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There’s nothing like home sweet home

Wed, 05 Nov 2008 12:30:33 +0000

If you are ever thinking of writing a book about homesickness, you might read a letter that appeared in the Cork Evening Echo.

Fleet Street’s charms and chamber pots

Thu, 23 Oct 2008 14:05:13 +0100

When I was coming and going to London for The Evening Press, I used to stay in The Strand Palace Hotel but I never had breakfast there. The reason was simple: the sons and daughters of Japan always got up early -- and I didn't much enjoy joining a long queue.

What makes a real Irish breakfast?

Wed, 24 Sep 2008 14:05:29 +0100

Let us take a break today from the academic world -- and talk about food and perhaps drink. A neighbour of mine who is a famous chef gave a series of talks a few years ago on Radio Eireann. Time and again he emphasised that the best way to start the day is with a good plate of porridge. I couldn't agree less.

When brown paper wasn’t for parcels

Wed, 10 Sep 2008 13:23:58 +0100

My memories of my second and third years at Cork University have more to do with hardship than scholarship. The war that ended in 1945 left a terrible legacy. Food and fuel were very scarce -- the city of Cork didn't escape. Many women spent much of their time prospecting for pieces of dry turf in the mounds created by the city fathers. During a severe spell of bad weather a strike at the gasworks didn't help.

From the frontline

Wed, 06 Aug 2008 13:36:44 +0100

It sounds like a makey-up but it is absolutely true: It is a story about the women who survived the sinking of The Titanic.

One of our Own

Wed, 09 Jul 2008 14:35:16 +0100

Sometimes I wonder if William Yeats ever read Ireland's Own.

Poetic licence

Thu, 26 Jun 2008 08:47:19 +0100

In a previous incarnation I was the editor of a periodical. And so you might say that I have come down in the world -- and I don't mean The Sunday World. The Taxpayers' News was a rather prosaic title for a monthly magazine that was anything but prosaic.

Cezanne exuded immense aura of life

Sun, 15 Jun 2008 00:00:00 +0100

Ernest Hemmingway was fond of saying that he belonged to a lost generation. Seemingly he was talking about his fellow Americans in post-war Paris. I always thought of Ernest and Scott Fitzgerald, John Dos Passos and other American writers and artists as an extremely fortunate generation.

Words are the bricks of thought

Sun, 01 Jun 2008 00:00:00 +0100

About 60 years ago, a man called Kenneth Tynan -- who posed as a drama critic and an intellectual -- decided that he would become famous by being the first person to use a certain four-letter word on television. He thought that this might cause a revolution.

Strange stigma of being 'found on'

Wed, 21 May 2008 15:09:36 +0100

My one-time colleague and all-time friend, Des Cahill, was only a dry week in Kerry before he discovered an intriguing aspect of our culture. One day, he was playing at right-back for a local club and was rather pleased to get words of encouragement from a man watching nearby.

The Irish diaspora no longer feels so exiled

Wed, 29 Oct 2008 11:56:26 +0000

I do not know who first spoke about the bowl of bitter tears, nor do I know whether it referred to The Irish Sea or The Atlantic Ocean. All I know is that it is no longer relevant: the Irish are no longer exiles in Britain or America. Communications have banished the pain of the long goodbye.

The common fate of turf and man

Wed, 01 Oct 2008 11:27:53 +0100

I looked forward to the summer after my first year at Cork University -- even though it wouldn't be a holiday. Three of us had cut a fair amount of turf at Easter and hoped to make a modest bundle of money. Alas, we experienced the truth of Robert Burns's lines about the best laid plans of mice and men. It turned out to be the wettest summer in living memory -- whatever that means.

I was torn between book and brook

Wed, 17 Sep 2008 11:46:25 +0100

Much of the talk in this page last week was about the aftermath of World War Two, especially in the context of Cork's fair city. Of course academic life went on: I believe that the hardship of the times made us better students.

Great Latin lover but no girlfriends

Wed, 03 Sep 2008 13:20:15 +0100

Last week I wrote about Henry St John Atkins and Billy Porter, the two teachers I encountered in my first day in Cork University. In due course I found out that they were the teachers closest to their students. That helped to make them great teachers in their different ways.

Traveller tales

Wed, 16 Jul 2008 12:21:35 +0100

Twenty years or so ago I wrote an article in The Evening Press about the travelling people. I knew that some folk wouldn't like it.

Ireland sails into perilous waters after the 'No' vote

Sun, 13 Jul 2008 00:00:00 +0100

'The people' is the most abused term in the language. It got an unusually severe battering in the aftermath of the referendum. The headlines told us that the people had voted 'No'. This was repeated so often that it was funny.

West life

Thu, 19 Jun 2008 07:00:33 +0100

No period of time and no tract of territory have been more chronicled in fiction and in history and on film than what is properly called The Old West. Of course it has been romanticised -- but underneath all the myth there was hard drama and poetry.

My Heroes

Wed, 04 Jun 2008 11:00:26 +0100

I remember it well, the day that the Parish Priest came to the school and asked us all what we hoped to be when we grew up. We were all about eight years of age. We had a wide array of ambitions. A few lads were going on to be priests, a few would be doctors. One lad was going to be a sailor -- and so on . . .

Crazy river

Wed, 28 May 2008 11:37:48 +0100

I suppose it is fair to say that The Boyne is our most famous river: a battle of great importance was fought there; Fionn McCool lived on its banks; so does Sean Boylan.

How I became a spokesman for the humble bike

Wed, 14 May 2008 15:13:41 +0100

WHEN I was attempting to grow up in the wilderness of the 30s, the bike was deemed one of man's best friends. The ambition of almost all the small boys in our locality was to learn how to cycle.