Dun Laoghaire Research Articles

Evaluation of the embodied carbon of insulation in achieving a national retrofit plan in Ireland: Probono case study and the national perspective

Overall, the building and construction sector, in Ireland, was responsible for 23 % of final energy use and 37 % of carbon dioxide (CO2) emissions in 2021. Ireland boasts some of the most ambitious targets for Greenhouse Gas (GHG) emission reduction to 2030 in the world. In Ireland, emissions related to the operation of the residential sector receive particular attention, and the government have introduced a National Retrofit Plan that aims to retrofit 500,000 (~25%) of the national housing stock by 2030. However, carbon emissions related to the achievement of this retrofit have not been quantified. This paper aims to outline the initial steps in evaluating the embodied carbon input of achieving a national retrofit plan of this unprecedented scale. Also, it aims to assess the relative carbon savings resulting from the production of materials to achieve retrofit plan. In the first stage, a case study of social housing, used in Probono project within the Dun Laoghaire Rathdown (DLR) local authority of Dublin City in Ireland is investigated as a best practice template for future retrofit projects. The embodied carbon of retrofit is evaluated. Then, a large housing sample set of DLR is evaluated in terms of Building Energy Rating (BER). This sample set is compared with the BER ratings of national stock to evaluate its representativeness. The results indicate that most of the dwellings on the sample set of DLR, in line with the national stock, are C and D rated and need to be retrofit to achieve B rating or better. In the final section, four types of nominal dwellings in Ireland are selected to evaluate the required volumes of thermal insulation and the added embodied carbon of retrofit to reach the national retrofit plan. The results demonstrate that ~30 million m3 of thermal insulation will be required for the national retrofit plan and it will add ~2 MtCO2 of the embodied carbon.

The Case for Irish Modernism: Denis Devlin at the League of Nations and 1930s International Broadcasting

The Case for Irish Modernism:Denis Devlin at the League of Nations and 1930s International Broadcasting Karl O'Hanlon (bio) In September 1935, the League of Nations Assembly was convened to discuss the Abyssinia crisis, with Italy's belligerence making war seem increasingly likely. On September 3, the Irish delegation to the League departed from Dun Laoghaire en route to Geneva, the city where, as Susan Pedersen writes, "internationalism was enacted, institutionalised, and performed," with "a genuinely transnational officialdom" functioning as "its beating heart."1 The delegation was headed by Éamon de Valera, President of the Executive Council and Minister for the Department for External Affairs. The delegation had Cabinet backing for de Valera's support for a League-mediated solution.2 The secretary to the delegation was the poet and diplomatic cadet, Denis Devlin (fig. 1). Devlin was among the "youngest generation" of Irish poets, modernists such as Thomas MacGreevy and Brian Coffey, in whom a year earlier Samuel Beckett located "the nucleus of a living poetic in Ireland" in his August 1934 essay in The Bookman "Recent Irish Poetry," a blistering attack on the "antiquarians" in the line of the Irish Revival.3 On October 4, two days after Italy invaded Ethiopia, de Valera addressed the nation a day later than scheduled on Radio Athlone (known as 2RN prior to 1933), in which he conceded that all hopes for a League-sponsored resolution to the crisis were now gone. Several hours earlier on the same station, Devlin, de Valera's most junior diplomat in the delegation, delivered a talk on Irish poetry, "A Reply to F. R. Higgins," in which he waded into debates surrounding modernism and revivalism in response to an earlier series of radio talks by Higgins, an associate of [End Page 157] Click for larger view View full resolution Fig 1. Denis Devlin (center) and other Irish diplomats seated with Èamon de Valera, Geneva, mid-1930s. Dorothy Macardle, de Valera papers, UCDA P150/2818, c. 1935. W. B. Yeats and one of the leading proponents of an anti-modernist, postrevivalist "racial consciousness" in anglophone Irish poetry. De Valera's Abyssinia crisis address and Devlin's defense of modernist poetry airing in the same evening program on Radio Athlone emphasizes the cross-fade complexity of Irish modernism's radiophonic mediation, as well as modernism's inextricable situation within national and transnational political contexts. As this article explores, Devlin's involvement in international broadcasting against the backdrop of the September 1935 session of the League has a curious, significant place in the history of Irish modernism.4 While the centrality to modernism of what Timothy Campbell calls "the radio imaginary" has been firmly established thanks to pioneering scholarship, Irish modernism's broadcasting context, with notable exceptions, has not been extensively investigated, studies tending in the main to focus on major figures such as Yeats, and the BBC rather than Irish radio.5 This article recovers Radio Athlone's role in the 1930s international mediascape as a fertile site for debates about Irish revivalism versus modernism, debates which also had echoes in the intrigue surrounding the legitimacy of the station's state-mandated role as a transmitter of a specifically "Irish-Ireland" collective consciousness.6 By the mid-1930s, Radio Athlone played a crucial role in relaying Irish national identity to international listeners, an identity which was the discursive subject of many of its broadcasts. This article reconstructs the "radio imaginary" of these debates in the absence of surviving recordings, weaving the conflicted dynamics of Irish modernism as they emerge in all their density. By reconstructing Irish modernism's archival traces, this article resituates competing statements on Irish poetry by modernists and their opponents within the full context of their delivery. [End Page 158] The case for Irish modernism as made by one of its most intriguing voices, the poet Denis Devlin, clarifies the case for the categorical and critical value of Irish modernism (and modernism tout court) in contemporary scholarship, which has recently been questioned. The most striking intervention in this regard is made by Edna Longley in Yeats and Modern Poetry (2013), in which the rap sheet against modernism includes the assertion that its post-hoc...

Joyce Lilian Dunlop

Joyce Lilian Dunlop was a general adult consultant psychiatrist practicing in the mixed urban and rural area of Kingston upon Hull and East Riding of Yorkshire. She was born in...

Cover Note

Cover Note Emily Lyons (bio) Northern Irish artist Alison Lowry, who provides this issue's cover images, holds a first-class honors degree in art and design from the University of Ulster and is the recipient of numerous awards for her work, including a first place in glass art at the Royal Dublin Show in 2009 and again in 2015. Lowry's current exhibition (A)Dressing Our Hidden Truths at the National Museum of Ireland at Collins's Barracks in Dublin conveys her artistic response to Ireland's history of abuse in mother-and-baby homes, Magdalen laundries, industrial and reformatory schools, and related institutions (see the exhibition website at https://www.museum.ie/Decorative-Arts-History/Exhibitions/Current-Exhibitions/(A)dressing-our-Hidden-Truths). The artist attended the November 2018 Towards Transitional Justice Conference at Boston College, from which the articles in this collection originate, and her artistic interventions underscore a commitment to addressing grievous harms, violence against women and their children, truthtelling, and accountability. Her work allows us an intimate encounter by which we can begin to more fully engage with the traumas inflicted and the voices of those who somehow survived. Front Cover Click for larger view View full resolution Cover Image. Matthew 21:13 The cover image, entitled Matthew 21:13, references the biblical chapter and verse ("It is written that my house shall be called a house of prayer, but you have made it a robbers' den.") and focuses on the Magdalen laundries. The installation comprises 10,000 paper dolls representing the number of women estimated by the state's interdepartmental committee report to have entered the laundries since Irish independence in 1922. The paper dolls are fashioned from the old £5 punt currency that featured Sister Catherine McAuley, the founder of the Religious Sisters of Mercy in 1831. The Sisters of Mercy ran two of the ten laundries: one in Galway and another in Dun Laoghaire. This work illustrates how women's bodies were exploited through their forced labor; the McAuley paper dolls symbolize the historical nexus of power relations between church and [End Page 7] state and, in this particular case, intimate the state's complicity in the operation of the laundries. The dolls spill out of a church-offertory bag, emphasizing how the Magdalen women were forced into unpaid compulsory labor for religious orders that were profiting from their work as well as from the public's charity. Lowry's artistic presentation peels back the layers of exploitation surrounding the Magdalen laundries just as this journal issue attempts to do through an array of disciplinary approaches to this aspect of the nation's history and its ongoing legacies. Back Cover Click for larger view View full resolution Back Cover Image. Isaiah 3:24 The back cover image, entitled Isaiah 3:24, also references the biblical chapter and verse ("Instead of the fragrance there will be stench; instead of a sash, a rope; instead of well-dressed hair, baldness; instead of fine clothing, sackcloth; instead of beauty, branding.") The image features Lowry's glasswork and represents the practice of punishing Magdalen women, deemed "noncompliant" and subversive of the religious rule, by shaving their heads. Cutting off their hair humiliated the Magdalen women by further diminishing their femininity and marking their bodies as having submitted to an intimate enforced punishment. The five opaque, glass scissors that hang over women's cut hair represent the instruments of violence. The opaque glass also alludes to how the state and religious orders continue to resist transparency and truth-telling about the nation's history of institutional abuse. The rosary beads from which the scissors hang juxtapose the religious discourse that dominated the women's daily lives with the sharp objects used to violate their bodily integrity and human rights. Religious conviction in this instance serves as the rationalization for the violence endured by women in the Magdalen laundries. Lowry's art strives to counteract the official opacity surrounding issues of justice for those who suffered violence in Ireland's institutions and to explore new avenues of truth-telling about the nation's past and present. Permission for the use of these...

