At the time of his death in 1945, Albert Power was the leading nationalist sculptor in the Irish Free State, yet within a few decades he was almost forgotten. This first major examination of his life and career tells of one artist’s contribution to national identity before and after political independence. In sculpture, at that time, the emphasis was on creating a pantheon of ‘new’ Irish heroes by means of monumental and portrait commissions. Power’s work, however, sprang from deeply held nationalist beliefs and he felt that subject matter alone was insufficient to ensure a distinctive Irish art. Wherever possible he deliberately chose native stone, believing that this best conveyed a nationalist sentiment, such as the limestone he used in the beloved monument to Padraic Ó Conaire in Galway. His political commissions from 1922 onward reveal the new State’s desire for a national political and cultural identity, and in this book Power’s sculpture is explored both at the time of its production and within the broader context of writers and artists who wished to contribute to the new nation’s cultural identity, a legacy that modern Ireland enjoys today.

‘Remember now as you go by, as you are now so once was I ...’ From unmarked plots to striking monuments, Glasnevin Cemetery has become home to a microcosm of Irish society since it opened its gates in 1832. Every grave has a story to tell, but with more than a million souls resting there, many of these stories have been long forgotten. So Once Was I sets out to celebrate the quirky, strange and sometimes unbelievable tales of lesser-known figures in Ireland’s famous cemetery. Representing all threads of Irish society’s rich tapestry, from lion tamers to pioneering aviators, the mistress of the macabre to a mysterious, murderous count, forgotten revolutionaries to the mammy of Irish cooking, the cemetery’s population is reanimated in this book through vivid retellings of their lives. This intriguing tour through the national necropolis brings back to life those Joyce called the ‘faithful dead’, an intricate mosaic of stories rediscovered among the grandeur of Glasnevin’s famed monuments.

This collection considers Irish monuments from the medieval to the modern era. The essays presented here acknowledge the plurality of values associated with Irish monuments. Taking a holistic approach to the topic, the volume contains contributions from art historians, archaeologists, historians and heritage practitioners. The multidisciplinary and intersectoral contributions are placed in dialogue with one another, providing a discussion of Irish monuments that is unique in its comprehensiveness. The integration of research on early Irish monumental work with that of the more modern period, situating all Irish monuments on a continuum of shared concerns, is a significant pioneering element in this field. The range of perspectives represented in the book reflects the complexity of cultural heritage in contemporary life and opens the conversation to include a wider range of views. It will be a valuable resource for scholars, students, learned societies, public bodies, communities in Ireland and for anyone interested in sculpture. An Open Access version of Kathleen James-Chakraborty's chapter 'New states and old statues: Ireland's monuments in an international context' is available on the Liverpool University Press website.

After civil war, can the winners commemorate their victory, hailing their conquering heroes with the blood of their former comrades still fresh on their boots? Or should they cover themselves in shame and hope that the nation soon forgets? In this book, Anne Dolan explores the tensions between memory and forgetting in twentieth-century Ireland. By examining the memory of winning the Irish Civil War, she discusses the extent to which it has been used to serve party political ends, where private grief finds consolation when the dead have fallen from political favour, and how the dead are remembered when no one wanted to fight the war. The book addresses the Irish Civil War at its most public point: at the statues and crosses, and in the ritual and rhetoric of commemoration. It will be of central interest to all students and scholars of European history and politics.

Remembering the Irish Revolution chronicles the ways in which the Irish revolution was remembered in the first two decades of Irish independence. While tales of heroism and martyrdom dominated popular accounts of the revolution, a handful of nationalists reflected on the period in more ambivalent terms. For them, the freedoms won in revolution came with great costs: the grievous loss of civilian lives, the brutalisation of Irish society, and the loss of hope for a united and prosperous independent nation. To many nationalists, their views on the revolution were traitorous. For others, they were the courageous expression of some uncomfortable truths. This volume explores these struggles over revolutionary memory through the lives of four significant, but under-researched nationalist intellectuals: Eimar O'Duffy, P. S. O'Hegarty, George Russell, and Desmond Ryan. It provides a lively account of their controversial critiques of the Irish revolution, and an intimate portrait of the friends, enemies, institutions and influences that shaped them. Based on wide-ranging archival research, Remembering the Irish Revolution puts the history of Irish revolutionary memory in a transnational context. It shows the ways in which international debates about war, human progress, and the fragility of Western civilisation were crucial in shaping the understandings of the revolution in Ireland. It provides a fresh context for analysis the major writers of the period, such as Sean O'Casey, W. B. Yeats, and Sean O'Faolain, as well as a new outlook on the genesis of the revisionist/nationalist schism that continues to resonate in Irish society today.

The Quest for the Irish Celt is the fascinating story of Harvard University’s five-year archaeological research programme in Ireland during the 1930s to determine the racial and cultural heritage of the Irish people. The programme involved country-wide excavations and the examination of prehistoric skulls by physical anthropologists, and was complemented by the physical examinations of thousands of Irish people from across the country; measuring skulls, nose-shape and grade of hair colour. The Harvard scientists’ mission was to determine who the Celts were, what was their racial type, and what element in the present-day population represented the descendants of the earliest inhabitants of the island. Though the Harvard Mission was hugely influential, there were theories of eugenics involved that would shock the modern reader. The main adviser for the archaeology was Adolf Mahr, Nazi and Director of the National Museum (1934–39). The overall project was managed by Earnest A. Hooton, famed Harvard anthropologist, whose theories regarding biological heritage would now be readily condemned for their racism. Mairéad Carew explores this extraordinary archaeological mission, examining its historic importance for Ireland and Irish-America, its landmark findings, and the unseemly activities that lay just beneath the surface.

The book examines one aspect of the national self-image of Ireland as it was trans-generationally transmitted in the Irish National School environment through the medium of the Celtic mythology tales. Celtic mythology embodied a unique Irishness without being contentious in the wider social and political spheres and the texts had the capability to impart a national self-image, a character and ideological model for the young generation to follow and exemplify, while concurrently act as a sanctuary in which a unique, neutral, Irish self-past and contemporary self-image could be connected to. From 1922 onwards a state-run National School curriculum was set up to propagate a national ideal through the teaching of the Irish language, Irish history and a rekindled awareness of Ireland’s unique past. The mythology tales were employed to portray this unique past and their inclusion in the textbooks provided a platform for the policies of the inculcation of national pride, self-respect and self-image in the Irish nation, official government and Department policy following the Second National Programme Conference and Report in 1926. The aim of this book is an imagological one focusing on what made these tales ideological. The study incorporates a triangular approach: contextual, intertextual and textual. It is at the point of intersection between 4 specialisms: the historical study of Irish nationalism; the history of culture and education in 20th century Ireland; imagology and corpus linguistics. The conclusions drawn are based upon factual, statistical information garnered from the analyses conducted on the corpus and utilise information that is concrete and not hypothetical. This volume is of interest for all those working in Irish school literature, Irish studies – especially cultural, intellectual and educational history of Ireland, imagology and European studies.