Reference /Conor Brady: The project that has generated The Encyclopaedia of Ireland has been a gleam-in-the-eye for years at Gill and Macmillan. Perhaps it was an inevitable undertaking for them.
This is not only the longest-established publishing house in the country; it has also sustained, by far, the widest scope and range in its titles. There are few aspects of Irish life down the decades that have not been covered in its publication lists.
The end product is engaging, enlightening, but also, in some respects, bemusing. It reflects a giant task of organisation. There are 16 senior consultant editors, 50 consultant contributors and 950 writers.
In its physical dimensions it is a behemoth of a book. It runs to more than 1,200 pages including indices. There are about 8,500 entries in the general index. It weighs half a stone.
The general editor says: "The Encylopaedia of Ireland is a book of reference." He calls it "a testament to Irish achievement and a calling card for the new century".
The dust jacket is more lyrical, as it is the duty of dust jackets to be. The Encylopaedia of Ireland, it says, is "a celebration of Irish achievement in all fields of human endeavour. Never before have the accomplishments of an entire people been encapsulated so comprehensively, meticulously and succinctly on the pages of a single book."
The Concise Oxford Dictionary defines an encyclopaedia as "a book . . . giving information on many subjects . . . or on many aspects of one subject".
An encyclopaedia, therefore, need not make any claim to completeness. Just as well. This Encyclopaedia gives information on many, but by no means all aspects of Ireland, its story and its people. It is not a directory or a dictionary.
It is, nonetheless, a shining array of scholarship and expertise. Its consultant editors and consultant contributors are, probably without exception, among the elite of their various fields. Names taken at random from the credits: Jonathan Bardon, Terence Brown, Richard Pine, George Eogan, Philip Lane, Tom Garvin, Dáibhí Ó Cróinín, Fintan Vallely, Susan McKenna-Lawlor, Maureen Gaffney, Patrick Hannon and many more.
Among the rank-and-file contributors there are those who will be unknown to the average reader and there are some which strike this reviewer, frankly, as eccentric. But that is hardly to be wondered at in a cohort of almost 1,000 people. Editors have to choose. And the generally high standards that have been attained are impressive. One will search long and hard for errors of fact, for literals or typographical errors.
The editors have also achieved that most elusive goal in a collective exercise of this sort - a high degree of consistency in style which yet allows each contribution to retain its individuality and authority. There is an evenness in presentation and a consistent balancing of viewpoints that are only attained through painstaking reading and editing. The result is that it is virtually impossible to find an entry that is capricious or inappropriately judgmental.
The Encyclopaedia's strengths are in the arts, literature, history and culture. Its weaknesses are in contemporary institutions, administration and public life. It acquits itself honourably in its treatment of sport, medicine and the sciences. Creditably, it proclaims an all-Ireland perspective. But the narrative of the events in the North since the late 1960s - the Troubles - is unreasonably compacted. This is, after all, the single most contentious and traumatic thread that has run through the life of the island over the past 30 years.
One might reason, for example, that the creation of a new police service, in the aftermath of the Belfast Agreement, should rank as a significant feature in the landscape of contemporary Ireland. But the PSNI gets just four words in its own right - See Royal Ulster Constabulary.
Still in Northern Ireland, the Alliance Party has an entry but the Women's Coalition has to be content with a mention under the general heading of Northern Ireland. There is no Rosemary Nelson or Pat Finucane. A great many well-known political figures, especially among those who have figured in unionist politics, are not included. Where is Harold McCusker? Reg Empey? Dick Ferguson? Roy Bradford?
The general editor says that the encyclopaedia "acknowledges the protracted struggles of Ireland's history, but its principal theme is to celebrate the gift to the culture of the world of a vibrant and irrepressible people." That claim is fair and accurate. But it belies the parallel claim that it is "comprehensive".
The emphasis is on Ireland's artistic and cultural attainments at the expense of the more prosaic and workaday elements which have gone to make up the national identity. Thus, there are 208 entries under "Classical Music" but only 32 under "Food and Drink". We find 130 under "Architecture" and a mere 26 under "Agriculture". There are more than 740 entries for "Literature in English" and "Literature in Irish" combined. But there are only 29 for "Education". There are 300 entries for "Traditional Music" but there are only 27 for "Aviation".
By definition, an editor takes on an unwinnable challenge in deciding what - and who - to put in and leave out. It is akin to making out a party list. No matter how many one invites there will always be those who cannot be accommodated. The Encylopaedia of Ireland will commend itself to some, perhaps, on the basis of whether those who represent their personal view of the zeitgeist are included. Conversely, some with a view of themselves as part of Ireland's story of achievement will be disappointed.
There are two categories of inclusion - as a separate subject or in the general narrative. Searching for references to individuals can thus be challenging. For example, there is no personal entry for the Aga Khan. But he can be found under "Shergar". Similarly, there is no personal entry for the world-famous trainer Dermot Weld. But he is mentioned under "horse racing". The director and producer, Michael Colgan, does not have a subject entry. But he can be found under "Gate Theatre". Harry Crosbie, who might be thought of as having made some contribution to Irish entertainment and popular culture with the development of the Point Theatre and Vicar Street, is not included.