The Contribution of Religious to Irish Healthcare

The Contribution of Religious to Irish Healthcare Tim O’Sullivan A recent Studies special issue, ‘The Nuns’ Story: Writing the Record’, included a comment by Deirdre Raftery that ‘Irish women religious have left a vast, and largely undocumented, legacy to healthcare and education’.1 This comment could be extended to male religious as well in healthcare, in areas such as intellectual disability and mental health services. Growing appreciation of the neglect of the contribution of religious has led to significant work on religious congregations in recent years, such as that reported on in Studies by Raftery and others. In the field of social policy, there has been considerable analysis of the historical importance of Catholic health care providers in Irish social services, but relatively little coverage ‘from within’ of Catholic non-profit providers in Ireland – partly perhaps because of their own reticence or their pragmatic focus on progressing the job at hand rather than in theorising about it.2 Many analyses set out statecentred narratives that view the involvement in social provision of non-profit providers, and particularly those with a religious motivation, as anomalous and distracting from the responsibility of the State to provide basic social services.3 . Interest in the perspectives of religious has also clearly suffered because of their declining numbers and relative importance in Irish social services and because of grave concerns about the historical abuses in residential child care services run by religious orders.4 As a result, although Catholic providers have been a very significant stakeholder in Irish social services, their perspectives on these services have arguably received limited coverage in the social policy literature. Nevertheless, as the Studies authors suggested, there is a strong case today for a more balanced reflection on the contribution of the religious. This contribution is not just an historical one, even if the religious orders delivering healthcare are in significant decline in Ireland. An important recent report chaired by Catherine Day on the role of voluntary organisations in publicly funded health and personal social services made it clear that the Tim O’Sullivan Studies • volume 108 • number 431 288 Studies_layout_AUTUMN-2019.indd 56 21/08/2019 09:14 faith-based contribution to Irish healthcare remains substantial.5 This article seeks to reflect on the contribution of the religious in healthcare, while taking account of their own perspectives. It offers some thoughts on the Day report and draws on a 2013 study of my own, which incorporated interviews with representatives of significant Catholic healthcare providers.6 Substantial presence of religious in Irish healthcare The Day report listed seven Catholic hospitals that are still under religious ownership: the Mater Misericordiae University Hospital, St Vincent’s University Hospital and Temple Street Children’s University Hospital in Dublin; Mercy University Hospital, Cork; Cappagh National Orthopaedic Hospital, Dublin; St Michael’s Hospital, Dun Laoghaire and St John’s Hospital, Limerick. It also noted that there was a faith-based element in the governance arrangements of several additional hospitals. It referred to the planned withdrawal of the Sisters of Charity from St Vincent’s and added that the number of voluntary acute hospitals owned by religious orders may be reduced to four in the coming years: Cappagh, the Mater, the Mercy and St John’s (par. 3.3). In the same paragraph, the report stated that two thirds of all disability services are still provided directly by the voluntary sector, including eighty per cent of residential places. A number of large disability service providers are faith-based, for example: Brothers of Charity Services Ireland, Carriglea Cairde Services, Daughters of Charity Disability Support Services, Saint John of God Community Services. These organisations, the review group stated, account for approximately fifty-eight per cent of the funding allocated to disability service providers under the ‘Section 38’ funding system. A somewhat State-centred distinction is drawn at times in the Irish policy literature between large non-profit bodies that provide services ‘on behalf of’ a statutory body and community and voluntary organizations that provide other services and undertake developmental activities to meet social need without being delivery agencies on behalf of a statutory agency.7 . In legal terms, this distinction is reflected in the 2004 Health Act...

