Meet the Seanachaí

Eddie Lenihan - travelling storyteller

Eddie Lenihan – travelling storyteller

Seanachaí – a word with many ways of spelling it in the Irish: seanchaidhe (plural seanchaidhthe); seanchaí, or shanachie in its anglicised form. In Scottish Gaelic the word is seanchaidh or shennachie, while in Manx Gaelic the word is shennaghee.

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A Seanachaí is a bearer of old lore – the role that the Bards once fulfilled, either attached to the retinue of clan chieftains or individually travelling through the Provinces where it was obligatory to offer them hospitality in return for an evening of elucidation or entertainment. I have previously mentioned the travails of ‘Red’ Aengus O’Daly whose reputation of publicly criticising his hosts on his travels led to a sticky end.

levis

The Seanachaí came to us in Ballydehob – heralded by a missable poster in the window of Levis’ Bar, which held the event. Levis’ is one of the smallest pubs in the town but over fifty people crowded in to listen to Eddie Lenihan – probably Ireland’s best known living storyteller. The pub interior itself is a wonderful backdrop for such an occasion: a selection of groceries and household goods rubs shoulders on the shelves with old postcards and paintings. Behind Eddie in the photo you can see a full length portrait of Ballydehob’s most famous son, Danno O’Mahony, 6ft 3ins tall and weighing over 18 stone: he was regarded as the strongest man in the world. The family haled from Dereenlomane and Danno was born in 1912. By 1934, at the age of 22, he was already the Irish Wrestling Champion and started a professional wrestling career in America. He won 55 out of 55 fights and became Supreme World Wrestling Champion in 1935. He successfully defended his title 125 times. His homecoming to Ballydehob after winning the world title was captured on Pathe News, here.

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Returning to our own champion storyteller, Eddie Lenihan provided a fascinating, amusing and sometimes frightening evening’s entertainment to an enraptured audience of young and old listeners. He has gathered stories of The Other Crowd, Irish folk and country ways from people who still remember them being told in their own youths seventy or eighty years ago, and he is passing them on. Sometimes he speaks of stories which can’t be told: intriguing. He was born in Kerry, lives now in Clare and was passing through Cork: truly keeping alive the tradition of bearing the old lore: the Seanachaí.

Christmas Cribs

Bantry Town Square

Bantry Town Square

In this part of Ireland putting up a nativity scene at Christmas time is as natural as breathing. Known as cribs, they appear everywhere at the beginning of December. Every Irish home has one, perhaps passed down through the generations, and they come out from the attic storage boxes along with the decorations to be displayed in a window or on a mantlepiece or hall table. Even for families that consider themselves non-religious, the crib is an essential part of getting a house ready for Christmas.

One for every budget

One for every budget

Large cribs are erected in town squares and in churches. Sometimes the figures in a church crib will be inserted slowly, one a day, in little ceremonies involving children. Traditionally, the baby Jesus, was not placed in the manger until Christmas Eve. Live cribs, where the nativity figures and animals are alive, are often mounted as fundraisers. I wrote about the Skibbereen one last year. There is even, in Dublin, the Moving Crib – an institution that generations of Irish children will remember and which is still going strong almost 60 years after it was first introduced as a Christmas wonder in a church basement.

Rosie's Pub in Ballydehob

Rosie’s Pub in Ballydehob

Many businesses clear their window displays to feature the crib at Christmas – along with Santa, reindeer and the usual holly and candles. Shops, hairdressers, garages, pubs: it’s universal and it’s all a reminder that Ireland, which now prides itself on its multi-cultural and pluralistic society, is still at heart a traditional Catholic country.

Outside the Catholic Church in Schull

Outside the Catholic Church in Schull

A striking aspect of Irish cribs is their conventional character: lifelike (and sometimes life-sized) representation is the norm. Mary, Joseph, Baby Jesus, shepherds and kings, the cow and the donkey are all instantly recognisable and similar, as if stamped out by the same crib-figure factory in Italy.

