Valid Reasons to Celebrate Saint Paddy's Day

 I found this meme on social media yesterday and I wanted to share it here today. I am not Irish, but I may have some Irish ancentry, maybe. I do enjoy a Guinness. I also visited Dublin once in my life and have been wanting to go back ever since. I tried Tayto's more than once and enjoyed it. So yeah, I think I'm legit.

About Liverpool and Ireland

I recently reread Tremor of Intent by Anthony Burgess, my favourite writer. Subtitled An Eschatological Spy Novel, it goes beyond the spy thriller genre or the satire of spy thrillers to become a Cold War philosophical tale about guilt, Catholicism, good and evil, identity, well, a lot of things making our human condition. When I first read it, I hadn't lived in England yet, so this it gave me a new appreciation of the novel. And there is a quite I wanted to share today:

"The best Catholic schools are in the North, since the English Reformation, like blood from the feet when the arteries harden, could not be push so far so easily. And, of course, you have Catholic Liverpool, a kind of debased Dublin."

Now, I lived a year in Liverpool, before I got married. It was a long time ago, almost twenty years. Obviously, I don't know how the city is now. But at its core, when I was there, it sure was exactly that: a Catholic Irish city lost in England. Debased Dublin sounds right, although Liverpool does not look as nice. Then again, I haven't been to Dublin in nearly twenty-five years and I never lived there, so who knows. Anyway, I love that quote.

Shining City

Today's countdown to Halloween reading suggestion, or rather watching suggestion, as it is a play: Shining City by Conor McPherson. I saw it thirteen years ago on stage in the Lake District and loved it so much that I bought the play that very night. It's a sober but very efficient ghost story set in contemporary Dublin (the shining city of the title). In it, therapist Ian, former Jesuit with a few inner demons of his own, is treating a new patient. It's John, an ordinary man if there ever was one, claims to have seen what seems to be the ghost of his recently deceased wife. As he tells his story and as we follow in parallels the troubled life of Ian, the existence of ghosts, whatever their true nature may be, seems less and less implausible. In a world where normality is often oppressive and corrosive, guilt becomes a presence, a force that can break you. It's for you if you like psychological horror (like me) and it is all the more fitting for the season that Halloween comes from Ireland originally.

"I remember Dublin City..."

Tomorrow is Saint Paddy's Day and to get myself and my family in the mood I have been listening to a lot of Irish music, particularly the Dubliners. I thought this blog needed a bit more music, so I am sharing one Irish song here. I have been to Dublin only once in my life, for a week, I did not know it "in the rare old times", nevertheless it must have changed since. And in any case, I can relate to the nostalgic aspects of this song. We all have a Dublin somewhere, it may not be a town or a city, it may not be anywhere in particular, but it haunts us.

There's a Museum of Literature

The things you learn sometimes at random, just by wasting a few minutes on social media. I discovered something exactly like this yesterday: there is a Museum of Literature in Ireland. I don't know if there are any other in the world, but there is one in Ireland and I don't know why but that makes perfect sense. And in Dublin as well, a city I visited once in my life and which I have been wanting to revisit since then. Now I have yet another reason to visit Ireland. We are planning holidays, but it will not be there this year (among other reasons because it is too chaotic a the airport), but Ireland is on my bucket list. This Museum too.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot?

Happy new year everyone! It has been a long and difficult one for most of us, even if mine ended up better than it started (but this is for another post). As it is a new tradition on Vraie Fiction (dating back from 2017), I am starting the new year with the Scottish classic with Auld Lang Syne. Ironically maybe for a British song, it is here sung by The Choral Scholars of University College Dublin. Because their rendition is absolutely gorgeous an probablyencapsulates a lot of people's state of mind this new year.

Cù Chulainn

I took this picture on my trip to Dublin back in 2000. With a disposable camera. The image is horrid, but it is the statue of (the back of) the legendary hero Cù Chulainn that you can see at the General Post Office. With the raven on his shoulder because the hero was dead. I wish I had a better picture. Anyway, it is Saint Patrick's Day tomorrow and I thought I would share this piece of Celtic culture. I know too little about Cù Chulainn but I want to discover more. In many ways, he was the Irish Hercules or Sigurd. (Oh and on a side note: yes, the accent on the u is at the wrong place, I will try to correct it if I find out how.)

Molly Malone (again)

Happy Saint Patrick's Day everyone! It is ending in a few hours here. I explained the sad situation I am in this year in this post earlier today. But I can still celebrate Ireland through its music and share it with you. I know I upload Molly Malone almost every year, but this is the first Irish song I've ever heard and I love it dearly. Take it as a tradition on this blog. Saint Paddy's Day would not be the same without it anyway. The picture on your right was taken in Dublin in March 2000, sixteen years ago. It was a moving moment to meet Dublin's most famous lady... and most famous ghost.

