Lingering at the fork
A stony wall
Borrowed my shoes
To let me sleep
But I could not
Fearing old dreams
Like a name
Behind a curtain
Yet it has been a long while
Since I lost my shoes
At the fork of the road
When I could
Not
Reach
The lake
September 30, 2024
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2024
I do not watch modern movies. Rather, I prefer to sink in my old leather chair that has adopted the shape of my anatomy and have my 125 pound Akita sleep nearby, and somehow keep one ear up to listen to the B&W movies from the 1930s and 1950s. A time travel perhaps, but like in still photography, a movie in B&W lets me follow the story rather than being distracted by colour.
This changed yesterday when, as I was flipping through the channels, I saw scenery I had seen in Ireland before. Or at least close to it. So I stopped and checked the movie title. It read “The Banshees of Inisherin”. I did not recognise any of these words, so my curiosity kept me on that channel.
It is indeed a 2022 Irish film with Irish actors, in a most beautiful island setting during the end of the Irish Civil War in 1923. The main character Pádraic is a quiet man, who lives in a stone house with his sister, and has a miniature donkey as a pet. He and his sister Siobháome sleep in the same room, in separate beds. The plot revolves around the theme of sadness and loneliness, as Pádraic’s best friend, Colm, decided to reject the friendship and opt for being left alone to pursue his musical inspiration of writing a new violin composition. As such, the plot is simple, revolves around the feelings of three central characters, and explores the darkness of rejection, loneliness and ensuing violence. Indeed, Colm after finishing his new violin piece decides to “punish” Pádraic’s insistence to “be nice” again, by cutting his own left hand fingers and throwing them against Pádraic’s home front door. Unfortunately, the fourth central character, the miniature donkey named Jenny swallows one of Colm’s cut fingers and chokes to death on it. Pádraic’s revenge is to burn Colm’s home although Colm escapes from the fire.
The plot may be simple, but the acting, the scenery of the island and the dialogue are engaging and breathtaking. A few moments resonated in me intensely, in part because they spoke to my own beliefs and life experience, but also they reminded me of the attitude of Irish friends I have had. In one instance, Colm responds to Pádraic’s question as to why he sits alone in the pub, drinks his pint of Guinness and is obsessed with the goal of writing his last violin piece.
Colin says that being nice or
friendship) may not last “But will I tell
ya something that does last?”
“What? And don't say somethin' stupid like music” replies Pádraic.
“Music lasts. And paintings last. And poetry lasts.” states Colm.
Simple, yet it touches on universality, identity and purpose. Friendship is an individual need, but continuing the inherited responsibility of transmitting, often without knowing to whom, the panhuman need to have an identity through the arts is a much more worthy pursuit.
And after finishing his violin piece, Colin cuts his left hands fingers so he cannot play the violin again. But he throws these fingers at Pádraic’s house door; Jenny the donkey swallows one finger and chokes to death.
After burying Jenny in his yard, Pádraic goes to confront Colin.
“So, let's just call it quits and agree to go our separate ways, for
good this time” Colin proposes
“Your fat fingers killed me little donkey today. So, no, we won't call
it quits. We'll call it the start”
“You're jokin' me”
Yeah, no. I'm not jokin' ya. So tomorrow, Sunday, God's day, around
2:00, I'm going to call up to “your house and I'm gonna set fire to it, and
hopefully you'll still be inside it. But I won't be checkin' either way. Just
be sure and leave your dog outside. I've nothing against that gom. Or you can
do whatever's in your power to stop me. To our graves we're taking this. To one
of our graves, anyways” Pádraic gives the ultimatum.
.. I was delighted to spend 2 hours in my old leather seat, but my dog was not. In many ways, he is my Jenny, and he was hungry for dinner.