In Ballydehob

In Ballydehob

John Charles McQuaid and Eamon DeValera - together keeping Ireland devout

John Charles McQuaid and Eamon DeValera – together keeping Ireland devout*

As I considered this, a memory stirred and I went hunting on the internet for more information. In 1964 a new church was built at Dublin Airport. Named, suitably, “Our Lady Queen of Heaven” it was a beautiful piece of mid-century modern architecture designed by an Irish architect, Andrew Devane, who had studied under Frank Lloyd Wright. For Christmas 1966 a new crib was installed. Consisting of minimalist, highly stylised all white figures (I am going by memory here – I can’t find any pictures of it on the internet) it created a sensation at the time. My father, who worked at the airport and who was very proud of the church, brought us to see it. Alas, it was all too much for the Archbishop of Dublin, the famous John Charles McQuaid. Decreeing that it was “beneath the level of human dignity” and that its presence was an offence against Canon Law, he ordered it removed. This sentiment was echoed in the Irish parliament (Dáil Éireann) by the Minister for Public Works of the day, Oliver Flanagan. He said: A crib in modern design was erected at Dublin Airport last winter. The Archbishop of Dublin ordered it to be removed. The images could be described as anything but the kind of images one associates with the Christmas crib. We must have modern art. We must have proper designs for memorials and statues in keeping with the present and the past. Monuments commemorating the past must resemble the past.

I can’t imagine this happening today in Ireland and perhaps there are now many modern and unique cribs around the country. But I certainly haven’t found any so far in West Cork.

How's this for a modern crib?

How’s this for a modern crib?

*From the Irish Independent Website

Christmas Markets

En route to Goleen, every couple of Km, a reindeer points the way to the Christmas Market.

En route to Kilcrohane, every couple of kilometres, a reindeer points the way to the Christmas Market

‘Tis the season…and oh dear, I am afraid to tot up what we have spent at the Christmas markets here in West Cork. We tell ourselves that we have moved here with nothing to hang on a Christmas tree; that we are supporting local entrepreneurs, artists, craftspeople and fund-raisers; that we need to lay in food for visitors; but the truth is that we find the whole Christmas market thing irresistible.

Amanda and her beautiful Wayfarer Cards; December weather in Kilcrohane; furniture and art in Ballydehob

Amanda and her beautiful Wayfarer Cards; blue skies in Kilcrohane; furniture and art in Ballydehob

We love the colour, the carols, and the stalls that only appear at this time of year. We love the ones run by kids – raffling for their youth group, or trying to make a bit of cash by knitting and stitching and sawing and hammering. We love the amazing array of wonderful foods: we have come to know many of the vendors as friends and it feels good to know where your food is coming from.

Raising money for the club; we made them ourselves!

Raising money for the club; elf workshop; we made them ourselves!

This year we have attended markets in Goleen, Ballydehob, Kilcrohane and Skibbereen – so far! Each community is proud of its market and each one has a distinct character. The weather has been marvellous too – a real bonus since at least part of every market is outside.

Everyone loves Eithne's baking; Josephine and he delicious Hannah Quill preserves; Paul and Anne and their Fabulous West Cork Pies; smoked fish, quial's eggs and Coolea cheese.

Everyone loves Eithne’s baking; Josephine and her delicious Hannah Quill preserves; Paul and Anne and their fabulous West Cork Pies; smoked fish, quail’s eggs and Coolea Cheese

I think we might be able to sport a respectable Christmas tree now…and we certainly won’t starve!

Part of the haul.

Part of the haul

The Flying Snail

Iarnród - between Ballydehob and Schull 1939

Iarnród – between Ballydehob and Schull 1939

In the heydays of transport by rail, the south of Ireland was served by a network of lines radiating out from Cork. Most of these were scenically picturesque – the nature of the countryside saw to that – and all were imbued with Stories, still recounted with relish by the local people who remember them, or whose mothers and fathers remembered them. Here’s one of the stories – told about the Chetwynd Viaduct, coming out of Cork on the way to Bandon.

