Something Irish for the Weekend?
Are you a weak, pathetic booze-hound who despises every detail of your hellish, pub-bound existence? Then you’re clearly not Irish.
Sam Delaney explores the stereotype that is the golden rule of booze marketing:
if you’re Irish [heavy drinking] is somehow artistic and glamorous. Alcohol is what drives your burning Celtic soul. It helps you write poetry and informs your heartfelt political convictions. When we drink, we all pretend to be Irish in a bid to stave off the nagging emptiness in our souls. This explains the continued popularity of Guinness despite the fact that it tastes like Benylin mixed with Nescafé and Bovril
Meanwhile going back to the Rising, Karen Fricker reviews Donal O’Kelly’s new play at Kilmainham Jail, about the legitimacy and legacy of the 1916 Easter Rising:
Though using a failed-motherhood metaphor undermines the apparent feminist agenda, O’Kelly ends the play on a chillingly anti-heroic note - if his goal was to get people thinking, he has achieved it
Eolaí gan Fhéile:
