What is the most immortal line or phrase in Irish literature? “And yes I said yes I will Yes”? No. “Waiting for Godot”? No again. “Is it about a bicycle?” Not that either, even if it from a book set in Eternity. No. The most famous – and apparently deathless – line ever written by an Irish author is “the centre cannot hold”. If only for perpetual usefulness to headline writers, nothing else comes close.
Its latest high-profile appearance was on the front of the Economist last week, over a picture of the French tricolour with the blue and red parts fluttering in the breeze and the white bit missing.
But there is always a political crisis looming somewhere in the world for which Yeats’s doom-laden “The Second Coming”, and especially the line about the centre’s bleak holding prospects, does not seem apposite.
Written in 1919, against the background of the Bolshevik Revolution and war in Ireland, it was more popular than ever 100 years later, thanks to Brexit and Donald Trump. And on its 105th anniversary, it shows no sign of waning.
Name Shame – Frank McNally on the continuing tragedy of the forename “Kevin” and a bad night for “Shamrock” in London
Kiss of Death? – Frank McNally on the rise and fall of mistletoe
O Holy Fright – Frank McNally on an ‘uplifting’ carol service
Keeping it lit – Frank McNally on attending the global premiere of Gloomsday
Many other phrases from the poem also lend themselves to headlines. “The Second Coming” itself (over which Yeats now vies for copyright with Christianity), looks likely to be given another lease of life in this year’s US presidential elections.
“Things fall apart”, “What rough beast”, and “the darkness drops again” will be in renewed demand then too.
But for its all-round appeal (including such occasional non-political uses as when, say, Bundee Aki or Robbie Henshaw knocks a ball on over the try-line) “the centre cannot hold” is indispensable.
“The bicycles go by in twos and threes”, quoted here as recently as yesterday, has a much lesser fame. But as reader Sean Lyons tells me, Patrick Kavanagh’s poem about being exiled from a dance in Billy Brennan’s barn in the 1930s, seems to have achieved its own measure of immortality.
At the recent Wild Mind festival – a celebration of the natural environment – in Fenit, Co Kerry, Sean organised an event called “Poetry in Motion”. This involved a group cycle along the local greenway, with stops to recite poems.
A young woman from Monaghan having joined them, he asked her to start with a reading of Inniskeen Road July Evening. Whereupon she introduced herself as “a grandniece of Billy Brennan”. By added coincidence, the festival headquarters was a venue called “The Barn”.
In not dissimilar vein, I notice that the signatories on that open letter of Joyceans (as referred to in Conor Gallagher’s July 12th news story), protesting over the exclusion of Fritz Senn from the recent Joyce Symposium, included a name that was both strange and oddly familiar.
“Maninda Muquintoj” described him/her/themselves a “cryptographer” from “Hadesville, TN” [Tennessee]. That much sounded plausible.
Joyce himself and an interest in cryptography (as did his friend John Francis Byrne, the real-life occupant of No 7 Eccles Street, where Leopold Bloom fictionally resided). He buried many puzzles in Ulysses, to be deciphered by future scholars. But the signer’s affiliated university, “Necropolis College”, looked more suspicious. And sure enough, on closer inspection, this appears to be yet another appearance of our old friend from Paddy Dignam’s funeral, whose identity still eludes Joyceans: “the man in the Macintosh”.
It’s Bastille Day (nearly), In which spirit, I’m pleased to hear that the French are on the sea again, bound for Ireland. But unlike in 1798, they won’t be landing at Kilala and this time seem to have a much better chance of reaching Dublin. The latest French invasion is of a Gaelic football team, which is undertaking an Irish tour next week, playing three games against local opposition. And no, these are not merely Irish exiles who play GAA in France. We’re talking about actual French people, with names including Maxime Batard (Paris Gaels), Antoin Mania (Bordeaux Gaelic), and Jérémy Charrier (Nantes Don Bosco). There are no fixtures planned for Castlebar or Ballinamuck. Learning from General Humbert’s mistakes, they will head straight for the capital, to play games against Portobello, Na Fianna, and Beann Eadair.
It’s not unusual now, apparently, for GAA clubs in France to attract locals without Irish family ties. Hence the Gallic Athletic Association, as it should be known, being able to assemble a touring panel of 23 indigenous footballers.
Sadly or otherwise, these do not include a dual star who represented France at soccer but is also the most famous GAA player ever to wear the bleu. Although now 47, he must be still fit enough to play junior, at least. Even so, there is no place on the panel for Thierry Henry, whose brilliant handpass put William Gallas through for a famous winning goal against Ireland in 2009.
Getting back to Yeats and the question of whether the centre can hold, I’m glad to report at least one case where it almost certainly will.
We’re talking about the Taney Parish Centre, to be exact, in Dundrum, Co Dublin. Which is confidently expected to hold the annual Yeats Sisters Symposium, celebrating the work of WB’s siblings Susan and Elizabeth, this weekend. A full programme is at theyeatssisters.com.