A Dubliner

This picture dates back from March 2000. I took it during my visit in Dublin, from a throwaway camera that was quite popular at the time, but it was a poor quality one, so it was a poor picture. Do you recognize him, even in the shadow? Yes, it is James Joyce. Well, the statue of him. Shame on me, I only ever read one short story of Dubliners from him. I have Ulysses somewhere among my books back home, which I promised myself I'd read one day. Anyway, it is Saint Patrick's Day tomorrow, so I thought I'd share this picture of James Joyce for the occasion.

Dublin wisdom

Maybe I am just a puppet here, easily and stupidly used, played if you will, by the dark and cynical forces of the Great Capital. Because I am shamelessly posting on social medias for free advertisement from a spirits company, but I saw a while ago in the local Irish pub this mat from Jameson and I thought it was absolutely brilliant. "In Dublin three is never a crowd, it's a start." It makes me want to go to Dublin. A visit is long overdue. Oh and have a shot of Jameson. I am that easily manipulated. I have been wanting to share this on Vraie Fiction and thought that since March is the month of Saint-Patrick's Day, it was a good time to finally upload the picture here.

Sweet Molly Malone

Happy Saint Patrick's Day everyone! I will start celebrating with you on this blog with a classic Irish song and the officious anthem of Dublin city. I know I uploaded Molly Malone a thousand times already. But it is a classic on this blog and I have a little anecdote to accompany the song. And anyway, there will be more music later, if I am sober enough. The picture above was taken by me fifteen years ago, in Dublin fair city itself. This is of course the statue of Molly Malone herself, on Grafton Street. It is a terrible picture, taken back in the days when we still used disposable cameras and not digital stuff. It was a very grey day in Dublin, my first day in the city. And walking around, there she was. Surrounded by people, as you could expect her to be, since she is a girl so pretty. And very... generous looking, let's put it this way. I did not even know there was a statue of her, but I recognized Molly Malone right away. She earned the less savoury nickname of "the tart with the cart", which could sound mean, but I think it is given affectionately. You can read more about my thought about the song here and here. But the best way to appreciate sweet Molly Malone is through the song that inspired her statue.

Luck of the Irishman

It is Saint Patrick's Day today, a day I love dearly since my first years in Montreal. I want first to start the day by wishing you all the luck of the Irishman. I bought this wishing stone in Dublin, it is an authentic stone from Ireland. So you can maybe touch the image and wish for something, you never know.

Soonish I will head off to the pub, from where I hope to come back sober enough to blog a bit more about the day (I promise myself not to be excessive after the exhausting journey yesterday). Until then, Happy Saint Patrick's Day everyone.

Molly Malone on the balcony

I know it is not St-Patrick's Day yet, not even any time soon, but hey it's Friday so how about some Irish music? I love old classics revisited, this is one of them, from Balcony TV, which I discovered on YouTube. More on the program here. Anyway, this is Molly Malone, sung in an operatic way on a balcony on Dublin. I find brilliant the idea of singing on a balcony whatever comes to your fancy. And singing or listening the officious Dublin anthem in Dublin is always irresistible. It is the third time I upload the song on Vraie Fiction. There will be more.

A Dublin accent?

Today, as I was purchasing my Friday sandwich treat (remember when I was blogging about sandwich treats?) in my favourite sandwich shop, the new guy (but not a very young guy) told me, as I was ordering, if I was from Dublin, as I had a Dublin accent. Brits can get the strangest ideas. I found it quite funny, and as I love Ireland and Dublin, kind of flattering, if completely undeserved. My accent when I speak English is a little bit out there, difficult to define, an English Canadian would identify it right away, but that's about it. Unfortunately, I never managed to sound like a native, however it is nice to know some people think I am. And from Dublin, it is even nicer.

Memories of Saint Patrick's Days

So Saint Patrick's Day has come and go. I barely celebrated it, because of my cold: I had one Guinness and a shot of whiskey (Jameson, which is ok when you have a sore throat, although I know zilch about whiskey) and some Irish stew at the local Irish pub. This year the stew was average, not as good as 2010 and 2011, I don't know why. In Montreal I made an Irish stew once, with mixed results, I think I used a Wikipedia recipe and it didn't taste all that much. At least it was better than the Irish stew I used to have when I started celebrating St Patrick's Day, which was basically something from a tin.

I enjoy celebrating St-Paddy's Day everywhere, even in Southern England. In fact, it is more celebrated here than on the Plateau Mont-Royal in Montreal, where I really started making it a special day for me. I have been once to Old Dublin with my brother on the day, where it was very crowded and very enjoyable, even though I think I was the only one drinking Guinness and not green coloured lager. I went to Dublin back in 2000, a few days after Saint Patrick's Day. I missed something I guess, but I was in Ireland, so I didn't care. A Guinness is an Guinness at any day. I think my best Saint Paddy's was still in Liverpool: I spent the afternoon in the various Irish pubs in town, drank enough to feel good about it, but not too much to get drunk. I listened to Irish music, chatted with drunken Scousers or Irish (the city is full of them). I went back home in the evening and watched some documentaries about Irish folk groups, so more Irish music. Then I watched Donnie Brasco as I was sobering up. A drinking day is enjoyable when you remember enough about it. That one was.

