Reviewed by: The Irish Art of Controversy Julian Hanna The Irish Art of Controversy. Lucy McDiarmid . Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2005. Pp. xvii + 280. $29.95 (paper). "Great hatred, little room / Maimed us at the start," Yeats mourned in "Remorse for Intemperate Speech" (1). But, as Lucy McDiarmid argues in her delightful and meticulously researched book, the Irish have taken the curse of controversy and remodeled it as a blessing. Controversy has become "a type of dúchas or heritage," a form of "national cultural capital" (211). Moreover, controversy has remodeled Ireland: the national disputes described in these five chapters are disputes over national identity, and "not Irish Ireland or English Ireland, but whose Irish Ireland? Whose version of Ireland would dominate when independence was finally achieved?" (3). McDiarmid discovers the drama of national identity enacted on the "small site[s]" of particular [End Page 580] controversies (7). Her case, built on finely detailed examples that blend fieldwork and archival study, is extremely compelling. "The available evidence is enough for an entire book on any single controversy," (8) she admits, and at times the book reads like a sampler of Irish history. The book transcends its putative subject matter, however, to take on the larger history of modern Irish identity, eventually finding "the Ireland of Mary Robinson and Sinéad O'Connor" in the pre-1916 Ireland of Casement, Yeats, and others (199). The compact timeline of the controversies' origins, 1908–1916, belies a project of far greater scope. In most cases, the controversy outlives the controversialist, and McDiarmid traces the posthumous history of each case right up to the present day. This pattern gives the chapters a slightly predictable feel, but it allows new light to be shed on old arguments, and indeed much of the book's freshest research is to be found in these "afterlives." The book begins with the story most likely to be familiar to readers: the Hugh Lane bequest of paintings for a municipal gallery in Dublin. In this first chapter, the controversy surrounds proposals for a suitable building to house the paintings. Lane stipulated that it had to be somewhere central, to attract passersby; a corner of St. Stephen's Green was suggested, but after that fell through Lane grew more stubborn, insisting on a plan by Sir Edwyn Lutyens to build the gallery over the Liffey, no less. This move turned an initially welcoming public against him and lost him the support of Sinn Féin and other organizations, and the project became a white elephant. When Lane went down with the Luisitania in May 1915, the already eventful history of the thirty-nine impressionist paintings was just beginning. A codicil to his will reversed the rash (or strategic?) decision to send the paintings back to London, but the document, though initialed on each page by Lane, was never witnessed. (Even without this formality it would have been legal in Scotland, or if Lane had been killed at the Front instead of torpedoed at sea.) When the British government officially refused to return the paintings in 1926, Lane's unlikely journey to Irish sainthood was underway. Unlikely, because at the height of the controversy many Dubliners saw Lane, a fussy aesthete whose only "militancy" was his taste, as a snobbish title-seeker at best, and a neocolonial landlord figure at worst. De Valera sang Lane's praises in his introductory remarks to a state-commissioned biography in 1932. Then in 1956, one of the paintings, Berthe Morisot's Jour d'été, was temporarily "liberated" by two Irish students, who arranged to have their photograph taken with the national treasure on the steps of the Tate Gallery. Complicated arguments for joint custody of the paintings finally settled the matter in 1959, and the first paintings were returned to Dublin in 1961. By 1991, the year Dublin was voted European City of Culture, Lane's vision of a cosmopolitan capital inhabited by "Irish Europeans" had come true (18). Readers will find themselves reluctant to leave the Lane controversy behind, but other chapters reveal a similar depth of research and strong sense of narrative. The book progresses through an overlapping chronology of provocations, public martyrdoms...