Eloquence Squared: An Interview with Padhraig Nolan

Often, creative people are recognised primarily for the work they do in one discipline, with efforts in other areas overlooked. Some artists are truly multidisciplinary, having the ability to express themselves eloquently through more than one medium. This selection of work from Padhraig Nolan, Dublin-based artist and poet, illustrates two strands of his practice: poetry and painting. As discussed in the accompanying interview, he is an artist working in more than one medium, each of which could be said to communicate with the other. In both painting and poetry, Nolan is inspired by landscape and a sense of place, and he turns his inspirations into remarkable art pieces, whether they be crafted with words or paint. Originally from Enniscorthy in County Wexford, Padhraig Nolan now lives near Dun Laoghaire, where he works as a graphic designer, illustrator and visual artist. He also writes poetry, reviews and songs. His work is regularly published and exhibited in Ireland and internationally. His website is www.padhraignolan.com

The Splitting, 1971

The Splitting, 1971 Katie Donovan When I first read Louis MacNeice’s poem “Snow” (I was a teenager in New Park secondary school in suburban South Dublin), I was struck by the line, “World is crazier and more of it than we think, / Incorrigibly plural. . . .” I was especially struck, as I read the poem, by MacNeice’s odd conjunction of snow and roses. Only now do I see the poem’s relevance to my own dislocated life. MacNeice moved between the pluralities of Belfast, Dublin, and London, and like many poets, he gave voice to the outsider. The first and most formative rupture in my singular life came when I was eight. It began with a kiss. The old Georgian farmhouse where I lived in north County Wexford was very quiet. It was a big house, more than two-hundred-years-old, and prone to creaks and even groans. But that afternoon, it was silent. My chirpy little brother Brian must have been napping. My father was out working on the farm, as always busy with drainage, cattle, sheep, and machines that kept breaking down. My mother was in the kitchen. I must have been reading or playing with my dolls. In any case I was in the sitting room and I remember surfacing out of the warm bubble of my absorption, stepping across the wooden parquet of the hall and into the kitchen with its cosy smells. Silently, she was kissing him, the man who had come to mend our clocks. The man with the big nose and very little hair. He was unspeakably ugly. She was hugging him tight and their mouths were all squished up together. I could see right away that this was something they were used to doing. Kissing very quietly, thinking no one could see. I tiptoed out of the room, out of my childhood. Later, after he had left, I accused her tearfully. “I saw you kissing that man.” Her face fragmented out of its daily mask. [End Page 9] “I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure,” she said. “We’re going to move to Dublin.” I was heaving with sobs as I sat hunchbacked on the mustard-colored armchair. In my playtime, I used to construct wooden houses with long bricks. The news felt as if one of those houses I made had been kicked apart by a random foot. My heart bristled with hate for the man who had done this to our family. It suited me to place the blame on him. “What will happen to me and Brian?” I asked. “I suppose we’ll . . . have to go and live in an orphanage. . . .” “No, silly, I would never let that happen. You will come too.” She hugged me tight, but I remained sour. I hated the idea of moving sixty miles away, to a city. Far away from the farm and our Daddy. I kept hoping that she and my handsome father would reconcile, even after the big move came and we were suddenly suburban children during the week and blow-ins down at the farm on weekends. But my mother kissed my “stepfather” every day now, and my father soon found his own new love. We adapted, as children do. Brian was only three and has almost no conscious memories of our parents living together. In a couple of years we became adept at travelling to Wexford and back by train. My father married again and we got a new brother and sister—a bonus that has increased in value through the years. But our arrangement was unconventional at the time. Nowadays, people separate or divorce quite frequently in Ireland. In those days it was against the law. My parents found a way around the prohibition. Their wedding had taken place in Toronto (my mother being Canadian-born). They were able to apply for and obtain a divorce in England. At first the transition—to Dun Laoghaire, a ferry town eight miles south of the capital—was daunting. We lived over a shop in one of the less salubrious pockets of what is still an affluent suburb. The shop was to accommodate my stepfather’s...

Invasive bryozoans in Ireland: first record of Watersipora subtorquata (d'Orbigny, 1852) and an extension of the range of Tricellaria inopinata d’Hondt and Occhipinti Ambrogi, 1985

Two invasive bryozoan species were discovered at Dun Laoghaire Harbour, Dublin during a bryozoan survey. Watersipora subtorquata (d’Orbigny, 1852) and Tricellaria inopinata d’Hondt and Occhipinti Ambrogi, 1985 were discovered in Dun Laoghaire marina. Research shows that this is a first record for W. subtorquata in Ireland and a range extension for T. inopinata. In recent years the numbers of invasive marine species in Ireland has increased. The presence of these species within the marina and not in areas surrounding the marina suggests that they have been spread via shipping activities.