I know it is a day too late, but I thought about uploading one last Irish song here. You can come back here next year, or simply enjoy it as it is a nice song. My father sent me information about a Black Velvet, a cocktail mixing Champagne and Guinness. A strange combination, not certain if it is not spoiling good Guinness with something too fancy and high brow.That said, because of this I had the Black Velvet Band in the head all of yesterday (with the headache caused by the Jameson). So here it is, sung of course by the Dubliners. It is a song about treachery and alcohol is after all often treacherous, especially on a Saint-Patrick's Day.

Molly Malone (just because)

Yes, I uploaded the song before here. But that was two years ago, or so. And it is St-Patrick's Day soon, and it is March, and I want some Irish music on this blog. Molly Malone isnot the only Irish song I love to listen to, you can find many here if you check the labels, but it is maybe the only one I sing easily (as opposed to others). I mean I know the lyrics of Molly Malone and I can sing it maybe without the Irish accent, but with the right tone, the melancholic pathos. Singing such song is easy enough, singing it right is an entirely other matter. I am not singing it perfectly, far from it, but with a bit of practice I think I might: one has to put the soul in it, so to speak. Or maybe a pint or two of Guinness. But I should maybe avoid the temptation of being too operatic.

You can read more about what I think of Dublin's officious anthem here. A few more observations: Dublin's most famous girl next door must have stunk of fish and seafood. But when you love fish, cockles, mussels and the salty smell of the sea, it is not be stinky at all for you, and I think it may even have added to her charm. She had the Irish accent too, but I guess in a city of Irishmen, that was not exactly exotic. Anyway, I am not original, I am also a tad repetitive, so the reader might forgive me but I decided to upload again a version by the Dubliners. Like two years ago. I am not very original, but I find it difficult to find someone who sings it as good as they do.

The Rocky Road to Dublin

No, I am not travelling to Ireland any time soon, sadly. I am staying here, but it is going to be soon Saint Patrick's Day, and it means that I am in an Irish mood: I listen to Irish music and long for Ireland. I have been to Dublin only once in my life, more than ten years ago and I have been wanting to go back since then. So I decided to put here an Irish folk song, because it is the time of the year and because it illustrates my mood. This is The Rocky Road to Dublin, interpreted (again) by the Dubliners, a very difficult song to sing (I won't even dare to try just yet), but so very easy to listen to. This is for me the perfect road song, the one I think about when I feel like stretching my legs and leaving for a few days to a strange land or a place I could call home (in Dublin's case, it is a bit of both).

Molly Malone

"In Dublin's fair city,
where the girls are so pretty,
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone,
As she wheeled her wheel-barrow,
Through streets broad and narrow,
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!""

Care for some Irish music, as it is soon Saint Patrick's Day? I first got introduced to this classic song in A Clockwork Orange, when a drunken beggar sings it, which causes Alex to dismiss it in these unflattering terms:

"One thing I could never stand was to see a filthy, dirty old drunkie, howling away at the filthy songs of his fathers and going blurp blurp in between as it might be a filthy old orchestra in his stinking, rotten guts. I could never stand to see anyone like that, whatever his age might be, but more especially when he was real old like this one was."

I know Alex is supposed to be a hooligan and a musical elitist one at that, but that was still unfair. Molly Malone is not a filthy song. The beggar does not sing it in the original novel. I don't think Anthony Burgess, who had Irish blood and was in love with the country and its capital, could have come up with something like that. Anyway, the song stayed at the back of my head, as the small part in the musical framework of the movie, until I visited Dublin ten years ago and saw her statue on Grafton Street.

Like many things I love, I don't know exactly why I love it. It's a great drinking song, it has romantic self-irony, a bit of of supernatural element, atmosphere, it also has charming simplicity. I have been wanting to put it on this blog for a while. So here it is, sung by the Dubliners (and I know it takes too much space):

I want to see Ireland again

We just watched the last few minutes of Countryfile, a BBC program. The journalist was in Tory Island, it seemed like such a lovely place. Small, lonely, in the middle of nowhere, probably cold every time of year, but still lovely. They had a Labrador dog that was swimming with a dolphin in the bay. It was just idyllic. I have been to Ireland only once, more than eight years ago, I have been missing it since then. I have only been to Dublin for a week, I might as well say that I didn't see Ireland at all. There is a special connection I feel with the Irish people, something to do with their climate and Catholicism I think. I always had the feeling that they were Quebeckers who didn't speak French, or that we were French speaking Irish. The last one must be more appropriate, as they are a much older people than we are.