HAPPY BIRTHDAY SISTER BEN

"The Breadline, 1916" by Muriel Brandt

This is the picture that Margaret Mac Curtain chose for the cover of the book, which would honour her lifetime of writings and which was launched at the celebration of her ninetieth birthday this year.

I'm sure she could have found a respectable painting of a Dominican nun in prayerful contemplation. She is, after all, a member of that community. But that would have missed the point. I'm sure she says her prayers. But that's not what she is known, or will be remembered, for. She is an activist, a doer, and has campaigned all her life for women's rights. But she has also been an academic, a prioress, and, as was clear at this weekend's celebration a mentor and a sympathetic ear.

Margaret Mac Curtain

I met her on our way into Poetry Ireland for the celebration. I nearly didn't recognise her, she looked so well. I first met her when she gave a provocative talk on the betrayal of Vatican II in St. Mary's, Haddington Road, in 2012. She has always bucked the party line and, like Jesus, has railed against the establishment, always in a constructive way. I'll bet she gave John Charles a few sleepless nights in his day.

Theo Dorgan & Margaret Kelleher

The occasion was organised by poet Theo Dorgan and UCD academic and author Margaret Kelleher.

I first met Theo at the Irish launch of Olivier Litvine's translation of Joyce's Chamber Music in the Alliance Française in 2017. Today was my first time meeting Margaret in person though I sort of felt I knew her from her wonderful book The Maamtrasna Murders and from subsequent online correspondence.

Theo kicked off the proceedings, welcoming the overflowing crowd. The place was packed, itself a tribute to Margaret, never mind the powerful words that were to follow.

He reminded us that Margaret was not only compassionate to those in need, but a tough lady when required to stand up against oppression and to encourage others to do so.

Margaret then gave a brief appreciation of her namesake's career and why it was appropriate to honour her on this occasion.

I couldn't help being struck by the pentecostal image on the wall. I didn't know what the full picture represented but it increasingly irritated me as the afternoon wore on.

Cormac Breatnach

Cormac played what looked to me like a treble recorder. He played a selection of Spanish tunes, linking to Margaret's work in Spanish archives for her thesis and later book on Dominic O'Daly.

I thought to myself, this guy is good, whoever he is.

It was only afterward that I got the full impact and significance of his presence. And it was more than appropriate and very much on topic. He is brother of Osgur and son of Deasún.

Check out this TG4 (Dia leo) documentary (52 mins) on the miscarriage (too polite a word) of justice on Osgur and its lasting effect on the whole family. Osgur is still seeking an apology and an admission that the confession was beaten out of him. This all happened in the 1970s when standing up to the Establishment was no small matter.

Now that I think of it, I had Cormac's father Deasún in my Welsh class in Aungier St. for a brief period.

Angela Bourke

I think it was Angela who told the story that she had been friendly with Margaret and shared confidences with her only to find out at a late stage that Margaret was a nun. "I had told her everything and she was a NUN!" That sort of brought the house down.

Moya Cannon

Moya spoke about being a former student of Margaret's and read her poem 'Kilcolman', a response to Edmund Spenser, the English poet, who wanted Ireland starved into civility.

She wonders how one should look on the poetry when the poet is a gobshite [my words, not hers. She puts it more elegantly]

How hard, even still, to love the well-turned verse,
whose felicities were turned on such a lathe.

Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill

I think Nuala mentioned family connections with Margaret and went on to read an English language translation of a poem followed by the Irish language original.

I translated a poem of Nuala's once. My cousin Carmel, a former teacher, asked me to do it. Someone she knew had done one and she wanted to compare the two versions. I've no idea how that worked out. This is my version.

Diarmaid Ferriter

Diarmaid repeated most of what he says in his introduction to the book. But that gives me the excuse to retell here the much repeated story from 1971. This is as Diarmaid tells it in the book.

At a debate in UCD in 1971, Margaret shared a lecture theatre platform with Mary Anderson and Nell McCafferty. Anderson suggested that each of them make a short opening statement about the personal difficulties under which they laboured as women.
Anderson said, "I am a bastard".
McCafferty said, "I am a lesbian".
Margaret said, "I am a nun".
As recalled by McCafferty, "The audience erupted in yells of pure unadulterated pleasure. The exchanges that evening were a runaway train of untrammelled speech."

Lucy McDiarmid

Lucy spoke about St Gobnait's Well and held the saint up as a model of female independence in the early Christian world.

I wonder was she once let down by PowerPoint as she had brought along millions of copies of a page of text and pictures. Very wise, I thought. One for everyone in the audience.

Paula Meehan

Paula took exception to the idea that Amergin, the male Milesian, was the first "Irish" poet, so she invented a female predecessor and entertained us with a long poem from this new source.

Well done.

Ailbhe Smyth

Ailbhe spoke about the institution of women's studies in UCD. "Margaret was 150% in. It simply could not have been done without her. Without her scholarship, without the respect people had for her, her incredible political sense." Margaret, and some others, watched her back and it was only much later that she realised how much that meant.

She shared a moment with us, which she said recalling it still filled her with emotion, and that was very clear to us watching her tell it. Margaret had given her reassurance and good advice at a very traumatic moment in her life. I'm sure Ailbhe's story is one of many that could be told about Margaret.

