The man who kissed the pope's toe: `N.B. it was very sweet'

Timothy Fanning

Timothy Fanning

William J. Walsh: Archbishop of Dublin, 1841 1921. By Thomas J. Morrissey. Four Courts Press. 404pp, £30.00

William J. Walsh became Archbishop of Dublin in 1885, when Parnell was at the height of his power, and died in office in 1921 on the eve of independence. He was the last of the great 19th-century Archbishops of Dublin. His father had been a friend and political follower of Daniel O'Connell, and one of Walsh's earliest memories was of "being patted on the head by the great man, and of conversations on political matters between him and his father". When he took office - reluctantly, it might be added - he quickly set about establishing himself as the leading episcopal spokesman on land reform and Home Rule.

This did not endear him to the British government which had, according to an unofficial representative in Rome, "a right to expect that as important a post as the see of Dublin should be occupied by a man of loyal and moderate views". Morrissey paints a persuasive portrait of Walsh as the "great link figure" between O'Connell and de Valera - who succeeded him as Chancellor of the National University of Ireland. Unlike Cardinal Cullen, whose first loyalty was to Rome, Walsh always sought to identify the Church with the mood of the nationalist majority. Having witnessed the collapse of the Irish Parliamentary Party, he threw his weight behind Sinn Fein as early as the South Longford by-election of May 1917. The significance of this book is that it shows how Walsh's nationalism evolved with the mood of the country and paved the way for the identification of church and state in independent Ireland.

READ MORE

Robert O'Byrne

Lord Kildare's Grand Tour 1766-1769. By Elizabeth FitzGerald. Collins Press. 153pp, £14.99

Eldest surviving son of the first Duke of Leinster, at the age of 17 Lord Kildare set out on a three-year grand tour which took him through France, Italy, the Holy Roman Empire and Germany. Initially chaperoned by his maternal aunt Lady Holland and other members of her family, within 12 months he had become sufficiently confident to be accompanied only by a Swiss tutor, Mr Bolle.

Throughout his time away from Ireland, he wrote regularly to his mother Emily and a selection of these letters have now been published, linked by the late Elizabeth FitzGerald's explanatory narrative. While the correspondence obviously has a certain historical interest, regretfully it is less than fascinating. Lord Kildare was a dutiful, hard-working and well-intentioned young man but possessed of little imagination and almost no descriptive powers. Too often his letters are simply lists of places visited and people seen, and there are only the occasional insights or amusing vignettes - such as the remark, after writing that he had kissed the Pope's toe, "N.B. it was very sweet." Having seen the future Queen of France, Marie Antoinette in Vienna, he declared her "mighty handsome", a major compliment since most other women Lord Kildare encountered, especially in Italy, he found ugly. Such insights into his personal tastes are what provide this book with its charm.

Brendan O Cathaoir

Padraig O Fathaigh's War of In- dependence: Recollections of a Galway Gaelic Leaguer. Edited by Timothy G. McMahon. Cork University Press. 106pp, £8.95

Padraig O Fathaigh's narrative provides a fascinating insight into the Tan war at local level and from the inside of jails. Written in a matter-of-fact style, it charts the disintegration of the RIC. O Fathaigh distinguished between "inoffensive" constables and "evilly-disposed" members of the force. When his sister died in 1921 her coffin was seized by RIC men, who burned the family home on the night of her funeral. During an attack on a party of officers and friends, on the other hand, the Volunteers saved the life of Lady Gregory's daughter. However, Winifred Barrington - of Glenstal, Co Limerick - killed in an IRA ambush, was not so lucky. This is another historical document made available in attractive format in the Irish Narratives series. While skilfully edited, many individuals referred to by their initials remain unidentified. A tiny caveat about a big word: Penmaenmawr is mis-spelt.

Michael Seaver

Writing Dancing Righting Dancing: articulations on a choreographic process. By Diana Theodores. Firkin Crane. 72pp, £15

Dance writers constantly strive to balance description and analysis in reflecting the ephemeral nature of dance. In Writing Dancing Righting Dance, Diana Theodores goes no further than providing articulations on a choreographic process and, like a skilled curator, gathers fascinating fragments of a professional time-out by two Irish choreographers. Under Tedd Senmon Robinson's mentorship, Paul Johnson and Mary Nunan spent three weeks at Firkin Crane striving to shake off creative habits, working with dancers in an unpressured environment and focussing on their own aesthetic and creative make-up. This book provides a record, commentary and context for the work through Theodores's writings and Derek Spiers's photographs.

It doesn't sound promising but the ensuing narrative, framed by scatty design and fuelled by Big Brother-like voyeurism, draws the reader into the artists' dilemmas. Paul ("I would describe myself as confident, intelligent and inquisitive") needs time away from the production conveyer belt, whereas Mary ("I'll have to rely on myself and on very vigorous dialogue") is trying to reassess her vocabulary. The fact that both are struggling with the very essence of what they say as artists makes it all the more fascinating. It may change how they work, but the three-week exercise values the journey taken rather than the end result. And that is probably how the book should be read.