"Lagan Love" by Peter Murphy A Must Read for Chicagoans

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Relationships. Myth and reality. What is true? Do appearances deceive? Do we know ourselves enough that we can know when we are being sincere or not? Can we lose ourselves in appearances; what we create, the persona we present to others? All of this comes into question in Peter Murphy’s novel, “Lagan Love” (Fiction Studio, June 7, 2011)

Set in Dublin, in a country of old history and faerie stories, of myth and legend, the characters alternate in their too real grasp of reality and their fear of the possibilities. What is real? What is not? When a young woman arrives in country, looking for a change of scene, for adventure, she quickly becomes caught up in a plot of her own making; a tangled skein of half-truths and deception masked by the excitement of a new place and a whole new beginning.

Is it only when you are away from home that you can become lost in making yourself over to better suit this new beginning, or was the threatened potential in you all along?

What begins as just a woman’s search to escape the mundane through travel becomes a dark tale of those she meets, how she changes until she no longer recognizes herself. Is this for the better? Are there lessons learned? Or has she become one of those who used her, in her turn, a user? This is up to the reader to decide. There is no shyness or pretension here. About sex, alcoholism, myth, love; relationships; this story makes you think. Are you a manipulator or the manipulated? Can you be both? Must you be either in any relationship? At time uncomfortable but always riveting.

In this first book by Dublin born, Peter Murphy, the story’s setting drives the plot. Only in Ireland, could reality and myth become so cleverly entwined. But beyond that, the story is honest and intense. There are no heros here. Every character is flawed and darkly so, but never painted as destined to remain so. Every character in this story is always looking in that mirror of self-perception, or actively aware of avoiding it. This is the story of a princess and a poet. He lives a primal existence on the dark and drunken edges, but hers becomes no less dark.

The author holds that mirror up for the reader too. Look there. What do you see? You may not be like any of the characters, but what kind of character are you? Are you brave enough to do more than observe life; to go down those dark alleys of the human psyche, to get dirty, then step back in surprise at the depth of darkness you may see in yourself?

Does geography and history make us who we are? Or do we change- are we formed by where we are, changed by who we meet? Do we, can we remodel ourselves to fit our own circumstances selfishly and then, manipulate circumstances to suit our own end? What price fame? What cost relationship? Everyone likes to think he is different- special, an original. What price to pay for that?

The title intrigues. “Lagan Love”. While Lagan may refer to the River Lagan, in Northern Ireland, the definition in the World English Dictionary: “goods or wreckage on the sea bed, sometimes attached to a buoy to permit recovery” makes me think- Perhaps, we are the goods attached in relationship so that we are not lost at sea...The best books are not forgotten because you can never stop thinking beyond the story. This is true of “Lagan Love”. Murphy is a natural storyteller. I look forward to reading more.

By Bonnie Jean Adams

Chicago Culture & Events Examiner

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The Navigatio Brendani: A Medieval best Seller!

Picture from: http://ics.villanova.edu/in_saint_brendan.htm

Source: http://www.jstor.org/pss/3297848

My Birthday Wishes:

Yes, another year has ticked away and, as is my habit, I look at what has changed and what remains the same.

I feel the same as I did as a younger man but I don’t look it. My wife tells me I look distinguished and I appreciate her for that. I think I look like some adult and I am not yet ready to see myself as that!

I maybe older but wiser?

A lot of things have happened since I was born – some good and some not so good.

The world outside is still warring with itself in the time honoured way of old savage tribes but I don’t believe that represents all that humanity is – it represents what happens when we trade out autonomy for inclusion in the herd. And, like now, when times are more daunting, we seek the security of the herd regardless of the cost.

As the years go by I find that I am less inclined to do that. Not because I am becoming more noble! I just cannot rationalise the harm we do each other anymore. We are better than we behave – I have to believe that!

So, for my birthday, my wish is that we all take a few moments today to reflect. Shut out all the noise and buzz and the yammering of the world and spend a few moments inside of yourself. Stop and look at where we are going and the cost of progresses and ambitions.

Life is a grand thing – all in all. Sweet and bitter, it is not about where you are going and how fast you can get there. I think it is about all of the great people you get to meet along the way. All the laughing and sharing of that which we all have inside of us.

I will spend the day with the little people in my head and, if I don’t waste the day, I will be closer to bringing their story out into the world.