Chetwynd Viaduct today - a scheduled monument

Chetwynd Viaduct today

This structure was designed by Charles Nixon, a pupil of Isambard Kingdom Brunel, and built between 1849 and 1851. It’s still in place today, passing over the main  N71 road from Skibbereen, and is a scheduled monument. The railway, track and track bed have all gone. For quite a while after its construction it was known as “The Bowlers’ Everest”. Alert followers of these posts will know about Road Bowling already (don’t forget to pronounce it correctly: Road Bowelling) – a very skilful and ancient Irish sport involving hurling a heavy iron ‘bullet’ along a road, and getting it from one place to another in the shortest number of throws. For Bowellers, the viaduct presented an obvious challenge: to throw the ‘bullet’ on to it. This was attempted many times year after year, but it took a mighty man to do it: Mick Barry, widely acknowledged as the greatest bowlplayer ever. My informant was careful to add “…This has been said by many and denied by very few…” The Cork Examiner takes up the tale:

“…Barry conquered the Bowler’s Everest, the Chetwynd Viaduct on the Cork-Bandon Road on Saint Patrick’s Day, March 17th, 1955. He lofted the 16oz bowl on to the 100 foot high parapet; an incredible feat which required almost superhuman strength, virtually defying the laws of physics. This feat was witnessed by thousands of spectators…”

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Bowlers’ Everest – the viaduct at Chetwynd and a 16oz ‘bullet’

Less commonly cited is another Chetwynd story: on September 8th, 1985, watched by over 10,000 people, Hans Bohllen from West Germany lofted a 28oz bowl clean over the viaduct, clearing the top by ten feet.

clonjunctionLines from Cork eventually penetrated surprisingly far into the south west extremities of the state: to Kinsale, Bandon, Courtmacsherry, Clonakilty, Bantry, Baltimore, and – on a 3ft gauge narrow line snaking out of Skibbereen – to our two local towns of Ballydehob and Schull. It’s worth mentioning the colourful history of railway track gauges in Ireland: the standard now is 5ft 3in – something shared in the world with only Brazil, Australia and New Zealand – but earlier lines had 4ft 8½ins [UK and Europe standard], 6ft 2ins and 5ft 2ins, and when trams were first introduced to Dublin they had 5ft 2 and a bit.

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Local history: plaque on the viaduct at Ballydehob

In 1925 all the railway lines in the new Irish Free State were amalgamated to become the Great Southern Railway, and in 1945 the system was consolidated with road transport concerns and trams to become Córas Iompair Éireann. The logo used by CIÉ until 1964 was affectionately (and, perhaps, cynically) known as The Flying Snail.

Córas Iompair Éireann - the national rail and bus company - logo used between the 1940s and 1964: known affectionately as 'The Flying Snail'

‘The Flying Snail’

ballytrainmcThe line out to us here in West Cork was particularly eccentric and would have been a magnet for present day railway enthusiasts if it had survived. In places the narrow gauge track ran along the main road; it reached speeds of up to 15 miles per hour… But how we all wish it was still possible to catch a little train out of Schull, Ballydehob or Skibbereen and arrive in Cork in a bit. It would be grand!

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Water stop – with a view…

schull station

Leaving Schull Station, 1939

skibb station

All aboard at Skibbereen!

Going for the Messages

Inside Miss Clerke's, Skibbereen

Inside Miss Clerke’s, Skibbereen

When we were growing up in Ireland our mothers would send us up to the shops for messages. Clutching the coins she entrusted to us we would give the note to the shopkeeper, or recite what she wanted and he would duly hand over the message wrapped up in brown paper and tied with string.

Messages I remember: 10 Craven A, a yard of knickers elastic, 2oz of cheddar, 5 codeine, 1lb of broken biscuits, a packet of Bisto, a pair of brown shoelaces, a bottle of paraffin, a nice fresh piece of plaice.

Need a chamber pot?

Need a chamber pot?

Found it!

   Found it!

