This column provides an occasional service in interpreting modern Ireland to the Diaspora, which explains an e-mail I received during the week: "Dear Frank. I know what the letters DART represent. But being resident in the UK, I've no idea what LUAS stands for. Kindly put me out of my misery . Yours sincerely, Gerald Kelly (my parents came from Cavan)."
Well, Gerald, you ask a good question about LUAS. But to begin with, I'd like to deal with the other, and arguably more important, issues raised in your e-mail: (1) your feelings of "misery" and (2) the fact that your parents are from Cavan.
Firstly, there is absolutely no reason for you to feel bad about point (2). For one thing, you had no control over this, so why blame yourself? But that aside, I know many people who not only have parents from Cavan, but were born in Cavan themselves, and have gone on to lead full and happy lives.
I accept that those of us from Monaghan have not always been as understanding as we might be on the whole Cavan issue. But I'm glad to say attitudes are changing and many of us now freely acknowledge the good things that come out of Cavan - the Shannon and the N3, to name but two. The process has been helped by the fact that since the 1970s, the counties have shared a political constituency, which has allowed children from both traditions to grow up in an atmosphere free from bigotry.
Admittedly, there has been tension along the interface of late. This week, some 3,000 Monaghan people demonstrated in Dublin over the downgrading of their hospital in favour of Cavan's: access to which, as this paper noted, is via "a 50-minute trip along bumpy roads". Equally, there has been bad feeling in Cavan since the general election, in which - partly thanks to the hospital candidate - Monaghan won four of the constituency's five seats. But generally, I'm glad to say that prejudice is on the decline and, for example, the old Monaghan slander about Cavan people being tight with money is heard less and less.
Incidentally, and by pure chance, I've been reading a biography of the novelist, Henry James, whose grandfather came from Cavan. He emigrated in the late 1700s with nothing, before quickly amassing a fortune (surprise, surprise), and his progeny also include the philosopher, William James, Henry's brother.
It's probably no coincidence William is most famous for his theory of pragmatism in ethics. This holds that the truth or falsity of any religious, moral, or philosophical principle has no relevance to everyday human experience, except in terms of practical consequences. The basic idea, which is particularly useful when applied to the sale of livestock or second-hand cars, had been popular in Cavan for centuries.
But anyway, Gerald, you were asking about LUAS. Well, unlike DART, LUAS is not an acronym. It's an Irish word meaning "speed", and as such, it describes the trams themselves, and not the construction of the system, which has been going on since around the time the James family emigrated. The first tram is scheduled for late 2003, but there are now suggestions it may be delayed, due to leaves on the line.
It's too early to say whether the LUAS will be as successful as the DART, which transformed the lives, or at least the accents, of many of those living along the line.
I predict the name may yet acquire acronymic status. "Late, Unreliable, Always Stopping" and "Locomotive Union Announces Strike" are my preliminary suggestions. Others on a postcard, please.
MY colleague, Eileen Battersby, was writing Wednesday about the Grimm Brothers, and their "dark" and often "subversive" fairy tales, which were at once both "strange and familiar".
Funnily enough, I was covering a student demonstration on Tuesday, during which 69 rubber ducks were floated on the river Liffey, to highlight a 69 per cent increase in fees. Afterwards, the students were addressed by politicians including Joe Higgins of the Socialist Party (which now has as many TDs as Cavan); who suggested they should have had 70 ducks, including one for the Minister of Education - "the ugly ducking himself".
Then, in a startling revelation, Mr Higgins added that, "of course", the duck in the Hans Christian Andersen story wasn't a real duck. And here I quote Joe's exact words: "He was a chicken".
This is certainly a dark and subversive reading of the fairy tale, and one which is at once both familiar and strange. But I think I prefer the original version, with the swan, since it poignantly reflected the self-transformation in the author's own life.
Its inspiring message, after all, is that beautiful things may arise from the most unlikely origins, possibly even Cavan.
fmcnally@irish-times.ie
