This book examines the phenomenon of the rise and fall of the Irish Celtic Tiger from a cultural perspective. It looks at Ireland's regression from prosperity to austerity in terms of a society as opposed to just an economy. Using literary and cultural theory, it looks at how this period was influenced by, and in its turn influenced, areas such as religion, popular culture, politics, literature, photography, gastronomy, music, theatre, poetry and film. It seeks to provide some answers as to what exactly happened to Irish society in the past few decades of boom and bust. The socio-cultural rather than the purely economic lens it uses to critique the Celtic Tiger is useful because society and culture are inevitably influenced by what happens in the economic sphere. That said, all of the measures taken in the wake of the financial crash sought to find solutions to aid the ailing economy, and the social and cultural ramifications were shamefully neglected. The aim of this book therefore is to bring the ‘Real’ of the socio-cultural consequences of the Celtic Tiger out of the darkness and to initiate a debate that is, in some respects, equally important as the numerous economic analyses of recent times. The essays analyse how culture and society are mutually-informing discourses and how this synthesis may help us to more fully understand what happened in this period, and more importantly, why it happened.
Identity is often regarded as something that is possessed by individuals, states, and other agents. In this edited collection, identity is explored across a range of approaches and under-explored case studies with a view to making visible its fractured, contingent, and dynamic features. The book brings together themes of belonging and exclusion, identity formation and fragmentation. It also examines how identity functions in discourse, and the effects it produces, both materially and in ideational terms. Taking in case studies from Asia-Pacific, Europe, the Middle East and Latin America, the various chapters interrogate identity through formal governing mechanisms, popular culture and place. These studies demonstrate the complex and fluid nature of identity and identity practices, as well as implications for theorising identity.
This book examines the impact that nostalgia has had on the Labour Party’s political development since 1951. In contrast to existing studies that have emphasised the role played by modernity, it argues that nostalgia has defined Labour’s identity and determined the party’s trajectory over time. It outlines how Labour, at both an elite and a grassroots level, has been and remains heavily influenced by a nostalgic commitment to an era of heroic male industrial working-class struggle. This commitment has hindered policy discussion, determined the form that the modernisation process has taken and shaped internal conflict and cohesion. More broadly, Labour’s emotional attachment to the past has made it difficult for the party to adjust to the socioeconomic changes that have taken place in Britain. In short, nostalgia has frequently left the party out of touch with the modern world. In this way, this book offers an assessment of Labour’s failures to adapt to the changing nature and demands of post-war Britain.
The Celtic Tiger and the new Irish religious
The Celtic Tiger and the religious market
Many assume that the Celtic Tiger has devoured religion. However,
a careful examination of data does not fully support this analysis. In
the view of recent developments, it may even be argued that religiosity remained part of life for most Irish people throughout the Celtic
Tiger years. John Waters once commented that in spite of Ireland’s
disaffection with the Catholic Church ‘there [was] no such thing as an
ex-Catholic’ in Ireland (Waters 1997, p
was at the centre of a religious struggle with Mary Queen of Scots over the primacy of Presbyterianism versus Catholicism. In 1558, he published his famous First Blast of the Trumpet Against the Monstrous Regiment of Women.
Yet, although the Church of Scotland remained a very patriarchal organisation over the years, the majority of churchgoers were women and from 1888 women were ordained as deaconesses and allowed to preach. In 1969, the first woman minister was appointed and in 2004 the first female moderator of the General Assembly; there have now been four
vote and parliament. The campaign for female suffrage became the major
feature of what is called ‘first-wave feminism’.
The ‘first wave’ of
feminism (roughly 1830–1930) was similar to other nineteenth-century
political campaigns, such as Catholic emancipation or anti-slavery, in which
women had been active. These early feminist philosophical arguments were
translated into political
by priests in recent years could
well have led to an expectation of guilt in the case of Fr Reynolds. What
saved many clerical child offenders in the past was precisely the opposite
view: very few could conceive of any priest or religious being responsible
for heinous crimes against children. So the system can work in different
ways, but the end result is always severe myopia when it comes to the
faults within a group where orthodoxy and lack of critical capacity hold
The spectacular fall from grace of the Catholic Church in Ireland
Orange, or indeed Protestant, culture. Just as my Orange informants defined themselves as Protestant unionist loyalists via (very) frequent negative references to Catholic nationalist republicans, similar apophatic processes are observable across much of the ethnographic record. Ayala Fader, for example, documents how Hasidic Jewish women in Brooklyn define themselves and their families in oppositional (and openly racist) terms to their ‘goyim’ or Gentile neighbours ( 2009 : 160). In the same way, Maryon McDonald (1989) examines negative identity through language
perceived enemies also had a strong religious dimension. In the late eighteenth century both the Belfast Volunteers and the United Irishmen had linked political radicalism to religious toleration, supporting the removal of remaining legal restrictions on Catholics. Even at that point, however, as events at the Volunteer review of 1792 made clear, not all Protestants, even among the town’s reformers, were convinced that Catholic political power would not constitute a serious threat to their religion, liberty and property. 36 The United Irishmen’s appeal for Protestants to
and men’ ( Miller 1977 : 142), including ‘nearly a hundred Catholic officers’ (ibid.: 143) who were not subjected to the Test Act. A year later, in 1686, James initiated a violent suppression of Scottish Presbyterian Covenanters whom he suspected of harbouring political as well as religious dissent – a period which came to be known as the ‘Killing Time’ ( Cowan 1968 : 50). In this same year, the King’s Secretary of State advised ‘a purge of office-holders in order to fill the court, the administration and the armed forces with … Catholic allies’ (ibid.: 151), a move