When I have nothing better to be doing, I sometimes worry about the future of jig-acting. Like the Bornean orangutan, it has lapsed into that critically endangered territory. And, unless we act to preserve it, jig-acting will become as extinct as the dodo in a few short years.
Jig-acting is a uniquely Irish activity, on a par with hurling and sean-nós singing and we have a sacred duty to preserve it, just as we protect the Waterford Blaa or Connemara Hill Lamb. Unlike hurling, you need no skill whatsoever for jig-acting. To the uninitiated among us, jig-acting is the art of engaging in a spot of messing and general devilment. I’m not sure if it’s confined to the western seaboard but I do know that some of my Dublin compatriots favour cod-acting over jig-acting. Trick-acting also gets a look in.
I have no memory of ever being encouraged to commence jig-acting but hardly a day went by as children when we were not ordered to quit jig-acting. Places where jig-acting were particularly frowned upon included school, Mass, whenever the news was on, and during a sporadic bout of rosary reciting. Of course, those were the very occasions when it was very tempting to engage in a spot of jig-acting. Surely there is nothing more satisfying and life-affirming than making someone laugh when they shouldn’t be laughing?
Jig-acting has been deployed to great effect by writers such as Liam O’ Flaherty and John McGahern in the past. I did a quick online search to see if it was still in circulation and found pockets of jig-acting in certain corners of the internet. Over on Reddit, someone was blaming an air-raid siren on Putin and accusing him of being “at his usual jig-acting”. An article on TheJournal.ie was wondering how far off the coast of Cork the Russian navy was planning to carry out its jig-acting. And still in Cork, a letter writer to the Irish Examiner was calling for action on jig-acting goalkeepers.
So the good news is that the jig is not up for jig-acting but we must do the patriotic thing and deploy the expression at least once a week to keep it in usage. And throw a bit of cod-acting and trick-acting into the mix too, just to be on the safe side.
And while we are at it, we also need to protect a few other phrases that are in danger of being lost.
I would prioritise “making strange” a thing which every baby engaged in, years ago. Perhaps modern babies are so confident in today’s social media savvy world that they no longer make strange? Or are they all emerging from the womb so traumatised by today’s world that they are constantly making strange and therefore it is no longer remarked upon?
“Foostering” also needs our attention. We are still the best nation in the world for engaging in foostering but its survival is not guaranteed. We should of course be the top nation for foostering as we did invent the word after all, borrowing it from the Irish word fústar, which means fuss, or fidgetiness. Foostering can be done anywhere and usually involves some rummaging around, perhaps in a voluminous handbag, a glove compartment or a messy drawer. To fooster successfully, your behaviour must be annoying someone nearby. You appear to be doing something, yet you are achieving precisely nothing.
Stan Carey’s Irish blog on the English language, Sentence First, devotes some time to considering the word, noting that James Joyce used it in the Lotus Eaters chapter of Ulysses to describe a man rummaging through his pockets for change. It was miscorrected to “fostering” for many years, an error that crept in during the production of the first edition, according to the Joyce Project.
Poet Paul Durcan engaged in a prolonged bout of foostering in his book-length poem Christmas Day. This is obviously one of the most popular days for foostering, particularly if you’ve started on the Irish coffees too early. Suddenly you can’t find your favourite spatula, the Brussels sprouts have disappeared from the fridge, and you can’t remember why you opened a cupboard door.
But despite the best efforts of these writers, I’m sorry to report that the younger generation are ignorant to the art of foostering. Ask any 10-year-old if their teacher has ever accused them of foostering and you’ll see what I mean.
So now is the time to act because, if we stop foostering and jig-acting, we’ll find ourselves on a slippery slope.
The next thing you know, we’ll forget how to put the messages in the press.
And then we’ll be truly banjaxed.