Book of the Day: Terenure College 1860-2010: a historyby Fergus D'Arcy, Terenure College, 556 pp, €40.
TERENURE COLLEGE brings Mark Twain’s dictum to mind: never let schooling interfere with a good education. Founded in Dublin in 1860, the same year as its great rival at Blackrock, this history presents an intimate portrait of a remarkable school, which boasts an enduring spirit of “friendship, learning, fun and faith”.
Terenure was founded at the height of the so-called “devotional revolution”, in an age when, under the direction of Cardinal Paul Cullen, the Catholic Church in Ireland assumed an ascendancy as the fortunes of the Protestant state declined. But while the confident values of the new elite are reflected in the “Fearless and Bold” of the Rock fight song, there is an unusual modesty about Terenure.
Indeed, from its foundation it had little enthusiasm for what D’Arcy calls “the aggressive . . . self-promotion of other institutions”. Perhaps this was a legacy of its Carmelite founders, friars who lacked the certitude of the Jesuits, or the zeal of the “French Fathers”, but who prized the value of fraternity. Moreover, the ambiguous purpose of the institution, as a seminary or a school for the middle class, assured an emphasis on formation endured at the college. The decision to commission Fergus D’Arcy to write this history was well made, and Fidelma Slattery’s sharp design makes for a very attractive volume. A distinguished social historian, D’Arcy brought valuable contextualisation to the project and skilfully exploited oral history to compensate for the gaps in the official record. There is an admirable self-deprecation throughout and a candour unusual in an institutional history. One recollection, which hailed the liberality of the college compared to the grind-school at Synge Street, conceded the possibility of a boy slipping “without academic trace in the busy rounds of sport” at Terenure. In the 1930s, too, the school was “not so much a scholarly academy”, as an “idyllic farm and place of perpetual sport”.
Significantly, while the GAA might have condemned the “Seoinín schools”, it was the intransigence of its own “ban” which forced a choice between the “native” games and the variety of sports played in Terenure. Indeed, there was little room for dogmatism at the college, which failed to produce a Kevin Barry, an Éamon de Valera or a politician of national standing. But what it lacked in political leadership was amply compensated for by the unrivalled contribution to the arts of a host of graduates including Dave Allen, Mike Murphy, Bosco Hogan, Paul Bushnell, Stephen Brennan and the late Donal McCann, eulogised by Newsweek as “a world-class star”.
Yet while the tenor of the book suggests a nonchalance about the college, the arts were consciously nurtured by a series of excellent teachers including PP Maguire, subsequently head of drama at RTÉ, the Abbey actor Eddie Golden, and the inimitable Leo Maguire, prolific composer and host of Radio Éireann's Walton's Programme. In science, too, that great institution, the Young Scientists Exhibition, was the brainchild of teacher and pupil collaborators, Fr Paddy Burke and Tony Scott.
This is a fitting tribute to mark the sesquicentennial of a much loved school. More than an institutional history it presents a slice of south Dublin life and represents a significant contribution to the social history of the city.
Dáire Keogh is a member of the History Department at St Patrick’s College, Drumcondra.