Publishing, and Pubs
In Honor of Nuala O'Faolain and the Luck of the Irish
When I first met Nuala it was not through chance. It was barely the 2000s and I had read her memoir, Are You Somebody? faster than I had read anything in a while. Nuala had decided to give the USA a try after the book became a best-seller worldwide. I saw the ad in TimeOut New York, which as a 20-something was a cultural bible of happenings at the time. There in the listing, it said you could submit a piece of writing and if the author liked it you would get into one of the ten or so available spots at Glucksman Ireland House at NYU. I submitted, and to my surprise I got in. I wrote about reading Notes From Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky. I wrote it in a panic, but I did it. When I got into class, I was the only person with NO irish heritage in the room.
It is an Irish writer who gave me courage to write, and it is her I want to honor with the shortest of posts I can manage. Nuala was not a perfect person, I guess, because nobody is, but she was a phenomenal, perhaps perfect teacher. Each of us finds a space where we fulfill our purpose, where we bring along others into something new. All of us have the capacity to teach at least one thing, and in Nuala’s case, she taught us how to be writers of our own stories, and in that sense, she taught us to be public.
Publishing and pubs both have their root in the idea of being or making yourself public. A pub is a shortened word for a public house, a place where people can gather, no membership required. A published book is something anyone can read, as long as they can read. At least that’s how it is supposed to be.
When people celebrate the Irish in America it is for many of the right reasons, for their hard work, their ability to fit into a society that did not even respect them at first. As honorary Irish we dye our rivers and our beer green for a day and maybe we catch a parade. As Nuala always said, “To be Irish in America is grand.” to be Irish in Ireland, was always a bit more work. Like me and good old Fyodor, Nuala recognized that old Irish culture also existed in the Americans she met, but of course there were parts that stayed on top, obvious to all. The other parts that stayed underneath, in the underground, that was what each family had to lose, suppress, or simply ignore.
I wanted to share this because Nuala was the person who made me a writer. It was she who told me that I was born to do this. I still struggle with writing, not because I don’t enjoy it, but because I always learned that “good girls” don’t really make a sound.
We don’t question, and we provide structure, and women like me — those who dare make a sound, get what we deserve. We get to feel pain and we get to feel shame, but do we get to feel liberation, too?
You might say the Irish women don’t value transparency and liberation, over tradition, but history would correct you. Women in Ireland have led the move to advance rights, their own and others.
Nuala taught me not to confuse the Irish with smiling leprechauns. The chalk boards full of Gaelic in the Glucksman Irish taught me that too. Language is the first place we become free, publicly.
What we learn and what we teach are two sides of a coin, two different sides of ourselves. So this week I want to feed the public with the fearlessness that Nuala gave me. I want to feed this notion that whatever an industry looks like, no matter what your dreams are, there is a way for you to succeed by just going public with your thoughts. You may change one day, or change one life, but isn’t that a fantastic thing to do?
Now is a time for you to speak up and be more public. Write poetry if you never have and share it here in the comments or share it with friends! Sing a song you love as you walk, don’t worry if anyone hears you. Sing loudly. Write down the stories you have almost forgotten. Do it not just for you, but for the others like you. Who is like you? Well, trust me, deep inside where we fear and we love, we are all sometimes very much alike.
St. Patrick’s Day has passed, and for that matter so has St. Brigid’s back in February, but the spring is just getting started. Spring with its blooms and their flagrant colors, beckon us into life. Past the fog of news and media, the season remains. This is our time to bloom, as we prefer and for our delight.
It’s a good time to practice the gifts of the Irish. That means to speak up, to say what you think and feel. No one has a thought exactly like yours, no one has a voice like yours.
I celebrate the Irish because they survived a famine imposed on them by an occupying British government. I celebrate that their perseverance gave them places to live and excel all over the world. I celebrate the survival of the Irish and Irish women who used their voices, to end subjugation, and to help end the troubles. That is what Nuala did, because for years she was not writing her memoir, but writing and producing news and documentaries.
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Are you somebody? The question has an easy answer and that is “Yes, you are somebody.” So go be bigger and louder and more public than ever. Your memoir might not take over the world but it might reinvent your world from the inside. You may be in a panic. But you have got this. Whatever is hiding in your underground is willing to meet you. It might be traumatic or maybe it is joyful but whatever it is, it is yours.
Go ahead, be public and be lucky.
And if you need a laugh, Garron’s videos should help ;0
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Food links? Absolutely!
Irish Soda Bread Recipe (NYTIMES gift link)
An Irish chef and farm you want to know
Ireland’s best known chef? Do you know her?
Pakora isn’t Irish but it has potatoes! (NYTIMES gift link)
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Beautiful and so uplifting. Yay!