The desecration of the statue of Father Mathew in Dublin, reported on this past Thursday, was not a recent occurrence. The statue, located on O’Connell Street as it stands now, was a subject of violation practically from the time it was formed in the studio by the sculptor Mary Redmond, as recalled by reader Rita Larkin.
Redmond (1860-1930), being one of the select female sculptors of her era, had chosen a jobless footman from Naas, Co Kildare to pose for her sculpture of the Apostle of Temperance. Regrettably, the man struggled with alcoholism, an unfavourable trait that contrasted the mission of Father Mathew. Known for being unruly and frequently tardy, he presented at the studio in a state of intoxication one day in 1891, leading Redmond to dismiss him due to his unprofessional conduct.
The man, referred to as a ‘destructive rogue’ in a newspaper column of the era, later unlawfully entered the studio. He severely defaced his own depiction in the sculpture, and launched an attack on Redmond as well.
This incident didn’t affect the ultimate tranquility of the completed statue. It was noted by an observer that one hand appeared to invite repentance, while the other was extended in a calming gesture. The link between the posed model and any possible gestures of restraint, either at that time or subsequently, remains unclear.
As for the near-complete obliteration of the sculpture’s fingers over the years, a person of potential relevance emerged in Myles na gCopaleen, a late reporter of this newspaper. Recounting in the Cruiskeen Lawn column of 1953 about an attempt made by a group of cheeky students to place a pint glass in the extended hand of the statue during a ‘rag’ event, na gCopaleen doesn’t provide further details about the joke. However, he does conclude with a hint that he may have been present at that time: “And they very nearly succeeded.”
I was not a frequent patron of Grogan’s on South William Street, and therefore did not personally know Seán Kearney, who served as a barman there for over five decades and unfortunately passed away in the recent week. However, a number of my readers had the pleasure of knowing him and they recall him fondly.
His dedicated service spanning a lengthy period and the high regard he commanded from his patrons rewarded him with an unusual honour usually bestowed upon saints – he is remembered in a stained-glass window due to an installation at the pub, a creative initiative by artist Katherine Lamb.
Also mourning his loss is Donal Fallon, a historian and podcaster from Dublin, who took to Twitter/X suggesting that Kearney’s long service must have made him a strong contender for being the longest-serving barman of the city. Fallon also interestingly alluded to the legacy of Paddy O’Brien, yet another barman, saying that both he and Kearney were eminent for their mastery and were considered as staples in their respective institutions.
I, of course, was not personally acquainted with Paddy O’Brien. However, as mentioned previously (Diary, April 2nd, 2020) in a commentary on Dublin pub lore, he is regarded as a legendary figure in every aspect.
Exemplifying this legacy, Grogan’s is still regarded as a hub for Dublin’s “artistic avant-garde” since 1972, which is also when O’Brien started his tenure there after leaving McDaid’s pub. Story has it that esteemed figures such as poets like Patrick Kavanagh, Flann O’Brien, JP Donleavy, Liam O’Flaherty were regulars at Grogan’s, driven there by O’Brien.
That being said, while the spirits of Flann and Kavanagh may have lingered, they weren’t physically a part of Dublin’s artistic avant-garde in 1972, as sadly they became part of the literary underworld, passing away in 1966 and 1967, respectively.
Next week, another reputed writing pub in Dublin will be host to a wake. While fictitious, the tradition persists and has been running a century strong. A new round of celebrations commemorating James Joyce is inbound following the belief that the centenaries for the time being had ended.
A century has passed since the “Mamalujo” section from Finnegans Wake was first publicized, then under the banner “From Work in Progress”. This marked the commencement of numerous serialisations before the final completion of the novel. “Mamalujo” is an amalgamation of the names of the evangelists, reimagined by Joyce in an Irish context as Matt Gregory, Marcus Lyons, Luke Tarpey, and Johnny MacDougall, all of whom are reoccurring characters in the novel.
To commemorate this significant event on Tuesday, enthusiasts of Joyce’s work will engage in readings from the novel in The Mullingar House, Chapelizod, a location depicted as the dream-rich slumber site of the Wake’s main characters.
Upon receiving this invitation, I am reminded once more of my long-time goal to read this notoriously complex novel. Even though I’ve made considerable progress, I’m still facing delays akin to those of subterranean train infrastructures.
I have not made progress for a year, with my copy of the novel and its paired aide, Roland McHugh’s Annotations, both left idle, spread open at page 476. Consequently, the prospect of finishing this endeavour in anticipation of next week’s event is no longer viable.
However, I remain optimistic that a concentrated effort in the near future will allow me to complete this undertaking, ideally before this new wave of centenaries concludes in 2039.