Michael D

Michael D was with us in spirit but with a degree of incarnation on the wall. He paid a lively and clearly heartfelt tribute to Margaret and this was much appreciated by all present.

Mary Robinson also sent greetings.

Alan Hayes

Then came the launch of the book.

Alan Hayes spoke about his publishing house Arlen House. They seem to have played a blinder over the years, but, as he said, without any grant from the Arts Council. The Council apparently hold the view that "there is no need for Arlen House".

Well, today's tribute to Margaret, a collection of her essays over the years, is 500 pages long and retails for a mere €25.

Maureen Murphy

Maureen was lavish in her praise of the book and laid great stress on the idea of communities both in the study of history and advancing the cause.

She was most forceful in her presentation and you can briefly see her in full flight on one of her favourite subjects here.

Margaret Mac Curtain

For all her physical frailty, she doesn't give up and you could feel the strength of her and the audience's respect and affection for her when she rose to speak.

As I said, I first met her when she gave a talk on the suppression of the legacy of Vatican II in St. Mary's Haddington Road in the excellent Patrick Finn Lecture series.

And shortly afterwards at the launch of an issue of Studies in Newman House where we had a long conversation and where it became clear to me why she enjoyed such widely held respect.

It was not long after this that the CDF embarked on yet another orgy of repression and I took down the post I had done on her Haddington Road talk lest it draw unwanted attention to her in those dangerous times. I'm not foolish enough to count the CDF among my admiring followers but there is always Google, as much at the service of the evil ones as that of the good.

She had a particular thank you to Arlen House with which she had a special relationship over the years.

There is no doubt that there were lots of nuns in the audience. Margaret thanked them for turning out. I figure some of these nuns were quite old and their having made the effort was a great tribute to Margaret.

When I arrived I was sure there were nuns among those coming in and I thought I'd play a little game and see if I could guess who was a nun. I gave that up fairly quickly when I mistook one of my neighbours from home, whom I actually know well, for a nun. The mind is a funny thing. I was expecting nuns and then seeing them everywhere.

She was proud of what had been accomplished over the years, not just by herself, but by all who laboured in the vineyard. She had no illusions though, there was still a lot to be done.

When she finished speaking the audience rose to their feet in a spontaneous, enthusiastic, and noisy standing ovation. Powerful stuff.

This was not just about history. It was a piece of history itself. I am so thrilled to have been there.

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Some other photos

Margaret & Nell

Nell McCafferty

I happened to see this woman in front of me who looked familiar. I wondered if she might be Nell McCafferty, but then she could have been another one of the thousands of nuns in the room.

Are you Nell McCafferty? sez I.

My name is Nell, says she.

Now that only got us half way there. Why didn't she just say yes or no. Sounds like the Nell we all know.

Nell McCafferty from Derry? sez I.

Yes, says she.

So we're there at last.

I told her I thought her portrait behind the curtain in the Little Museum was great.

Why have they covered it up? sez she. For the children?

I explained to her the intricacies of the curtain, how you could pull the ropes and they opened, and the inscription that went with it. I think we were only half connecting and I gathered that both her sight and her hearing were not the best.

Suddenly she says: You're fly is open.

Jesus, I thought, her sight can't be all that bad. I promptly zipped it up.

You should go and see it, sez I.

I couldn't climb the stairs, sez she.

It's on the ground floor, sez I.

That went down well until I remembered the outside steps, so we'll see. Anyway I was glad to have met this legend of womanhood. A bonus.

[Update 9/8/2019: I checked it out yesterday and it's actually on the first floor, so that's 10 steps outside and 30 more to the first floor. So that's that, I guess.]

Ailbhe was having trouble with the mic on the stand. Eventually Theo went over to help and finally suggested she hold the mic in her hand. Ailbhe, good humouredly, referred to the incongruity of being helped by a man. Thank you man, sez she.

The interesting thing is that she did hold it in her hand, steady, and not too close to her mouth, and came across with the best sound of the day.

This is Lucy's distributed PowerPoint substitute.

Margaret & Anngret Simms

Theo: All Hands on Deck

Margaret's Grand Entry

Selling The Book

All the World's a Stage

Cody Sanders

Cody is from Houston, Texas. His family emigrated to the USA in famine times. He is doing a masters with Margaret Kelleher. On this occasion he was Mr Sound&Vision man. He did a very good job on the sound which was required not only in the main room but in the overflow room.

When it came to the visuals, playing Michael D on the wall, the crowd was so packed that the projector was blocked. So Cody held the projector, shoulder high, for the duration. Full marks.

I had a conversation with Paula in the course of which I complimented her on her enunciation - she finished all her words. She put that down to being careful with her Dublin accent. She's Seán McDermott Street and my people are James's Street. So I gave her the test. What did she think the thing was that was pronounced "throw"? Got it in one. A first for me. It's the kitchen sink, usually the big delphy one, and it's spelled "trough".

And as for the irritating image on the wall, I thought it might have referred to WB Yeats parachuting down to his Lake Isle for a weekend break. But then I remembered that, unlike me, he never actually lived on the Island. I heard him admit this myself.

On researching the item I find, thanks to Dublin Airport's Twitter stream, that:

Irish poet and Nobel laureate Seamus Heaney is honoured in Terminal 2 @DublinAirport with the tapestry 'Out of the Marvellous', created by the artist Peter Sis & featuring lines from Lightenings viii