Ireland’s love-hate relationship with its rebellious women
It’s hard not to juxtapose how we mourn our female trailblazers with how we treated them during their biggest moments…
Some coincidences leave you particularly incredulous. Like the chances of having an author’s latest book sitting in the bag in your hands when you read the headline ‘Acclaimed Irish writer Edna O’Brien passes away’, and realise it is now also, officially, their last book.
I had O’Brien’s ‘Girl’ on the ‘to read’ list for months before I finally picked up a copy the other week, during one of my routine (completely unnecessary) sprees in Charlie Byrne’s in Galway. I’d been recommended it a while ago, but had opted for other, lighter titles in the period since – not in the mood to read what I’d assumed could only be a very heavy plotline after reading the synopsises of the 2019 novel, which follows the struggles of a young girl kidnapped by jihadist group Boko Haram.
I’d also been slightly discouraged by the contrasting credit and criticism surrounding the book since its release. The book had had rave reviews and won the Women’s Prize, but it was by no means universally praised. Mollified somewhat by the fact that O’Brien had indeed done extensive research on ‘Girl’s subject matter – travelling to Nigeria in her 80s to interview real-life victims of Boko Haram’s atrocities and various experts – controversy nonetheless arose around the question of whether O’Brien should’ve opted to write a non-fiction account inspired by her research, so as to let the real victims’ experiences take precedence, as well as whether an old, white, Irish woman was the correct person to tell a story like ‘Girl’ in the first place.
Where O’Brien’s voice fits more naturally, of course, is in the works which made her name, works which centre on the struggles of Irish women and girls: her 1960 debut, ‘The Country Girls’, and the other two ensuing books in that eponymous trilogy. It is these books that Edna O’Brien is fastest associated with and most praised for – although this was certainly not always the case.
Upon release, ‘The Country Girls’ sparked a roar of controversy in Ireland. For her frank portrayals of the inner lives of Irish women and their sex lives, O’Brien was accused of “corrupting the minds of young women”. And her early books were not just widely criticised; they were placed on the censorship index and banned, they were literally denounced from the pulpit. The misogynistic, conservative society critiqued in O’Brien’s work swiftly imposed the very same unjust repression she had denounced on the page right onto her – ironically, exemplifying the societal constraints and moral judgements she had, in their view, supposedly invented for her novels.
But of course O’Brien’s condemnation in her native country did not stand the test of time. Her reputation, by the time of her passing, had long ago evolved to that of a revered literary icon, a writer celebrated for ground-breaking contributions and fearless exploration of complex themes. In the flurry of tributes that have been cropping up since her death, she is credited with “transforming Irish society”, being “one of our most fearless trailblazers” and “among Ireland’s most beloved writers”.
Time has a lot to do with the complete turnaround Ireland’s perception of O’Brien has done over the decades – a modern reading of ‘The Country Girls’ is a far different thing than reading it circa 1960. And in some sense, any before-their-time artist will eventually by vindicated as cultural shifts, evolving social norms, and increased acceptance of diverse perspectives set in over time. But the gulf between O’Brien’s 1960 reputation and her 2024 one feels especially cavernous due to just how passionate her early critics were – particularly, because the initial condemnation that greeted her was a brand specifically reserved for Irish women who dared step outside their prescribed roles; it’s one thing to be controversial, but to be controversial when your ‘job’ is to conform, be quiet, and serve… is another grievance entirely.
This pattern is not unique to O’Brien. Facing early criticism but eventual acclaim is a trajectory that has greeted many other Irish women who have rebelled against the country’s traditional values and institutions.
Take the late Sinéad O’Connor, another woman to experience this love-hate reception from Irish society; initially denounced for her outspoken nature and defiance of norms, only to have her contributions reassessed and celebrated years later.
Like O’Brien, there were several points in O’Connor’s career which were dominated by her country’s misplaced condemnation of her assertiveness, her nonconformity, her willingness to address taboo subjects, etc. Like O’Brien, there were several significant periods during which Irish society regarded her as a totally vilified figure. But by the time of her passing – a day shy of being exactly a year before O’Brien’s – the tide had long since turned for O’Connor too, and she received similarly glowing tributes from the public.
O’Connor’s complicated relationship with fame and the country’s turbulent relationship with how she was regarded at any one time added a weird, complex layer to the discourse following her passing. At some points, as if there’d been an effort to overcorrect, the tsunami of undiluted posthumous praise felt almost omissive. Like suggesting there’d only every been praise in the first place. But really Ireland loves O’Connor like Ireland loves O’Brien; decades after hating her like the devil for years. Like playing catch-up. Like making up for something.
Like many other Irish women, both O’Brien and O’Connor’s biggest career moments – their most visible, vulnerable moments – were the moments in which Ireland vilified, rather than venerated them. And that is a great pity, but hopefully, a fading precedent.
It is a good thing surely that in any case, we as a country have indeed finally come around to giving women like O’Brien and O’Connor the credit they deserve, not just for the art they created but for the dual service they achieved in opening up wider, incredibly important societal conversations. Hopefully the trailblazing Irish women who come after them, who were perhaps inspired by them, will not have the same challenges to contend with.