IRELAND BECKONS BIOTECH BUSINESS

IN A WELCOME boost, Ireland is seeing a wave of biotechnology investments and new companies. With pharmaceutical and chemical products making up more than 50% of Irish exports, such developments are vital to the country’s economy. Pfizer says it will invest $200 million to expand its Grange Castle biotech manufacturing facility near Clondalkin. The site is already Pfizer’s largest investment in Ireland and the only facility in Europe to manufacture biopharmaceuticals, pharmaceuticals, and vaccines at one location, the company says. The move, Pfizer adds, will strengthen its manufacturing and supply network. According to the industrial development agency IDA Ireland , Pfizer is Ireland’s largest pharmaceutical investor, having spent more than $7 billion there. But Pfizer has been shedding other Irish operations. In March it sold its Dun Laoghaire biologics formulation and fill facility to Amgen. Three months later its bulk biologics plant in Shanbally went to BioMarin Pharmaceutical Meanwhile, mergers invo...

Loving Warrior, Gentle Rebel: Michael Corry, 1948 – 2010

Dr. Michael Corry died at his home in Clara Vale, Ireland, on February 22, 2010, after a short illness. He was a fearless campaigner for the rights of mental health service users and all those suffering psychological distress, an opponent of biopsychiatry and its reliance on psychopharmacology, an implacable campaigner for the abolition of electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) as a so-called therapy, and a compassionate healer appreciated by thousands of patients. After qualifying in 1973, Michael's career spanned work as a hospital doctor in Uganda in the Amin era before he qualified as a psychiatrist and psychotherapist, work as a public service psychiatrist in St. Brendan's Hospital in Dublin, and private practice. His imagination and desire to get things done powered both his work as director of the European Union (EU)-sponsored Resocialisation Project at St. Brendan's in the early 1980s and as a founder of the privately funded Clane Hospital in Kildare, where he served as consultant psychiatrist from the early days. He was a founder of the Institute of Psychosocial Medicine in Dun Laoghaire, County Dublin, in 1987, which developed from a four-partner practice into an organization with more than 20 practitioners and nationwide renown as a healing center and which also provides training courses and encourages research and advocacy. In June 2004, Michael began a series of articles on depression in the Irish Times that led to the establishment of the monthly Depression Dialogues seminars, which he moderated with his partner, Dr. Aine Tubridy, and to the launch of the depression dialogues Web site on St. Valentine's Day 2005. In 2006, he, together with a number of mental health campaigners who supported his existential approach to the treatment of psychological distress, set up The Wellbeing Foundation to pursue the aim of substituting an experiential, holistic, and compassionate approach to mental health for the drug-based and often dangerous and ineffective approach of conventional psychiatry. The Wellbeing Foundation's successful conference in October 2006, attended by almost 700 people, helped open a public debate on mental health difficulties and on modes of treatment that had previously been virtually absent. The Dialogues, the conference, and continued interventions by Dr. Corry and others were partly responsible for animating a wider patients' movement - or survivors' movement as many former patients prefer - and placing increasing pressure on conventional biopsychiatry, which had enjoyed an easy ride until then. Michael's work in campaigning for an end to electroshock "therapy" led to a private members bill being introduced into the Senate in 2008 that would bar the forced use of ECT - use without informed consent. While the government did not accept the bill as proposed, Minister for Mental Health John Moloney has started a consultation process that may lead to the first steps toward ending this practice. …

