BOOK OF THE DAY: Kieran Faganreviews Great Irish LivesBy Charles Lysaght (ed), Times Books/ Harper Collins, 302 pp, £12.99
COLLECTIONS of profiles of Irish lives are commonplace, but this one is different. Here we have about 100 of our great and good as seen by the anonymous obituary writers of the Times of London.
Meet 19th-century composer of hymns Mrs Cecil Alexander cheek-by-jowl with 20th-century TV star Eamonn Andrews. Her All Things Bright and Beautiful and There is a Green Land Far Away "were being sung by half-clad Africans in a tongue she had never known" at the time of her death in 1895, according to her obituarist. By contrast, broadcaster Andrews made himself "completely a man of the television age . . . by virtue of being himself: charming and unflappable"; such was the verdict on his death in 1987.
Edward Longford, the sixth earl and benefactor of the Gate Theatre, comes to life here. In the 1950s, £30,000 was needed for essential repairs to the building at Cavendish Row. Longford, a familiar Bunterish figure in the Dublin of my childhood, is described "carrying a little collection box" in which he raised £13,000 on the streets of the city, much of it from people "in humble circumstances" who were very fond of the eccentric lord and willing to give him money they could ill afford. The Gate survived, and Longford's successor, Michael Colgan, now makes his appeal to the public purse through the Department of Arts, Sport and Tourism.
The Times of London is often taken as a hostile witness in Irish affairs, sometimes unfairly so, according to Charles Lysaght's introduction. Lysaght, long a contributor of well-crafted obituaries to the Times, includes a surprisingly fair account of Cardinal Tomás Ó Fiaich, noting the prelate's cheerful nationalism but not mistaking it for support of terrorism, as many of his detractors did. The verdict on pragmatic politician Seán Lemass is generous, but lacks the bite of The Irish Times that he came to power too late and left it too early.
Obituaries have become more candid of late. A good obituary, according to Andrew McKie, obituaries editor of the Daily Telegraph, home of the sharpest obits, "shows rather than tells".
The Times takes a more understated approach, but it has its moments. Seán MacBride, never The Times's favourite Irishman, got a broadly favourable hearing but was criticised from an unexpected viewpoint. "Neither an outstanding advocate nor an especially acute lawyer" deals succinctly with one aspect of his career, while his opposition to a referendum to permit divorce is cited to deal with another. The incongruity of being awarded the Nobel and Lenin peace prizes was too good to miss.
Journalist Nuala O'Faolain's writings were praised, but her indifference to publishing matter hurtful to family and friends was also noted. Loyalist David Ervine's pragmatism is commemorated in his phrase: "I don't want to wake up in the morning asking myself am I British or am I Irish? I want to think 'Am I late for work'?"
And, until I read it here, I had not known that WT Cosgrave, president of the executive council of the Irish Free State, had been a barman. Plus ça change . . .
Selecting these morsels may say more about the reviewer than about the book. Its broad range opens it to many people in different ways. No one vantage point can command the entire landscape of history, but this view from our nearest neighbour goes some way towards answering Robert Burns's plea: "O wad some Pow'r the giftie gie us/To see oursels as others see us"
• Kieran Fagan is a journalist and occasional obituary writer