Venice was viewed through both a musical and a literary prism during one’s schooldays in the largest CBS prison in Ireland of the time: O’Connell’s CBS across the Royal Canal from Croke Park.
-Gilbert and Sullivan and Shakespeare.
Amharcadh ar Venezia trí phriosma ceolmhar agus liteartha le linn mo laethanta scoile sa phríosún CBS ba mo ag an am in Éirinn: Scoil Uí Chonaill trasna na Canálach Ríoga o Pháirc an Chorcaigh.
-Gilbert agus Sullivan agus Shakespeare.
Yes, through the prism walls of this trio of staunch roastbeef Englishmen (one of whom, the musical one in the middle, an Arthurian legend in his own rite, was qualified to play the concert flute or any intrument indeed for Ireland, thanks to the Granny rule) by, yes, the same much maligned and malavogued Christian Brothers. Whose main malavoguer-in-chief was the supreme expert on the CB’s, one Conor Cruise O Brien. And whose expertise was and continues to be viewed with awe by his angular and anglicised acolyte, one Finchley Fintan.
Sea, trí bhallaí priosma an triúir úd, Sasanaigh a bhi dionghabháilte le mairteoil rosta (bhí ceann acu, an té ceolmhar i lar-bhaill, chomh finscéalach le C. Mac Airt ina dhoigh féin,, cáilithe an fheadog mhor no aon cheolúirlis a sheinnt ar son na hÉireann, a bhu le riail an Mhaimeo). Sea, na Bráithre Críostai céanna atá mionstiallaithe ar an mor-scála agus arbh é a gcáinteoir gairmiúil binbeach ba ghéire ná Conor Cruise O’Brien. Agus a bhfuil a shaineolas seoiníneach á ghlacadh mar thae iarnona ar fhochupán fos ag Fintan Finchley, a acalaí gallda, géarchnámhach is mo atá fos féin faoi dhraíocht aige.
Doubly surprising despite (a) CCO’B’s never having slunk unwillingly with satchel over his chip-implanted shoulder to a CBS in his life (Sandford Park, Ranelagh being his Alma Mater, a posh academy and from which his dosh-laden-down Pater could afford to send him eastwad-o from beastly Paddyland to the Ranelagh Gardens Galltacht on Thamseside during the summer hols to perfect his de haut en bas Brit blas) and (b) it was actually Finchley Fintan who had to endure the psychological trauma of a grim ache-crammed decade eked out in Crumlin CBS, with its ghastly RC regime of the goulish Gaelic Thingy. Little wonder FF still takes the knee (formerly, genuflect) when contemplating his Hero of the Holier than Hymn Hierarchy of the Hackitariat in DUPlin. Even as FF meticulously charts the Long Royal Road Map towards a Brave New Brut-scented Brit West.
Díol iontais an t-adhradh tuathallach seo, ar dhá chúis (a) níor shleamhnaigh CCO’B go drogallach riamh ina shaol lena mhála scoile ar chrochadh ona ghualainn a bhí ionplándaithe le mhionshlis mhorchúiseach chuig Scoil na mBráthar Críostai (dob í Páírc Sandford, Raghnallach a Alma Mater, acadamh ardnosach a raibh a Phater, ar maos i múladh agus moladh, ar a chumas an buachaillín O Briain a sheoladh soir on gharbhchrioch Ghaelach go Galltacht Ghairdíní Ranelagh cois Thames chun snas a chur ar as a bhlas Sas de haut en bas) agus (b) dob é Fintan Finchley féin a d’fhulaing an tráma siceolaíoch ar feadh deich mbliain dhuairc ag freasatail ar Scoil na mBráthar, Crom Ghlinn, léna reimeas péisteánach RC den Ruidin uafásach Gaelach sin. Díol bideach iontais mar sin go ndéanann FF a ghlúine a fheachadh agus é ag guí go lústrach chuig a Laoch Lá-chealaithe sa Chéimlathas Críochdheighealtach Cois Life. Fhad is leanann FF leis agus an Bothar Fada Ríoga i dtreo na hIar-Bhreataine Croga Nua a bhfuil boladh blasta Brut as, á leagadh amach go mion aige.
-To wit, to whoo: The Gondoliers and The Merchant of Venice.
The defining character of the drama is of course, that synonym for sinister: Sylock. By trade he was a blue-chip loan-shark and quite by coincidence the news from the Rialto last Tuesday was that the one and only Irish pub in Venice as far as one could detect – hopefully not defectively – is called (gasp followed by a gulp) the Inis Shark Irish Pub.
-Aililí, aililiú ! Na Gondaloirí agus Ceannaí Venezia.