Rambles with Leo: A Howth Childhood

I remember the view from the Summit: the Mountains of Mourne to the north, the tips of the Snowdonia range of mountains in Wales to the east, and to the south, the usual foreshortened view of the coastline starting with Wicklow Head, then Bray Head and Dalkey Island, and the silhouettes of the Little Sug arloaf, the Big Sugarloaf, the curves of the Three Rock Mountain, sliding west ward into Kilmashogue and finally the smaller hill topped by the ruins of the Hellfire Club. To the west beyond the hazy cityscape stretch the level plains of County Kildare. This was Howth Peninsula, a promontory enclosing the north side of Dublin Bay, the point of the land topped by a handsome lighthouse whose raucous foghorn and swinging searchlight punctuated my childhood. Looking north, you see the Dolmen, mythically flung by Finn McCool from the Bog of Allen. Below is the demesne of Howth Castle, with its parkland and famous rhodo dendrons; the snug haven of Howth harbor dotted with sailboats and a fishing trawler just turning in at its mouth; a mile offshore is the jagged profile of Ire land s Eye, an uninhabited island with the ruins of an ancient monastery to the east and a Martello Tower to the west. Further out, opposite Malahide, is the smooth outline of Lambay Island, privately owned. Howth Peninsula was the semi-wild, unspoiled setting of my early child hood before we moved to County Wicklow in 1953, when I was twelve. As a young boy, I wandered over what Alexander Pope calls an isthmus of a middle state, with its interlacing pathways through the mauve and white heather, over the scenic golf course where I used to lie in wait behind a gorse bush and run off with balls that overshot the green, through Howth Castle demesne to buy vegetables, exploring the miles of exposed cliff paths that wiggled around most of the peninsula. At snug lookout points along the path, I could see the reas suring little launch chugging over to Ireland's Eye, a favorite place for family pic nics; I could see the dredgers and tugboats breasting the waves of Dublin Bay, and across the bay, the mail boat from Holyhead slowing down as it prepared to swing into the entrance of Dun Laoghaire harbor. And I watched the Drag

Snow

It's the late 70's in Ireland and it's pretty grim. Michael Logan is walking home from his girlfriend's (Rita) house in Harold's Cross, a working class suburb of Dublin. It's late, Michael has missed the last bus, and it has just begun to snow. Michael is in his forties and works as a Harbour Policeman in Dun Laoghaire, seven miles outside of the city. As he starts the long walk home, Michael's thoughts turn to Rita and how they first met. Rita is 35, and a decent woman. Michael is very fond of her, but he does not love her. As he continues his walk, he delves more and more into the past, and we learn of Susan, a free spirited woman he loved over 20 years previously. We learn of his relationship, and of the kind of life that Michael lived in 1950s Ireland. We see Michael as a bright and energetic young man, trying to forge a new world and break away from the traditional conventions. We also learn of a great personal tragedy that prevented Susan and Michael from being together.

NORTH–SOUTH COORDINATION IN IRELAND'S INTERNATIONAL RIVER BASIN DISTRICTS

The EU Water Framework Directive (WFD) aims to promote common approaches, standards and measures for water management on a systematic and comparable basis throughout the EU. All waters must be managed on the basis of natural geographical areas called river basin districts (RBDs). Within the EU many RBDs are shared by member states. These cross-border districts are called international RBDs (IRBDs), in accordance with Article 3.3 of the WFD. Member states are required to coordinate their efforts in these international districts, with the aim of produc ing a single river basin management plan covering each entire district (Article 13.2). There are three IRBDs on the island of Ireland, all straddling the border between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland?the North Western, Neagh Bann and Shannon districts. The compe tent authorities identified in the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland with responsibility for implementation of the directive have taken significant steps to harmonise the approaches adopted in the two jurisdictions. So far, the competent authorities have maintained a high level of coordi nation and have successfully met all of the directive's milestones. Katie Murphy (corresponding author; email: Katie. Murphy@rpsgroup. com), RPS Consulting Engineers, West Pier Business Campus, Dun Laoghaire, Co. Dublin; Grace Glasgow, RPS Consulting Engineers, Elmwood House, 74 Boucher Road, Belfast, BT12 6RZ.

William Harford Rutherford

William Rutherford, whose death is announced, worked as a medical missionary for many years in India. He returned to work in accident and emergency medicine in Belfast. He was personally...

