Irish Studies
Learning a new language requires one to enter an unfamiliar, sometimes unsettling world. In 1985, I spent the summer in a small Irish village faraway on the western end of Galway Bay. My idea...
Tagged: Irish Language
A Dead Cat
Stories are like weeds—they come up everywhere and unexpectedly. Sometimes when I’m reading, I’ll nod off and find myself in the middle of a story that hasn’t been written yet. In that shadowy territory...
The Night I Composed My Own Epitaph
The year was 1985. The place was an old-fashioned Irish pub in the middle-of-nowhere Connemara. I was a “Yank come home” learning Irish among Irish teachers of Irish schoolchildren. All of us were out...