After feeding him, I checked the Internet about the movie. Here is a small sample of the recognition it has received:
The film had its world premiere on the 5th of September 2022 at the 79th Venice International Film Festival. It was theatrically released in Ireland, the United Kingdom, and the United States on October 21, 2022. It won four Academy Film Awards as Outstanding Film, Best Actor in Supporting Role, Best Actress in Supporting role, and Best Original Screenplay.
The film was also named one of the Top Ten Films of 2022 by the National Board of Review. It has since been cited as among the best films of the 2020s and the 21st century so far.
But it is said that the film was not as well received in Ireland. Why?
It seems that it is not as much about the film but about the rather subjective definition of “irishness.” Although I have difficulty in fully understanding the argument, there have been suggestions that Martin McDonagh who wrote the script and directed the film does not understand “irishness” since he was born in London and raised by parents from the West of Ireland. Yet, for viewers like me, it is the film that attracts us as a work of art. It explores panhuman concepts of loneliness but recognises the need for personal space promoting creativity. It is dark and joyful, addresses the need for friendship, of being kind while at the same time lets the viewer vagabonding through questions about human nature. I found myself lending my eyes and ears to the movie, but in parallel, ponder on such concepts as “no one is a prophet in his own village” and “the wound is an opening through which light comes in.”
.. In the late 1970s I worked in Doha, Qatar as part of a group of multinational team in structuring Primary Care and developing a national health and epidemiology computerised information system. The country had embarked on adopting western models and technologies to healthcare information infrastructure, in parallel to new urban architecture and landscaping developments through expatriate institutions and professionals. The healthcare team comprised of professionals from Australia, Egypt, France, Ireland and Lebanon.
We soon realised that outside of professional work, all socialization was within that circle of expatriates in the desert environment that was new to most of us. And we discovered that many of us were there for a single personal reason – finding a space, for a couple of years, for themselves. It was a self-selected group that sometimes needed a break from their previous lives; sometimes escaped harsh times like civil wars; and, often needed the change of environment to be alone. The desert was perfect for that – in fact, it was an oasis of sorts.
The Irish team consisted of nurses. They worked in the health centers, and their leader, the “Matron”, worked at the Ministry of Health in advising the Ministry about the proper organization of Primary Care nursing. She was a colourful character, always joyful, and extremely competent. It was only after work hours, in social settings that she became what most of the team was – a person with a past who had found her space for a short period of time. Once, she admitted that there was some “lovely pretending” to keep all around her happy. “Pretending is like Cork gin” she put it, “cheap but still great for breakfast!”
Two decades later I received a letter informing me that she was diagnosed with neuroblastoma. “Why the frecken brain?” she asked, “What is wrong with uterine or breast cancer?” She lost her battle after a few months.
I thought about her while watching the movie. And, after almost half a century later, I recalled the first time I saw a report she had sent to the Director of Health at the Qatari Ministry that ended with:
“Eventually Yours”
And as I writing, I smiled remembering what she always said when an international expert was invited to evaluate our team’s goals. Specifically:
“An expert is anyone
from another country who wears a tie”
I do not know if that was “irishness” but it was the Irish way I knew. That was being the bon vivant in any environment. In just a few words.
PS/ there is a scene where Colm, unable to play his violin after self-mutilation, directs his fellow musicians to play his new work, in the pub. He was done playing his violin – he was done fiddling with his search for a tune that justifies his existence. Interestingly, although he was pleased to create a new musical piece, it did not sound a real departure from traditional Irish music for violin and balladeer. Perhaps when we look for change and new discovery, we sometimes cannot dissociate ourselves from who we are and from our heritage.
September 23, 2024
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2024
I may find again
The promise and the calm
We once thought
As a stormy story
It was an old
story
Yet poetry and ordinary
And lonesome walks
In smoky train stations
And, like after an August rain
Waves left the mossy rocks
And the beach dried in the sun
Still touching the bluest sea
And I found, in that respite,
The promise to walk on unmoon nights
Without leaving shadows behind
And it became my road
My way
September 8, 2024
