Search results

Photography and the post­Celtic Tiger landscape
Justin Carville

transparent depiction of the object devoid of any aesthetic distraction. His series of empty houses from what have now colloquially become known as ‘ghost estates’, and the prefabricated vacant units of industrial parks, are almost Topographies of terror 109 Figure 1  Dara McGrath, N11 Kilmacanogue, from the series By the Way, 2002. © Dara McGrath planar in their repetitive depiction of the façades of the built environment that fill the pictorial space of the photograph. The attention to the rectilinear details of urban and suburban development, and the visual

in From prosperity to austerity
Abstract only
The Celtic Tiger and poetry as social critique
Eóin Flannery

standpoint the assonant ‘a’ of ‘estate’ completes an internal rhyme with the opening line, but it is the evocations of the word ‘estate’ itself that are most arresting in both historical and contemporary contexts. Of course, the term is part of the contemporary moniker ‘ghost estate’, which haunts and defaces these landscapes, but the notion, and memory, of a landed estate is equally provocative in the longer-­term histories of Ireland’s scattered localities. Perhaps it was crude and simplistic to align the country’s appetite for property and fetishization of home o

in From prosperity to austerity
Abstract only
The conservative revolutionaries
Gary Murphy

politicians, tribunals that for all their faults showed up a covert and complex system of payments from developers to politicians in charge of the re-zoning of public lands. Such re-zoning decisions taken by local councillors to allow planning permission for residential housing had the potential to vastly increase the value of lands owned or controlled by developers. In that context the decisions had significant consequences for Irish public life and for the private lives of those made rich by these deals and those whose lives were blighted by negative equity, ghost estates

in Electoral competition in Ireland since 1987
Elaine A. Byrne

granted on an ad-hoc basis in a not fully transparent way’.42 This includes the 2000–07 Special Incentive Tax Rate for developers which sought to free up land for development by taxing proceeds from the sale of land at 20 per cent instead of the higher rate of up to 42 per cent. The cost to the exchequer because of this tax incentive is estimated in the region of €800 million.43 In 2010, the excess supply of houses was estimated at 345,116, or 17 per cent of all housing and more than 620 half-empty or unfinished ‘ghost estates’.44 Moreover, the Finance Act 1994 and

in Political corruption in Ireland, 1922–2010
Monsters of post-Celtic Tiger Ireland
Kieran Keohane and Carmen Kuhling

surplus only by organizing its legions of zombie-­labour. The zombie is the proletarian subject of the dawn of the dead as the age of global total capitalism. As Deleuze and Guattari put it, ‘the only modern myth is the myth of zombies – mortified schizos, good for work’ (Deleuze and Guittari 1983, p. 335). It is now a common view that post-­Celtic Tiger Ireland is a haunted landscape of ghost estates and zombie banks cannibalizing the State (Kirby 2010), but to see the full horror as Ireland’s night of the living dead unfolds it is important to understand the cultural

in From prosperity to austerity
Neil Murphy

with younger Irish writers: ‘It is disappointing when you read a young novelist who seems to make no effort at all to engage with modernity’, although he concedes that writers should write as they wish (cited in Flood 2010). Revealing an awareness of modernity in one’s fiction is not quite the same as writing Celtic Tiger fiction that focuses on the housing boom and/or ghosts estates, irregular banking practices or political corruption. Gough, after all, admires both Mike McCormack and Kevin Barry, two of the more technically innovative younger Irish writers, neither

in From prosperity to austerity
George Legg

promise of a new metropolis. This would be a city of desire and desirability, an arena of enticement and seduction. In many ways, Craigavon was a radically new endeavour: one that would propel Northern Ireland’s stagnating postwar economy towards the bright lights of economic regeneration, multinational capital and lavish consumerism. But despite its promise, the project struggled and never managed to attract the levels of industry or residency originally anticipated. Instead, Craigavon became an urban environment punctuated by abandoned junctions and ghost estates

in Northern Ireland and the politics of boredom