The general editor squares up to the impossibility of completely representing the complex entity that is modern Ireland. The primary focus, he writes, is on "movements, events and people now in the past". However, he adds, "the needs of a comprehensive reference work would not be served by excluding living persons and present-day concerns". That is not a wholly convincing alibi to cover all of the gaps.
For example, Ireland's diplomatic service is referred to only obliquely. There is no Joseph Walshe or Sean Donlon, no Dermot Gallagher or Noel Dorr. The poet Eavan Boland has a personal entry. But there is no mention of her distinguished father, F. H. Boland, who was Secretary of the Department of External Affairs (as it was known at the time) and President of the General Assembly of the United Nations.
Other oddities strike as one reads on. There is Jon Kenny the comedian. But there is neither Enda, the Leader of the Opposition not Pat, the broadcaster. There is no P.J. Mara. But there is Jean Paul Marat. (Apparently he was represented in a waxworks opened by Madame Tussaud in Dublin in 1804).
There is no Liam Lawlor, although we have James Fintan Lalor (1807-1849) and his brother, Peter (1823-1889) - who, being from Co Laois, and allowing for a spelling variant of the name, may perhaps have been antecedents of the troubled Dublin TD.
We have Brian Feeney and John Feeney, better known as the film director, John Ford. But there is no mention of Charles "Chuck" Feeney, the Irish- American philanthropist whose millions in donations have supported and transformed higher education in Ireland.
The Encyclopaedia is strong on history. Yet there are curious omissions in the pantheon of Irish historians. There is no Desmond Williams, no Robin Dudley Edwards, no Gearóid Ó Tuathaigh, no F.X. Martin, no Dorothy McArdle, no John A. Murphy, no Joe Lee. There is no Marianne Elliott who, apart from being a distinguished scholar and writer, is also director of the Institute of Irish Studies at Liverpool.
Professional curiosity leads one to the news media. Bruce Arnold, Vincent Browne and Fintan O'Toole have personal entries - as distinct from general listings - but there is none for Tim Pat Coogan, Paul Williams, Eoghan Harris, Kevin Myers or Ireland's most distinguished foreign correspondent, Conor O'Clery. There is no mention of Olivia O'Leary, Lara Marlowe, Orla Guerin or Maggie O'Kane. Niall O'Dowd, the most influential Irish publisher in the US, is not listed.
So what is the Encylopaedia for? To answer that question it is best to go back to the affirmation that is a "celebration" a survey of "achievement" by a "vibrant and irrepressible people".
Approached on this clear understanding it will commend itself for the sheer enjoyment it gives, the breadth of subjects that it covers and the intriguing detail it offers, often on arcane topics. It offers a journey through the Irish psyche and through the making of the Irish race which is stimulating, informative and rewarding.
Where else could one learn so readily about Pilib Bocht Ó hUiginn (died 1487), an Observatine Franciscan friar who left a legacy of religious poems in the bardic style?
Where would one turn if one were asked about "Mac na Michcomhairle", a "late 17th Century, anonymous romantic tale, probably composed in South West Ulster . . . in burlesque mood and mock-heroic language"?
If one were asked about "The Irish Hudibras", the Encyclopaedia would confirm that it was "a coarse verse travesty of the Sixth book of Virgil's Aeneid, ingeniously adapted to the social and political scene in Fingal in the 1680s".
The Encyclopaedia will tell one about "Lady Betty" (1750-1807), the female executioner who hanged 25 men in one day in the Roscommon Gaol. It will refresh your knowledge of Nahum Tate, (1652-1715), the Dublin-born playwright who became Poet Laureate and who wrote a "notorious" happy-ending version of King Lear.
Alas, it will not tell you who Brendan Corish was. Or that there is someone called Pat Rabbitte who currently leads the Labour Party.
It will tell you that Rock Fox is the stage name of the jazz musician, Charles Meredith. But it will not tell you that Billy Fox was a senator, a Protestant and the only member of the Oireachtas murdered by the IRA in the Troubles.
It will not tell you about the years that Michael Dargan spent building up Aer Lingus or when Michael Killeen steered the Industrial Development Authority through the times of little economic growth and with international investment thin on the ground.
Having been absorbed by the Encylopaedia for the couple of weeks permitted to a reviewer, one marvels at the feat of assembling so much eclectic information, accurately and in order, between hard covers. It is wonderfully and imaginatively illustrated with many novel documents, pictures and fragments. But it lists heavily to one side of Ireland's story. When one asks oneself if it captures the reality of Ireland, one is reminded of the schoolboy who has finished dissecting the frog. There are lots of interesting bits around, but he's still not sure that he's found what makes it jump.
Conor Brady is a former editor of The Irish Times
Encyclopaedia of Ireland General Editor, Brian Lalor Gill & Macmillan, 1,218pp. €65