That, I have decided, is the best thing I can do for you and me.

Best wishes for today and tomorrow!

P.

The World turned upside down - like always!

In 1649
To St. George’s Hill,
A ragged band they called the Diggers
Came to show the people’s will
They defied the landlords
They defied the laws
They were the dispossessed reclaiming what was theirs

We come in peace they said
To dig and sow
We come to work the lands in common
And to make the waste ground grow
This earth divided
We will make whole
So it will be
A common treasury for all

The sin of property
We do disdain
No man has any right to buy and sell
The earth for private gain
By theft and murder
They took the land
Now everywhere the walls
Spring up at their command

They make the laws
To chain us well
The clergy dazzle us with heaven
Or they damn us into hell
We will not worship
The God they serve
The God of greed who feed the rich
While poor folk starve

We work we eat together
We need no swords
We will not bow to the masters
Or pay rent to the lords
Still we are free
Though we are poor
You Diggers all stand up for glory
Stand up now

From the men of property
The orders came
They sent the hired men and troopers
To wipe out the Diggers’ claim
Tear down their cottages
Destroy their corn
They were dispersed
But still the vision lingers on

You poor take courage
You rich take care
This earth was made a common treasury
For everyone to share
All things in common
All people one
We come in peace
The orders came to cut them down

Lyrics by Leon Rosselson

Mental Health Awareness Week

Having danced with my own host of Demons I put together the following to celebrate a few truths about this subject. And for those who might resent the use of the word ‘madness’ – get over it! I think it is better to be ‘mad’ than to conform to the ‘sanity’ around us.

"Sanity remains defined simply by the ability to cope with insane conditions." Ana Castillo

"Mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of, but stigma and bias shame us all." Bill Clinton

"But you learn to smother the living breathing soul, go deaf to it, and this violence to the self is what is commonly called sanity in the places where I have lived." –Philip Ó Ceallaigh, Walking to the Danube

"We are all born mad. Some remain so." –Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot

"I am not mad; I would to heaven I were! For then, ’tis like I should forget myself; O, if I could, what grief should I forget!" –William Shakespeare, The Life and Death of King John

"A man who is 'of sound mind' is one who keeps the inner madman under lock and key." –Paul Valéry, Mauvaises pensées et autres

"And of course you are mad, if by a madman we mean a mind that questions and rejects every civilized norm." –Stephen Fry, Revenge

“But I don’t want to go among mad people,” Alice remarked.
“Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat. “We’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.”
“How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice.
“You must be,” said the Cat. “or you wouldn’t have come here.” –Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

"Insanity—a perfectly rational adjustment to an insane world." –RD Laing

"Insane people are always sure that they are fine. It is only the sane people who are willing to admit that they are crazy." –Nora Ephron

"I suppose that the human mind can only stand so much grief and anguish. After that the fuses blow." –Fynn, Mister God, This is Anna

"Show me a sane man and I will cure him for you." –Carl Jung

"Our society is run by insane people for insane objectives. … I think we’re being run by maniacs for maniacal ends … and I think I’m liable to be put away as insane for expressing that. That’s what’s insane about it." –John Lennon

"What sane person could live in this world and not be crazy?" –Ursula K. LeGuin

"The question is: what is a sane man to do in an insane society?" –Joseph Heller, Catch-22

"Sanity is a cozy lie." –Susan Sontag

"Insanity in individuals is something rare, but in groups, parties, nations, and epochs, it is the rule." –Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil

Think about it. Talk about it. Celebrate it. But don't suffer it alone!

Happily ever after?

Once upon a time many of the books I read ended with the tried and true assurance that: ‘they all lived happily ever after.’ For years I really wanted to believe it – that if you were good and nice that life would reward you. Conversely – if things went badly it was your own fault. I was raised in the Irish Catholic regime where guilt was encouraged and unworthiness was the birthright of Original Sin.

My early life was not always a rose garden. Far too often it was buffeted by the storms that erupted in those around me and I looked to books for some reassurance and I preferred those stories with strong morals and happy endings.

Since then, my views have changed.

But this remains an issue for anyone who would consider writing because a great many people will expect their investment in reading a story be rewarded and that reward must meet predetermined expectations. Never mind the idea that a good book could open doors and show things from a new perspective – when we consume we want guaranteed satisfaction. I understand that. We live in chaos and will grasp at anything that might help us deny that. I am convinced that too often we read to reinforce our convictions and shun opportunities to broaden or change our views.