Nótaí na nEagarthóirí: Editors' Notes

Nótaí na nEagarthóirí:Editors’ Notes James Silas Rogers Emigration was a fact of Irish life for most of the past two centuries, and yet, at the "micro" level of the family, it has frequently been consigned to a cul-de-sac of silence and willful forgetting. Christine Cusick opens this issue with a memoir that tells of a moment when that wall of silence was lowered as, following the death of her mother, Cusick took time from her graduate studies to travel with her father and other members of her family to Ireland. Although there was no agenda to visit her grandfather's home town of Tourmakeady, County Mayo, the family found themselves inexplicably drawn there—where together, they faced an old and unadmitted wound that could, at last, begin to heal. These personal stories, Cusick reflects, should not—and probably cannot—be kept out of our academic postures. Currently editing a volume on Irish ecocriticism, Dr.Cusick wrote on the poet Moya Cannon in New Hibernia Review in 2005. Remembered today chiefly as the editor of genius who recruited the unknown Brian O'Nolan to write the "Cruiskeen Lawn" columns for the Irish Times, R.M. Smyllie assumed the editorship of what is now considered Ireland's national newspaper in 1934. Dr. Caleb Richardson describes the extraordinary transformation that Smylle worked on the paper over the next two decades. The paper he inherited was a fusty relic of a decaying Anglo-Irish Ascendancy, well on its way to irrelevance in national life. With panache and good humor, with an eye for journalistic talent, with political courage that included a willingness to take on the sacred cows of the new Free State, and with heroic eccentricity, Smyllie succeeded in "making the Irish Times matter to modern Ireland." Richardson is currently revising his dissertation, "That is Only War: Irish Writers and the Second World War," for publication. [End Page 5] Born in Listowel, County Kerry, in 1973, over the past decade John McAuliffe's steady contributions to poetry journals in Ireland, Britain, and the United States have confirmed the promise of his 2000 "Poet of the Future" award from RTÉ. Formerly director of the Dun Laoghaire Poetry Festival, and now teaching at the University of Manchester, McAuliffe has published two collections with Gallery Press, A Better Life, (2002) and this year's Next Door. In the new poems presented here, we find McAuliffe probing, with perceptive wit, contemporary tensions between motion, dislocation, and place: spotting himself in the rearview mirror in "Road Safety," or recording a hard slog through traffic to a family picnic in "A Hundred Towns." Yet, in poems like "A Minute," an elusive stillness also beckons: "before I fumble, in two minds, for the mobile / and directions, I've a minute to consider / the roads Sunday-quiet. . . ." It has become a truism to observe that the pastoral landscapes of Ireland often belie its violent past, as shown, for example, by successive waves of agrarian rebellion in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. The origins of one of the most violent of these rebellions are the concern of James S. Donnelly, Jr., in his essay on the early followers of "Captain Rock," the mythical leader of the agrarian upheaval of 1821–24. Donnelly shows that the ruthless behavior of the land agent Alexander Hoskins prompted a whole series of violent incidents on the estates of Viscount Courtenay around Newcastle West in County Limerick. The resistance to Hoskins and his assistants came not only from the many subtenants on Courtenay's estates but even, quite remarkably, from the Protestant middlemen whose interests Hoskins assailed. These events set off a much wider explosion of violence propelled by an incendiary combination of millennial predictions of Protestant doom, intense sectarian hostility, and a severe agricultural depression spanning the years 1819–23. Dr. Donnelly's numerous publications include such important works as The Land and the People of Nineteenth-Century Cork: The Rural Economy and the Land Question (1975); The Great Irish Potato Famine (2001); and the magisterial Encyclopedia of Irish History and Culture (2004), for which he served as editor-in-chief. Few American publications played the role of cultural...

A model for development of optimized feeder routes and coordinated schedules—A genetic algorithms approach

Many attempts have been made to solve bus route network design problems by splitting it in two stages, one for routing and the other for scheduling. Some researchers have made attempts to solve network design problems using non-traditional optimization techniques also, but not much has been done on modelling coordinated operations involving transfers from one mode to another. In this research, feeder routes and frequencies leading to schedule coordination of feeder buses with main transit are developed simultaneously using genetic algorithms. The coordinated schedules of feeder buses are determined for the existing given schedules of main transit. Thus the developed feeder routes and schedules are complementary to each other. As a case study the Dun Laoghaire Dublin Area Rapid Transit (DART) (heavy rail suburban service) station of Dublin in Ireland is selected. Finally the outcome of the research is a generated feeder route network for feeder buses and coordinated schedules of feeder buses for the existing schedules of DART at the selected station. The results of the proposed model indicate improved load factors on developed routes and also the overall load factor is also improved considerably as compared to the authors’ earlier model.

A Swiss Soldier In Ireland, 1689–90

In 1714 Jean Francois De Morsier wrote an account in French of his early years of soldiering. This ‘Journal’, a detailed record of the several campaigns in which De Morsier participated, written wi...

