Moving statues in a rural church, millionaires with global dreams, country and-western fans slaughtering sheep at the Halal in Ballyhaunis: images of the real or the surreal? The blurred distinction between the two says much about the contemporary state of Ireland, and about the ways in which a country constantly builds and rebuilds its own identity.
From its sometimes confused sense of place, caught somewhere between Europe and America, Ireland has redefined itself in the 1990s. Often out of necessity (the Irish Church forced to confront paedophilia among its own ranks, for example), occasionally through sheer will and bravado, Ireland has changed to such an extent that it can now boast a greater 1996 per-capita GDP than the UK and a real place in the global economy. But the legacy of John F. Kennedy's visit and the relentless wave of emigration it signified, as well as arguments over nationalism, sexual politics and the Church, remain, creating a diverse, energetic and socially engaged community.
This is a highly pleasurable collection of essays, drawn from Fintan O'Toole's best writings of the last two decades. Its portraits of people-talk-show hosts, priests, children, pop stars-and its reports of social and political upheaval, reveal a country still in search of itself, but more at ease with the complexities of its own make-up; a country whose buried memories, tourist myths and current contradictions might now be reworked to forge a truly modern Irish identity.