Nowadays we go off to the brilliant local supermarket (ultra efficient but with a wonderful variety of local produce) or the well-organized hardware store with its stocked and gleaming shelves, where the shopping experience is similar to that in Canada. But the shops of my childhood are still here too, in the small towns and villages. You can find hardware stores stuffed to the ceiling with everything you might need heaped in teetering piles. Ballydehob has one, My Beautiful Launderette, where we have dropped off our laundry and bought glue, mousetraps, nails, tools and flower seeds. In Bantry, when we can’t find the exact light bulb we are looking for in the airy modern electrical supply shop we can be sure to track it down in Vickery’s, a shambolic space loaded to the scuppers with kitchen ware, hinges, table lamps, shovels, and soap dispensers.

My Beautiful Launderette, Ballydehob

My Beautiful Launderette, Ballydehob

While modern boutiques abound in the larger towns, some clothing and haberdashery stores retain an old-fashioned charm, with most of the goods shelved in plastic bags behind glass-fronted counters.

Shoes, hats and First Communion dresses

Shoes, hats and First Communion dresses

Perhaps our favourite is Miss Clerke’s in Skibbereen. It is unchanged from the small grocery shops of the 1950s, with a little of everything neatly arranged around the walls. We go in there to buy bonbons – Robert has a liking for the apple-flavoured ones – although we have been out of luck lately. “The traveller,” she tells us, “hasn’t been able to get the apple ones for a while now.” We go home happily chewing on lemon ones (a ‘quarter’ in a paper bag) and fantasizing about life as a bonbon traveller.

clerke

Comhaltas

comhaltas2

Comhaltas Ceoltóirí Éireann [Finola tells me that this is how you say it: kole tuss kyole tory air run – the literal translation is the Society of Musicians of Ireland] is an organisation founded in 1951 to ‘preserve and promote Irish traditional music and culture’. Its activities are very much in evidence – not just in Ireland, but anywhere in the world where Irish people have settled. They were evident in Skibbereen last week, when CCE featured some of its top class performers in music, dance, song and storytelling on a whistle-stop tour around the whole island of Ireland. We were fortunate that their venue in the south west was on the doorstep here.

tour poster

It was a most inhospitable October night: gales and floods were rife across Ireland and Britain. Yet the Skibb Town Hall was full to capacity, and the concert was well worth braving the elements for. The whole programme was polished and professionally produced: not a wrong note was played, nor a dance step placed out of kilter. It was a most memorable, satisfying and entertaining treat for the senses.

This was a showcase for the principal work that CCE has been carrying out for over sixty years: training people young and older in the crafts of playing and dancing in the traditional style. Once this would have happened naturally – through families and generations handing on the skills and the tunes. The fact that a CCE was needed and is now so established suggests that there was a danger of The Tradition dying out, or at least becoming diluted or rarified. This may or may not have been the case – for decades and all over the world collectors of folk culture have been convinced that they are recording the dying remnants of customs and lore, but perhaps there are always undercurrents of renewal which happen naturally: many of the most skilled exponents of The Music today learn their craft in the ‘old’ way – at the hearthside from parents, uncles, aunts and cousins. In our electronic age, however, lifestyles are radically changing and the formalised classes and competitions which CCE runs, and which are within easy reach of every community, can only be for the good. The latent talents shine through in performances such as those at Skibbereen. I taught myself to play the melodeon and concertina at the age of fifteen (and I’m still learning): now I’m watching far younger people perform with skills which outshine any I might have at this stage of my life, and who are storing up great potential for their own futures.

The showcase of Comhaltas talent at Skibbereen: the dancer on the left is Fernando Marcos from the Buenos Aries Branch of CCE!

The showcase of Comhaltas talent at Skibbereen: the dancer on the left is Fernando Marcos from the Buenos Aries Branch of CCE!

As I drove back to Nead an Iolair through the lashing rain squalls I pondered our own weekly music sessions in the pubs of Ballydehob. They are rough affairs: plenty of wrong notes, certainly, and arguments on tuning, timing, song names and ornamentation; very little polish… And, while we play mainly Irish traditional music, very few of us are Irish. Nonetheless we do (mostly) enjoy the experiences, and the sessions maintain a life of their own. However you do it, it’s great to keep The Music going…

Friday night session at Levis's, Ballydehob

friday night

Keeping The Music going – session style