Venice and the Moving Image

Essay| August 01 2005 Venice and the Moving Image Maeve Connolly Maeve Connolly Maeve Connolly lectures in film and visual culture at Dun Laoghaire Institute of Art Design and Technology in Dublin. Ireland. Her writing on art and film has appeared in boundary 2, Contemporary, Variant, Circa and Third Text. Search for other works by this author on: This Site PubMed Google Scholar Afterimage (2005) 33 (1): 10–11. https://doi.org/10.1525/aft.2005.33.1.10 Views Icon Views Article contents Figures & tables Video Audio Supplementary Data Peer Review Share Icon Share Twitter LinkedIn Tools Icon Tools Get Permissions Cite Icon Cite Search Site Citation Maeve Connolly; Venice and the Moving Image. Afterimage 1 August 2005; 33 (1): 10–11. doi: https://doi.org/10.1525/aft.2005.33.1.10 Download citation file: Ris (Zotero) Reference Manager EasyBib Bookends Mendeley Papers EndNote RefWorks BibTex toolbar search Search Dropdown Menu toolbar search search input Search input auto suggest filter your search All ContentAfterimage Search This content is only available via PDF. © 2005 by The Regents of the University of California2005 Article PDF first page preview Close Modal You do not currently have access to this content.

The Structure and Growth Processes of Caudal Thorns

Caudal thorns from bathyrajids, for which surface band patterns have previously been correlated with an annual cycle of vertebral band deposition, were examined to ascertain the underlying growth band structure with a view to understanding their growth processes. Caudal thorn samples from Bathyraja brachyurops, a commercial ray species from the Falkland Islands were sectioned transversely using both resin embedding and decalcification/wax embedding procedures. Sectioning revealed that internal bands formed as a series of cones underlying each other, and that broad surface broad bands formed annually during periods of rapid somatic growth. Surface ridges representing a near stasis in somatic growth formed at the periphery of each cone. This proposed growth process was further verified by the incorporation of tetracycline at the periphery of caudal thorns from a tag-recaptured bathyrajid. The benefits of using sectioning to enhance band resolution of larger specimens of slower growing species, particularly in the case of worn and tightly spaced surface band patterns are also discussed. Introduction In the majority of ray species caudal thorns are found securely embedded in the caudal tissue overlying the spinal column. It is probable that they have a defensive function, and may also assist in the emergence from the egg case. The surface bands of caudal thorns from bathyrajids have previously been correlated with an annual cycle of vertebral band deposition (Gallagher and Nolan, 1999). For a structure to be used as a valid ageing tool it is important to have an understanding of its growth and band formation processes (Cailliet, et al., 1983; Casselman, 1987). To date, however it is unclear how growth bands form in caudal thorns, and how the surface sculpture relates to the underlying morphology. Furthermore bathyrajids are typically slow growing species (Gallagher and Nolan, 1999) and therefore difficulties have been encountered in resolving both worn bands near the thorn tip and tightly spaced bands towards the periphery (Gallagher, 2000). Sectioning of growth structures has previously been recommended for both vertebral centra and dorsal fin spines to help improve band resolution, particularly in slow growing elasmobranchs (Cailliet, 1990; Branstetter and Musick, 1994). This study investigates the structure and growth processes of caudal thorns from Bathyraja brachyurops, a commercially important bathyrajid from the Falkland Islands, which an ageing study using whole caudal thorns has been carried out previously (Gallagher and Nolan, 1999). * Current address; Irish Sea Fisheries Board (BIM), Crofton Road, Dun Laoghaire, Co. Dublin, Ireland.

Re-Negotiated Territory

Essay| August 01 2001 Re-Negotiated Territory: The Politics of Place, Space and Landscape in Irish Photography Justin Carville Justin Carville Justin Carville teaches Historical & Theoretical Studies in Photography at Dun Laoghaire Institute of Art, Design & Technology in Dublin. Search for other works by this author on: This Site PubMed Google Scholar Afterimage (2001) 29 (1): 5–9. https://doi.org/10.1525/aft.2001.29.1.5 Views Icon Views Article contents Figures & tables Video Audio Supplementary Data Peer Review Share Icon Share Twitter LinkedIn Tools Icon Tools Get Permissions Cite Icon Cite Search Site Citation Justin Carville; Re-Negotiated Territory: The Politics of Place, Space and Landscape in Irish Photography. Afterimage 1 August 2001; 29 (1): 5–9. doi: https://doi.org/10.1525/aft.2001.29.1.5 Download citation file: Ris (Zotero) Reference Manager EasyBib Bookends Mendeley Papers EndNote RefWorks BibTex toolbar search Search Dropdown Menu toolbar search search input Search input auto suggest filter your search All ContentAfterimage Search This content is only available via PDF. © 2001 by The Regents of the University of California2001 Article PDF first page preview Close Modal You do not currently have access to this content.