Sir, – Your special supplement (August 1st) in honour of Maeve Binchy was a joy to read and a worthy tribute to the immensely popular writer. Many thanks for including her witty and keenly observed pieces on the royal weddings in 1973 and 1981 which now have an added poignancy. With her passing, the warmth and laughter has left the room. May she rest in peace. – Yours, etc,
A chara, – One of my earliest experiences of literacy was reading Maeve Binchy’s Irish Times column at breakfast on my own. Dublin 4 was the first grown-up book I ever read. When, as a 10-year-old boy, I wrote and asked her to come and speak to our Writers’ Club in the Dalkey School Project National School, her long, warm acceptance of the invitation was the first letter I had ever received from London. When she and Gordon invited me to their house some years after that, I saw a word processor for the first time. And a couple of years ago when they took me to lunch in Finnegans, I had my first taste of a drink called a “port and brandy”.
For as long as I can remember, Maeve Binchy’s voice, on the radio, in person or on the page, has been a source of endlessly fresh joys; with her passing one of the rare real lights of life has gone out. – Is mise,
Sir, – Having attended the 1995 premiere of Circle of Friends in the Savoy Cinema, my companion and I strolled across O’Connell Street to enjoy some light refreshment at the after-party. As we approached the Royal Dublin Hotel, a car cruised to a halt and out stepped Maeve Binchy. With some trepidation, I approached to offer my congratulations on the screening. However, after a few moments, the three of us breezed gaily into the soiree, chatting animatedly like old friends. This cherished memory – a graphic attestation of her true interest in people and genuine warmth. – Yours, etc,
Sir, – Saddened to hear about the death of Maeve Binchy, I would ask you all to Light a Penny Candle for the Heart and Soul of any party as we travel on the Lilac Bus, with a Circle of Friends to a Silver Wedding, passing the Copper Beach on Tara Road, Minding Frankie so he does not go near The Glass Lake, which is near Whitethorn Woods.
I look well with my Scarlet Feather, as we proceed to Quentins big night, If you would like to be a writer, go to Evening Class, passing many A Week in Winter, dreaming of a Night of Rain and Stars, following hopefully a Firefly Summer, and as we return by Dublin 4 we will hear Echoes of a wonderful life lived by Maeve Binchy. Rest in peace. Your good work will live on. – Yours, etc,
Sir, – I had the pleasure of meeting Maeve Binchy many times in my public relations career but it was my participation in the National College of Ireland’s Maeve Binchy Writers School that I treasure most.
Maeve’s advice to me at the time was to “do something with what you have written, get it published. People who love you will be delighted and your enemies will be absolutely gutted”! May she rest in peace. – Yours, etc,
Sir, – As a freelance writer, having an article accepted by an Irish Times editor is always a happy occasion. But the paper’s rejections can be wonderful too. I treasure then features editor Sheila Wayman’s explanation of why she could not take a particular article. It was curiously delightful to read: “Maeve Binchy is writing a piece on the very same subject for next weekend”. Who could compete? A legend has left us. – Yours, etc,
Sir, – I was privileged to have met Maeve Binchy in 1992 in Eason’s bookshop Belfast where she signed a copy of her book Copper Beach for me. When I told her that I was taking it on holidays to Turkey, she added a further note wishing me a happy holiday. As I moved away to allow the next Maeve fan to approach for a book signing , she asked me to send her a post card. When I asked, “What’s your address?”. She promptly quipped, “Oh Maeve Binchy – Dalkey ... Don’t worry the post man will know me!”
What a wonderful warm and friendly lady, a great storyteller. I am the richer for meeting her and reading her stories. – Yours, etc,
Sir, – Around 1960 I attended a lecture on cheap travel under the auspices of the Irish Mountaineering Club and the late Dermot Bouchier-Hayes. It was given by Maeve Binchy, and during it she spoke about everything under the sun except how to travel cheaply. Her enthusiasm and ability to motivate people helped to turn me into a lifelong traveller. Thank you Maeve. – Yours, etc,
Sir, – Late in 1994, not long after the publication of Maeve Binchy’s The Glass Lake I spent a weekend embroiled and enthralled with her latest work; it was a weekend during which I was in great difficulty – having no one to turn to. I read her work, devouring it, and was shrouded in its humanity, its consideration, its hope.
That was the most dramatic of encounters with I had with Maeve’s work. Many others were enthused and enlightened by her words, her gift, her storytelling. What great company she was.
Maeve often spoke about her process of writing, of observing daily life – the streets of our lives – and turning that into storytelling guile. Now, sadly departed, she will have a different view, a different audience, to share her kneading of humanity and transcendence. May she reign long with the words she has left us. – Yours, etc,