That's what the holidays are for - for one person to tell the stories and another to dispute them. Isn't that the Irish way?
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
Every publisher or agent I've ever met told me the same thing - that Irish readers don't want to read about the bad old days of the Troubles; neither do the English and Americans - they only want to read about the Ireland of The Quiet Man, when red-haired widows are riding bicycles and everyone else is on a horse.
Every St. Patrick's Day every Irishman goes out to find another Irishman to make a speech to.
I have encountered on this long road an enthusiasm for an Irishness which will be built on recognising again those sources from which spring the best of our reason and curiosity.
Irish fiction is full of secrets, guilty pasts, divided identities. It is no wonder that there is such a rich tradition of Gothic writing in a nation so haunted by history.
Everything that we inherit, the rain, the skies, the speech, and anybody who works in the English language in Ireland knows that there's the dead ghost of Gaelic in the language we use and listen to and that those things will reflect our Irish identity.
Perhaps our Irish friends should not so completely turn their backs on their historical dishes, no matter how many jokes they might have to endure.
Stories are different every time you tell them - they allow so many possible narratives.
Yes... I miss that everyone in Ireland tries to knock some humour out of every situation. I don't think I appreciated that. It's unique to Ireland.
Show me an Irishman who can't tell a story - I don't think they exist.
I can't think of anything you might say about Irish people that is absolutely true.