When I was a child, I was fortunate to have as my storyteller no less than Brendan Behan. Being only four or five at the time, I don’t remember him very well.
However, my parents often spoke of the time he and “other republicans” spent hiding in our home in Drumcondra in Dublin during the 1940s. My father was a businessman and would drive my mother mad with his commitment to helping “the cause” in this way.
We had a housekeeper at that time who was the daughter of a British army officer, and Behan apparently took fiendish delight in taunting her about the English activities in Ireland through the medium of his storytelling to me.
He would sit me on his lap and start telling me one of the classic fairy tales. Not surprisingly, with his narrative talent, he would quickly attract an audience made up of anyone in the house at the time.
Once he had his audience, he would , with a twinkle in his eye, change the story to suit his purpose. For example, in his version, Little Red Riding Hood, en route to visit her granny, would have in her basket sausages, rashers and eggs – but underneath she would have guns, bullets and grenades.
This twist to the story would cause consternation, and the housekeeper would, in high dudgeon, announce that she couldn’t stay in the house “with that man” any longer, take her hat and coat and leave.
Behan also distinguished himself by setting the kitchen on fire. My mother had an old-fashioned clothes rack with a pulley in front of the fire, and Behan, fiddling with matches, set the clothes on fire.
That finished him with my mother, and shortly after, Behan, provided with a new suit, departed. My father dropped him off at what was believed to be a “safe place” but , unfortunately, he was arrested a few hours later.
I never met Brendan Behan as an adult, but I often wonder if he ever recalled the time he spent telling his version of fairy stories to a little Dublin girl.
- We would love to receive your family memories, anecdotes, traditions, mishaps and triumphs. Email 350 words and a relevant photograph if you have one to familyfortunes@irishtimes.com. A fee will be paid.
