'Twas the week of two interviews. A near-hour-long radio conversation with a single subject is a rare enough exercise; how extraordinary, then, that a pair of them last week should have sparked such widespread and high-flown debate, which is continuing right up to Christmas.
The interviewees in question are, of course, Dr Paddy Leahy and the Archbishop of Dublin, Dr Desmond Connell. These two old men represent, perhaps, the two poles of what used to be the central debate about the nature of Ireland. Rumours of that debate's demise have proved to be greatly exaggerated.
The prelate starred on The Last Word (Radio Ireland, Monday to Friday), where Eamon Dunphy conducted a well-mannered and revealing interview. This chat had been scheduled before the most recent controversy - presumably in keeping with Dunphy's stated intent to provide an outlet for otherwise-suppressed conservative views. Dr Connell has since apologised for adopting the s-word, and it's not hard to see why it has caused such offence. Still, while the tone of this discussion is not overly Christian - and most people have an (inflated) idea of ecumenism as a Good Thing - it's hard to believe that very many people are exercised about the theology of taking part in a Communion which is relevant only to a minority of Irish Protestants.
In fact, it puts President McAleese's commitment to reconciliation in some context. The first major symbolic statement of her presidency is an ecumenical "comment" about rather lofty realms of theory. It's of disproportionate interest to Irish Times readers; I'm not sure it's a hot topic in east Belfast.
The quite gripping interview with Dr Paddy Leahy on Tonight with Vincent Browne (RTE Radio 1, Monday to Thursday) was, in many ways, far more provocative. In a largely biographical conversation, this stalwart of liberal Ireland put his feelings about euthanasia in a profoundly personal context, and some of it was disquieting.
Dr Leahy, for example, said that when there was a danger that he would be confined to a wheelchair with hip trouble, the prospect was enough to make him consider ending his life. He went on, in no uncertain terms, to say this referred only to himself, and he spoke admiringly of "those marvellous people" who cope with life in a wheelchair; nonetheless, the sound of Ireland's leading euthanasia advocate speaking like this won't have reassured disabled people who fear that euthanasia is step one to a Final Solution for the crippled.
Describing himself as "emotionally fragile", Dr Leahy kept his cool until the end, when Browne read a letter from one of the GP's patients in Ballyfermot; his pleasure in the admiration of "such good people" was choked and clearly genuine - like everything in this extraordinary interview.
The cap on it was that no sooner had Dr Leahy faded out then we were treated to a cheerful ad from Father Brian D'Arcy promoting some musical special he's presenting!
In the last three months, Browne has firmly proved that life goes on after an election. A list of the excellent, less overtly political programmes he has done since the summer break would take up another column. Well done.
Finally, on the traditional basis of "to each according to his need", this column rarely extends a compliment to Gerry Ryan. However, 'tis the season and all that - and what with not having tiring rehearsals for a panto this year, the great man might even have time to read this.
Truth is, partly through his efforts and partly through those of the competition, I listened to Gerry Ryan more in 1997 than ever before, and probably more than any other broadcaster. What's more, I enjoyed it: among other things, the Gerry Ryan Show (2FM, Monday to Friday) is the only place on the radio where you can hear a host and his callers speak affectionately, intelligently and realistically about children - a particular pet topic of mine, I'm afraid.
This can have a downside. Ryan's insistence of late on playing that Teletubbies song for his nippers and others in the audience is losing him listeners in our house. Every time they say "Eh-Oh", the slightly confused two-year-old drops what she's doing, switches off the radio and turns on the telly. Who's gonna argue?
Happy Christmas.
