Word: irelands
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...Charles de Gaulle, still keeping his holiday exile in Ireland, far from the men jostling for his place, such minor adjustments to his grand designs must not have seemed too unexpected or unpalatable. But in one throwaway line at the end of the campaign, Georges Pompidou surely caused the old general to bristle with anger and dismay. It was an observation that exposed as perhaps nothing else could the gap between De Gaulle's view of France and the world and that of Pompidou-and between the France of De Gaulle and that of post-De Gaulle. In examining...
Only eight major nations in the world, all Catholic, do not allow divorce. They are Italy, Spain, Ireland, Brazil, Chile, Argentina, Colombia and Paraguay. Of the eight, the one closest to ending its prohibition is the home of the church it self. Italy's Chamber of Deputies last week began full debate on a bill that would allow civil divorce for one of seven reasons. Parliamentary observers predict that the bill will pass, probably before the end of the year...
...turning into death-dealing hags. The outcome of these tales was that the gods were usually razzed, the lowly were usually razzed too, and sex was made to look grotesque. Not so different from other people's legends perhaps, except in their very high quotient of mockery; but Ireland's history, or rather the lack of it, has decreed a strange long life to them. The gods turned eventually into English landlords, and later into American tourists; sex remained an object of death and terror; and the put-on was confirmed as the basic Irish style...
Most of the familiar Irish characteristics-which nobody admits to having seen lately-are survivals and distortions from the past. Under the batswing of English protection, Ireland was spared a role in history almost completely. According to the Chinese, this is a blessed state to be in. But the Irish chafed under it. They cursed the English and they cursed themselves-to the point where cursing itself became a distinct Irish art form. "May she marry a ghost and bear him a kitten, and may the High King of Glory permit her to get the mange" is a comparatively mild...
Assessing his life, Father Conroy sees that he has been a sleepwalker among sleepwalkers, mending, patching, temporizing with a world that has been deteriorating as inexorably as his body. Playing priest like a character part, he has simply avoided living, allowing Ireland's failure elitists-the drunks, the loafers-to recognize in him their kindred spirit. He has not even been able to fail grandly. The one rebel he has deliciously identified with, a protégé who once ran away with the canon's silver, has ended up by becoming a trivial middle-aged success...