Is é carachtar sonrach an dráma, ar ndoigh, ná an focal sin atá chomhchiallach leis an urchoid: Shylock. Chleachtaigh sé gno na húsaireachta agus, mar a tharla, dob í an nuacht on Rialto ar an Mháirt seo caite ná ainm an aon tabhairne Éireannaigh amháin i Venezia, chomh fada agus a bhíos in ann a aimsiú, pé scéal é – agus ní go lochtach, tá súil agam – ná (cnead, á leanúint ag slog) an Inis Shark Irish Pub.
It is located mid-distance between the two big attractions of the water-lapped city (Piazza San Marco and Il Ponte di Rialto) and also, midway down one of those long tall alley-like narrow side-streets which are such a feature of Venice. The attractiion at 6 pm on Tuesday evening was the (yawn) rerun of WW2. One report had stated starkly that it was over fifty years since England had defeated Germany in a major tournament: that was the World Cup Final of 1966. Having been in London on a visit at the time (and in time to wave the Q et D through the gates of Buckinhgam P as they headed off to Wembley to open the tournament) one arrived early in the Inis Shark Irish Pub, to make sure of a seat.
Tá sé suite leath-bhealach idir an dá mhor-radharc is mo a mheallann na milliúin chun na cathrach (Piazza San Marco, agus Il Ponte di Rialto) agus freisin, leathbhealach síos ceann de na taobh-shráidreanna ata chomh caol le lánaí arda atá ina gné chomh sainiúil sin i Venezia. Dob é an ní a tharraing mé go dtí an tábhairne tráthnona Mháirt ag 6 pm ná (meánfach) ath-léiriú an D.C.D. 2. Tuairiscíodh go raibh breis is caoga bliain imithe o smachtaigh Sasana an Ghearmáin i gcomortas mor mar seo : b’shin é Craobh an Chomortais Dhomhanda i 1966. Mar a tharla, bhíos ar chuairt i Londain ag an am (agus in am chun chun mo bheannachtaí a chroitheadh ar an Q et D trí gheata P Buckingham agus iad ar a mbealach go Wembley chun an comortas a oscaitl) rinne mé deimhin de an Tábhairne Éireannach Inis Seirce a shroisint, le deimhin a dhéanamh de suíochán a fhail.
To find the place next door to being empty: the Italians, seemingly, are not much interested in watchng any game in which Gli Azzurri are not involved. That was the first surprise. The second surprise was the absence of the Red-and-Green colours of Mayo given that Inis Shark is an (albeit uninhabited since 1960) island off the coast of said county. Fir/Mná did mark the doorway to the Rest Rooms/ Servizi Igienici.
In am chun an áit a fháil geall le bheith folamh: dealraíonn sé gur beag an spéis atá ag na hIodáiligh breathnú ar aon chluiche nach bhfuil Gli Azzurri páirteach ann. B’shin é an chéad ní a bhain siar asam. Dob é an dara rud ná go raibh an tábhairnee in éagmais dathanna dearg agus glas. Ar ndoigh is oileán é Inis Seirce amach o chosta Mhaigh Eo, oileán atá neamháitrithe o 1960. Bhí na focail Fir/Mná le sonrú os cionn doras theach an asail.
And as the national anthems were being played before the game one could feel for the emotional conflict which Her Gracious Madge was battling with, Queen Elisbeth Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, as the stirring strains of Das England Uber Alles rang around the vast half-emptiness of Wembley Stadium.
Agus na hamhráin náisiúnta á sheinnt roimh an cluiche, ní fhéadfainn gan ach comhbhá a mhothú i leith na Banríona Maorga Madge agus an choimhlint mhothúchánach a bhí á fhulaingt aici, an Bhandríon Éilis Saxe-Coburg-Gotha agus ceol spreagúil Das England Uber Alles le cloisteáil morhtimpeall an leathfholúis ollmhoir i Wembley.
The two most prominent English playes early on were Sterling and Sakaa and one’s only dread was that some smart-alec non-gentuflecting tabloid would headline their red-top report:
-Black dives matter !
Chruthaigh beirt Ghormach, Sterling agus Sacha, na himreoirí ba chuidsiúlaí d’fhoireann Shasana sa chéad leath agus cothaíodh amhras orm go ndéanfadh béalastáin áirithe sna muchtáin rua an cluiche a thuaiisciú leis an gceannline náireach seo:
-Tá tábhacht leis na tumghormacha !
One derived a certain mixed emotion onseelf as one saw the Three Lions team backboned by a quartet of Irish-qualified players : the two Harrys, one back, one forward, Maguire and Kane (two big-boned blokes who obviously ate all around as they grew up in a begrorra environment with a lorra, lorra nourishment) and the two midfielders, Rice and Grealish. Declan R. is just as derided wth as visceral a loathing by ‘the best fans in the world’ as his namesake Edmund Ignatius Rice, but not quite.
D’airigh mé mothúchain mheascaithe is mé ag breathnú ar chnámh droma na dTrí Leon – ceathrar atá cailithe imirt sa Gheansai Glas: an bheirt Harry, taca agus tosaí, Maguire agus Kane (beirt bhoc morchnámhach gur léir uatha gur itheadar go craosach is iad ag fás aníos i dteaghlach begorra leis an t-uafas uafásach cothaithe) agus an dís i lár na páirce, Rice agus Grealish. Caiteart anois chomh holc le Declan le gráin atá chomh nimhiúil ‘on lucht gan locht leanúna is fearr ar domhan’ is a caitear lena chomh ainmneach, Edmund Ignatius Rice, geall leis.
One also experienced heartfelt sympathy for the unforunate Stephen Kenny, and one means this not in a sarky way, particular as he’ll miss the Dinosaur known as Jack Grealish who once kicked a point in an underage game in the Jurassic Park known as Croker. On 4 August 2009, Grealish was representing an under-age Warwickshire GAA team during half-time of the 2009 All-Ireland Senior Bogball Championship quarter-final between Dublin and Kerry.
Mhothaigh mé trua o chroí chomh maith do Stephen bocht Kenny, naofa ach mifhortúnach, agus ní le teann searbhais, go háirithe de bhri go mbraithfidh sé uaidh an Oisín seo i ndiaidh na Féinne, an dineasár ar a dtugtar Jack Grealaish, a chiceáil cúilín amháin uair amháin sa Phairc Iurasach sin ar a dtugtar Croker. Tharla sin nuair a d’imir sé ar fhoireann faoi-aois Warwickshire CLG le linn leath-am sa cheathrú-chraobh Uile Éireann i gCaid an Phortaigh idir BAC agus iad atá níos faide siar fiú, Ciarraí, i 2009.
And as one exited the Inis Shark one paused to enquire of the convivial local who manages the bar as to the origins of the pub’s name. He smilingly pointed to the ceiling, from which a stuffed shark was basking, just asking to be snapped, wth teeth of pearly white. Luigi, the Bainisteoir of the bar with Fir/ Mna signs on the door of the servizi. then mentioned the island off the coast of Ireland.
Agus mé ag fágáil slán leis an Inis Seirce mhoilligh mé leis an bainisteoir áitiúil suairc á cheistiú faoi fhoinse ainm an tábhairne. Le meangadh leathan ar a bhéal dhírigh sé a mhéar aníos i dtreo na síleála mar a raibh siorc stuáilte agus bolg le tolg á dheanamh go féinshona aige, le fiacla chomh bán le péarlaí. Luaigh Luigi, an Bainisteoir ar an dtabhairne a bhfuil Fir/Mná le léamh os cionn dhoras theach an asail, an t-oilean as costa thiar na hÉireann.
And why not? If the original Rialto Bridge in Dublin 8 has a Dolphin’s Barn for its next door neighbour why notta sorta ditto for the Rialto Bridge in Venice?
In fairness, going forward, I hadn’t the moxy to tell the Bainisteoir that the Shark in Inis Shark has as much to do with a shark as, say, Noah Webster had to do with the Ark. In fact, Inis Seirce means (gulp) Love Island.
Agus tuige nach mbeadh? Má tá Sciobol Deilfe mar chomharsa béal dorais ag an mbun-Dhroichead Rialto i mBAC 8 tuige nach mbeadh a mhacasamhail no mar sin ag an Droichead Rialto i Venezia 8?
Lena cheart a thabhairt, ag bogadh ar aghaidh, chlis ar mo mhocsai orm a chur in iúl don Bhainisteoir go bhfuil an ceangal céanna idir an Siorc in Inis Seirce is a bhí ag, abair, Noah Webster leis an Arc. Déanta na firinne, ciallaionn Inis Serice (slog) Oilean an Ghrá.
Agus ar mo bhealach á dhéanamh abhaile dom, fuaireas fein ag cronaá an aria is ansa liom o cheoldráma mor Giovanni Dolce:
And on my way back I found myself humming one’s favourite aria from Giovanni Dolce’s one hit opera:
What’sa matter you?
Hey, gotta no respect?
Whadda you t’ink you do?
Why you look-a so mad?
It’s-a not so bad,
It’s a nice-a place,
Ah, shaddap you face.
These are the news headlines from Radio Rialto for now.
Seo iad cinnlínte na nuachta o Raidio Rialto go nuige seo.
Comments are closed.