Rory Fellowes

Home » Rory Fellowes » The Irish Sense of Community 2

The Irish Sense of Community 2

Start here

The Irish Sense of Community 2

On New Year’s Eve my wife and I went to join the festivities in Portmagee, a village not far from our home. We’d heard about their particular way of celebrating the New Year for ages but never been, so this year we decided to go. It was cold, with sharp winds and occasional gusts of freezing rain. The main street was lined with people waiting, wrapped against the cold and warmed by the drink they had been buying at The Bridge Bar and The Moorings. Two girls stood out from the rest, because they were dressed as if for summer and you had to wonder how they could stand the cold, but the rest were more sensibly attired.

camera flamborough currach christmas portmagee 201
The event began when a group of men appeared on the harbour wall. They were led by a man playing bagpipes and a youngster banging away on a drum. This was broadcast, somewhat erratically, over a PA system all along the main street. The men in the parade wore tartan hats and carried tall poles with flaming torches atop them. They came into the village and walked up and down a couple of times. In their midst was a bent old man, his back and legs covered in straw. He was leaning on two sticks. Once or twice he fell and was helped to his feet by the two men who were escorting him.

old man

And then, as midnight arrived, a young man stepped up to the old man and shot him (ceremoniously, I should add). It was colourful, weird and moving. We all counted down the final seconds to the New Year and then there was much cheering and kissing.

The interesting thing about this, as we discovered later (thanks be for Google), is that it began in 1727, when a Kinsale smugglers’ boat came into the harbour with a French crew (almost certainly Breton, as you will see). Portmagee is named after a famous (or infamous perhaps) Irish smuggler called Captain Magee, and along with the rest of Kerry, was friendly to smugglers, so the crew were made welcome. Then, on the night of New Year’s Eve, the village was woken by a strange wailing sound, and looking out of their windows and doors, they saw the French crew marching down the harbour wall carrying torches. The men wore tartan, they were led by a piper, and the old man was in their midst, and he was shot at midnight by one of the crew. The Bretons are a Celtic people and they wear tartan and play the pipes, hence my presumption, but I have no definite proof of that. In any event, the sight amazed and delighted the villagers, and it was decided to adopt the practice, and so it was and has remained the festival of light as practiced in Portmagee.

I love that the people here so readily adopted the festival, that there was no prejudice or resentment. Try to imagine this happening in England (“Bloody frogs” etc. etc.). Of course, in Kerry, they were well used to foreign sailors turning up out of the blue, coming in to harbour or wrecked on the rocky coast. I mentioned before the slow acceptance of blow-ins here, but this shows that for all that hesitance, they do make foreigners welcome and, apparently, they take on their customs if they seem amusing and appropriate. Isn’t it grand?

Advertisements

3 Comments

  1. roryfellowes says:

    Thanks Diano, for leaving this interesting piece of information. What I don’t know about the world!! Well, them Catholics are a weird bunch, we know that, so no surprises here, but it makes me want to go to your village to see their version…

  2. Diano says:

    Dear Rory, we have the same tradition of New Year’s Day Portmagee. The ceremony, however, midway through Lent and is symbolically burned the old year
    . It should be in small communities and even in the city of Treviso. First is a symbolic testament and then process the “old woman” in our dialect.
    Returning to the symbolism, the old was a wooden puppet who often held in his hands the spindle and the distaff (always refer to the passage of time) and was filled with grapes and figs, chestnuts, bean, apples and small gifts dispensed to the villagers before being burned at the stake, a sign of the old man who died giving the “seeds” from which would grow the new year (hence the custom of the reading of the will).

    The Catholic Church, however, does not look favorably on this event, which often falling in the middle of Lent, seemed to stop the character of purification and penance. Failing to eradicate this custom pagan tried to turn it into ritual. The process to the old process would then gastronomic orgies of Carnival, and therefore exaltation of purification and abstinence of Lent. But the memory of safe human destiny: death. Then returned to the ear the words of the priest pronounced the day of ashes: memento, homo, quia pulvis es, et in pulvere revertéris! Or, “Remember, man, you are dust and to dust you will return.”
    All small European communities are alike and there are still these traditions of our Celtic ancestors .. I was born and lived in one of these and despite having lived in a big city like Milan when young, then I returned to my village.
    If you are born and grow up in London OR Paris you’ll never know when I come to these tradizioni.Personalmente Sneem I feel good because I can understand the cultural background of the people looking at you as a foreigner. But it also needs new blood and small changes that each brings with it.
    Then there is the culture (education, life, interests) that makes us all different.
    And then there’s a pretty basic virtues in Buddhism: equanimity. This is the most important thing. Hello Diano

  3. trishascott says:

    Hi Rory – great piece and very interesting. Many thanks. Can we know more about the history of Portmagee? And what custom would you introduce if you could?! Trish x

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Previous posts

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 590 other followers

%d bloggers like this: