Susan Hated Literature

Today is a bank holiday. Yay! Day off. Four day week, and all that malarky. And what have I decided to do today? I know what you are thinking, oooh something exciting, possibly involving finally launching my plans to take over the world, but alas, no. I’m tidying^[1] my room. Isn’t that thrilling? So far I have found approximately three hundred plastic bottles. Some empty, some with a few drops of water, some half full. I think I’m responsible for that hole in the ozone layer^[2] but what can you do? I’m also thinking of building a new leaning tower, the leaning tower of books that I really should donate somewhere out of my room. They are threatening to topple over, I’ll have to require all visitors to my room to sign a disclosure of some description.

In other, less important news, the Leaving Cert begins this week^[3] on Wednesday to be precise. The last of de brudders will be sitting it. I really should have some sort of sympathy for him, should I? But no, instead I’ll sit here and laugh^[4] at him. Course he is pretty sorted. He got accepted to the rugby academy thingy^[5] in Limerick, so all he has to do now is get enough points to do a proper course there and he’ll be happy. The problem is that he has spent so much time playing the rugby this past year that he didn’t actually do much studying.

I spent yesterday watching the GAA. The Waterford Kerry match was as boring as… well, I can’t quite think what else might have been that boring, Kerry won. Easily. Waterford got all of 4 points. But then I watched the Dublin Meath encounter. And that was much better fun. As first I was a bit worried cause Meath didn’t score at all in the first 20 minutes, but then they got stuck in, or maybe Dublin did their usual “omg! we’re in front, what do we do now”. It is weird, when I first moved to Sligo I totally didn’t get the whole anti-Dublin thing. And would always support Dublin. I was born here after all. But I think I’ve really turned into a culchie, cause I was half hoping that Meath would win. Especially after that goal that wasn’t. But at the same time I wasn’t too bothered either way. And so when Geraghty started throwing the odd punch I decided to support Dublin again. But then again, I didn’t. In the end it was a draw, and they get to “have at each other” all over again in two weeks time. Should be fun. I’d say that Meath might do it, but you never know.

I’m thinking I should support Dublin. I live here. I was born here. Rationally speaking I should support them, right? But I don’t. This summer I think I’m going to change that and tell myself to support them. Just like I tell myself I should support Leinster rugby ahead of Munster rugby.

Yea, like that works.

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Over the past few weeks there have been a few posts about the Irish blog’verse referring to the stress of the Leaving Cert. Now, maybe it is nostalgia, but I don’t remember being all that stressed about it. I know I never really got my arse in gear as regards studying, I’ve always done just enough to scrape by, and I always managed to get what I wanted.

I mean, I turned up for one exam thinking it wasn’t till that afternoon and that I had a different one in the morning.

Or maybe I was so stressed that I forgot to read the timetable?

Nah, I just didn’t really care.

Course there is a much higher media profile to the Leaving these days, but still I think that the stress is over hyped. I can understand it for people who really really really want to do a particular course, but for the majority of Leaving Cert students, do they really know what they want to do with their lives?

Course I tend not to get stressed at all. Unless I’m waiting for a rugby match so maybe it is just me.

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Gott in Himmel, will you look at that. After 4 in the afternoon and I’m only getting online now. Bloody internet connection was down all day. Still I did manage to spend my time in a productive manner and read quite a bit of my book.

Today is the second day of the Leaving^[1] and I have only one thing to say you all you students out there taking exams, nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah.

Sorry, couldn’t resist. Actually what I really wanted to say is this, wear sunscreen! And don’t get freaked out. You can always repeat. Or just find something else to do.

Still, how sickening must it be for all you students having to study while the Irish summer beams down. By the time the Leaving is over we’ll be back in the rain.

The essay options for Higher Level English were as follows^[2]

1. “Let’s stop all this pretense! Let’s tell each other the unvarnished truth for a change!”
   Write a personal essay in response to the above statement.
2. “Maintaining this sprinter’s pace at marathon length was painful…”
   Write an article for a magazine for young adult readers in which you give them advice about how o cope with the pressures of modern living.
3. “It was mad … ridiculous”
   Write a short story suggested by the above title.
4. “Someday I hope to come up with a get-rich idea…”
   Write a magazine article (serious or light-hearted) in which you outline a get rich idea of your own.
5. “What seems to be the problem …?”
   Write the speech you would deliver to a group of world leaders in which you persuade them to deal with one or more of the world’s problems.
6. “Imagine it’s St. Valentine’s Day”
   Write an article for a popular magazine on the importance of romance in our lives.

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I was over at Kelly’s blog, and got to talking about schools.^[1] And that made me think of Charlie Landsborough.

Look over there, look at that picture! Does that look like anything you’d want to listen to?
I can still recall my ears being assaulted by his What colour is the Wind… Daddy. I’m shuddering just remembering those religion classes. Yes, another thing to blame on religion. See, we had a nun in secondary school who loved Charlie. Love him to bits.

She was a bit mad. Back from the missions after spending three hundred years or so in Africa, she used to motor round the town on a little scooter and a tea-cosy for a hat. A bit mad? Make that a lot mad. She also used to give us assertiveness classes, with horrible role playing, and learning to value of the “I” message. Jaysis, they were bad. Very bad.

My class were lucky enough to have her as out class tutor. Which meant an extra class a week with her. Joy-joy feelings all around.^[2] But she could be venomous as well. I don’t think any of us will ever forget the day she declared Polly^[3] was the root of all evil.

You may be thinking that this Polly was the girl who climbed in windows and stole a teacher’s wallet. The same girl who through a brick at a teacher’s car. The same girl who set off a fire extinguisher all over a teacher. No it wasn’t. Polly was a girl who got all A1s in her Leaving. Now you furriners won’t know what that means, but it means she was damn smart. Like getting top marks in your SATs^[4] It is the highest mark you can get. And means you can get into any college you want. Polly was as far from a trouble maker in class as you can get.

But that is all beside the point. Charlie Landsborough, still touring^[5] still releasing albums, still singing!

I’m just happy, make that ecstatic, to not be listening to him anymore.

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There I was flicking around, trying to decide whether or not to put on another episode of Ultraviolet or not, when I heard a familiar name from TG4. Maidhc Dainín.

Not familar to a lot of you out there I’m guessing, but Maidhc Dainín^[1] wrote a book called A Thig Ná Tit Orm which told about his growing up in Kerry in the 1940’s and 50’s and his emmigration to the states. His life in Chicago, which includes a fair bit about the civil rights movement, and from what I recall the resulting violence was part of the reason for his moving back to Ireland. And of course his bosca ceoil, or accordion.

The reason I know about it is that I studied it for the Leaving. Although to say that would imply I read the book. That isn’t actually true. Instead we were told to buy a different book, I forget the title now but it was in essence a summary book. A brief guide to what happened in the actual book.

So what does that tell you about the way Irish is taught? Can you imagine your English teacher telling you not to get King Lear, but instead to buy the Cliff Notes instead?

btw, the title basically means “Discuss” and is to be seen in the Leaving Cert after some rambling statement about society, or history, or whatever the question on Maidhc Dainín is that particular year

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