The article by David Rose in this newspaper last Saturday contained some of the truest and saddest observations about Ireland which I have read in a long time. We are steadily being transformed, and for the worse. Qualities of curiosity, courtesy and patience were once the prized and unique characteristics of Irish people. In the absence of that spontaneous courtesy and regard, other societies have created a culture in which appearing to be concerned about other people's needs become paramount. This translated into doing things which were utterly unknown in Ireland, such as parking neatly and obeying traffic rules and not leaving litter about the place. People might be cold and distant, and might not spend their time talking to strangers, but at least they adhered to rules. Those rules made life bearable.
Surliness is spreading
As the end of this century approaches, we seem to be getting the worst of both worlds. As David Rose wrote, surliness and incivility are spreading through Irish life. The great cultural norm of polite curiosity is being lost in a social earthquake which almost has no precedent, but even as we lose that quality, we are not replacing it with those civic rules that make living together tolerable.
David Rose experienced that distancing, that coldness in Clare. We have met it in Galway. This past summer we spent a few days in Connemara, and I am inclined to think I will never return there, and for more than one reason. One supermarket in Ballyconneally was charging £6.50 for a bottle of Jacob's Creek; and that is inexcusable and extortionate, even in a tourist economy dependent on a short season. But far worse than the high prices was the complete lack of any civility. I was merely a customer to be disposed of without courtesy or a smile; and as for friendly curiosity, you would be more likely to find it from a bank clerk in Zurich. I had never experienced such brisk and impatient coldness anywhere in rural Ireland. I was no longer a human being, but an impediment to the effortless passage of the working day.
It wasn't just that shop, but just about everybody we met in Connemara. We were visiting cyphers, faceless, nameless things with whom to do business as briefly as possible. In pubs, the traditional qualities of amiable curiosity seemed to be absent entirely. Barmen were distant and chilly. They had a job to do, and they were doing it. And that was all. Next?
Okay, that's fine, and maybe they have a point. Maybe the qualities of leisurely courtesy belong to an extinct value system. Maybe all these strangers coming to their world are not of personal interest to them, and the polite conversations of the past - is it Dublin you're from and what'll you be doing over your holidays and are you having a nice time? Maybe the weather will pick up, sure it was lovely here last week, but you don't come to Connemara for the weather, sure you'd be mad - are utterly meaningless and hypocritical. Just get on with the job and don't be wasting anybody's time with idle chatter.
Play by the rules
Good. But you can't play it both ways. If you are going to behave with the cool aloofness of a Swiss bank clerk, then you have to play by the rules of the Swiss bank clerk. Real rules which are kept by everybody; but while we are abandoning one value-system, we are not replacing it with any other, apart, that is, from a virulent form of traditional me-ism.
So Clifden, for example, is now turned into a day-long traffic-jam by a combination of the sort of municipal competence we expect in rural Ireland - all traffic leaving western Connemara must enter an insane one-way system through the village - and me-ist double and treble parking. Now of course, such parking is not entirely new. The car that is double-parked outside a shop in a village, with a parking space 20 yards away, could once be seen as colourful evidence of compulsive and unmunicipal individualism; but compulsive individualism, without any of the mitigating and traditional qualities of politeness and curiosity, is me-ism in waiting.
It need wait no longer. Me-ism now fills Irish life. It is nowadays evident in supermarket car-parks, where cars are frequently left straddling two spaces. And a new strain, aggressive me-ism is becoming evident - as with a group of Clare supporters last Sunday, bawling triumphantly from their car, and trying to make an illegal right turn in the centre of Dublin. Because of the oncoming traffic, the car could not turn, and a huge queue of impatient motorists built up behind the one illegally turning car. Even as the cacophony of horns mounted, the Claremen jeered through their open windows, joyous in the obstruction they were creating.
Mitigating qualities
All-Ireland weekends are always noted for the dreadful driving of visitors and for the litter. I have never thought these characteristics colourful, merely signs of the endemic incompetence of so many road-users and of a fairly commonplace civic thoughtlessness. But traditionally, accompanying such incompetence and thoughtlessness have been mitigating companion-qualities of courtesy, interest, gentleness and civic regard.
Not any more. The Celtic Tiger is beginning to behave like a Tasmanian Devil. The sad truth is that our scenery is not that special, and our tourist industry has been based on the charm of the Irish people. On the what? Maybe it is time that the excellent Mark Mortell renamed his organisation Bord Slain Abhaile.