her son continue on his strike. Telling Kathleen that she was glad she had the option of ending it could have been a dig at her for subverting the cause, or a reminder that Kathleen hadn’t experienced loss the way Annie had. But then why would Annie say that someone had to end it? The IRA position was that Thatcher had to give in to their demands and end the strike, so I understand the wording, but why would Annie be so accepting of Kathleen’s decision?
What I’ve come to believe is that Annie is acknowledging a deeper strength in Kathleen than she herself possesses. It takes great strength and courage to stand up for what you believe, and arguably even greater courage to starve yourself to death for your beliefs. It seems on the surface that Annie had the greater strength to stand by and let her son kill himself, but in fact I think it was the easier road. By allowing her son’s strike to continue Annie can absolve herself of responsibility by blaming Thatcher; after years of supporting IRA activities, standing up and ending the strike would not only be counterintuitive, but potentially dangerous if the IRA decided that she was a traitor to the cause. Kathleen’s decision to take her son off the strike was not a sign of weakness or giving in to Thatcher, but in fact a standing up to the insanity of the standoff and the waste of life. How could anyone not envy that sort of strength?
At first I thought it might be a little sarcastic. We know that Annie lost a child to the British forces, fueling her IRA sympathies and support of her son as a member, so I understand why she felt that she had no choice but to let her son continue on his strike. Telling Kathleen that she was glad she had the option of ending it could have been a dig at her for subverting the cause, or a reminder that Kathleen hadn’t experienced loss the way Annie had. But then why would Annie say that someone had to end it? The IRA position was that Thatcher had to give in to their demands and end the strike, so I understand the wording, but why would Annie be so accepting of Kathleen’s decision?
What I’ve come to believe is that Annie is acknowledging a deeper strength in Kathleen than she herself possesses. It takes great strength and courage to stand up for what you believe, and arguably even greater courage to starve yourself to death for your beliefs. It seems on the surface that Annie had the greater strength to stand by and let her son kill himself, but in fact I think it was the easier road. By allowing her son’s strike to continue Annie can absolve herself of responsibility by blaming Thatcher; after years of supporting IRA activities, standing up and ending the strike would not only be counterintuitive, but potentially dangerous if the IRA decided that she was a traitor to the cause. Kathleen’s decision to take her son off the strike was not a sign of weakness or giving in to Thatcher, but in fact a standing up to the insanity of the standoff and the waste of life. How could anyone not envy that sort of strength?
Academic Journal 12 - Feminine Power
We’ve discussed in class how females have often been portrayed as “weak” or subjugated in Irish literature, especially with the influence of British and Catholic patriarchal systems. However, I have noticed a surprising number of examples of very strong, even aggressive female characters in more contemporary works. Ms. O’Shea in A Star Called Henry is an excellent example of a woman who is not just independent, but downright dangerous as a soldier. Even after marriage, her activities never become “domestic;” in fact, Henry refers to an incident burning down a barracks as a night out with HER, rather than a night out with him. Trudy in When Brendan Met Trudy follows in this same iconoclastic vein; a professional thief, she brings the mousy Brendan into a world of danger and excitement he could never have expected. At the Galway Film Fleadh, I saw two films with strong Irish female leads who were not only fierce survivors but had some kind of “mystic” power, subverting the withered crone stereotype even as they skewer the weak female one. This empowerment of women can be seen in the public sphere as well; despite the Republic of Ireland’s tendency towards Catholic values, the President of Ireland has been a woman for the past twenty years (Mary Robinson 1990-1997, Mary McAleese 1997-present).
It seems to me that the Irish Republic has been quick to embrace women’s empowerment, and I suspect that their mythic tradition has something to do with this, as Ireland has a number of powerful and important female characters in their mythology, from goddess-like figures such as Macha and The Morrigan, associated with war and sovereignty, to famed queens such as Maeve who ruled as equals with their kings (I’ve read some sources that claim marrying Maeve was the only way to become king in the first place). I believe that a mythic tradition featuring powerful females has enabled the people of Ireland to move more quickly towards equality of the sexes in spite of centuries of patriarchal tradition imposed by invaders.
It seems to me that the Irish Republic has been quick to embrace women’s empowerment, and I suspect that their mythic tradition has something to do with this, as Ireland has a number of powerful and important female characters in their mythology, from goddess-like figures such as Macha and The Morrigan, associated with war and sovereignty, to famed queens such as Maeve who ruled as equals with their kings (I’ve read some sources that claim marrying Maeve was the only way to become king in the first place). I believe that a mythic tradition featuring powerful females has enabled the people of Ireland to move more quickly towards equality of the sexes in spite of centuries of patriarchal tradition imposed by invaders.
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