That said there is nothing worse that struggling through the mental gyrations of some overly-complex work that cannot make up its mind what it is but there has to be some middle ground in this and in all things.

For me, finding this is the role of good Fiction. It should entice us to take the opportunity to step out from all that we insulate ourselves with and wander through worlds that we would never visit physically. It should challenge us and it should make us different. But too often books are measured by their popularity rather than their effect.

And for many years books that were not popular simply vanished from the shelves – consigned to discount bins and dusty warehouses. Thankfully that is changing. One of the great advantages of ebooks is that there is no cost in keeping the book around until it finds a loving audience. This was the history of Jane Austen’s writing – her early sales were unspectacular but back then, Publishing was more elegant and committed to promoting Literature in all of its forms. Since then, like most human effort, it has become dominated by the instant gratification of immediate profit.

But with change comes challenge and I wonder which path I will take. The responses to my first novel, Lagan Love, have reinforced much of what I have said – some love it for the questions and reflections it provokes and others are uncomfortable with what confronts them in its pages.

Should I be brave and push on and out into all the Fiction can allow or should I find a niche and serve up the same fare over and over?

In the rest of my life I have made a career of saying that; ‘the Emperor has no clothes,’ so I doubt that will change too much but writers, just like the rest of us, do need to eat on a regular basis. But for now my second novel is shaping up much like the first and I look forward to the reactions it evokes. Perhaps, if the Gods and Fate are not offended, I might still have a chance at a ‘happily ever after!’

About Brian O’Nolan/ Flann O’Brien/ Myles na gCopaleen

Brian O’Nolan, who wrote under the pseudonyms of Flann O’Brien and Myles na gCopaleen (among others) was born on October 5th, 1911 in Strabane, Co. Tyrone

He went to school at Blackrock College and University College, Dublin where he was active in the Literary & Historical Society. He contributed to Comhthrom Féinne, the student magazine and completed an MA thesis.

O’Nolan launched Blather magazine with his brother Ciarán and contributed to it under various pseudonyms. He entered Civil Service in 1935, serving as the Private Secretary to the Minister of Local Government and later as Principal Officer for town planning before retiring under pressure on February 19, 1953.

At Swim-Two-Birds was an immediate critical success on publication in 1939 although this soon dampened as the publisher’s, Longmans’ warehouse was bombed and most of the edition lost. O’Nolan commenced writing his ‘Cruiskeen Lawn’ column for the Irish Times under Editor R. M. Smyllie using the pseudonym ‘Myles na gCopaleen’ after the character in Bouccicault. The columns appeared (from October4 1940 until April 1,1960), for the first year in Irish and afterwards in English, in a series of raids on solecisms and pretensions.

He unsuccessfully submitted The Third Policeman to various publishers and concocted various stories to explain publishers lack of interest in it. He wrote a play, Faustus Kelly (Abbey Theatre, January 25, 1943), and then another, The Insect Play(also 1943). An Béal Bocht (1941) was published using the Myles na gCopaleen pen name.

O’Nolan married Evelyn McDonnell on December 2, 1948 He published stories and articles including ‘The Martyr’s Crown’ (Envoy 1950); lambasted ‘Titostalinatarianism’ of Tostal Festival, 1953; contributed ‘A Bash in the Tunnel’ in the "James Joyce Special Number" of Envoy(April 1951). He made the first modern Bloomsday pilgrimage with John Ryan, Patrick Kavanagh, and Anthony Cronin on June 16,1954.

As Flann O’Brien, O’Nolan issued The Hard Life (1961);An Béal Bocht was reissued as The Poor Mouth (1964). He issued The Dalkey Archive (1965), incorporating material rescued from The Third Policeman. It was dramatised by Hugh Leonard as The Saints Go Cycling In (1965).

He wrote sporadically for Radio Teilifís Éireann; TV dramas included, ‘The Dead Spit of Kelly’, ‘Flight’, and ‘The Time Freddy Retired’. He also scripted ‘O’Dea’s Yer Man’. He left a novel, ‘Slattery’s Sago Saga’ unfinished at the time of his death on 1 April 1966. The Third Policeman (1967) was issued posthumously and has resurrected O’Nolan’s reputation latterly being featured on the television series Lost.

From: http://www.flannobrien.net/