Sennachie and meitheal meet in Red Bank
Storytellers get together to benefit family
of stricken boy
PHOTOS BY CHRIS KELLY Jim Flanagan, a writing teacher at Asbury Park High School, helps keep the centuries-old tradition of the Irish storyteller, or “shenachie,” alive and well. Flanagan spins yarns that detail his youth as a member of a working class Irish-Catholic family in post World War II Jersey City.
Ireland is a nation where heartbreak and sorrow are no strangers. This is the land that has struggled through the plight of a great famine, and through the many years of The Troubles, a political/religious conflict that has scarred a culture. Yet the indomitability of the human spirit does prevail, and that can be seen in the Irish people’s love of the tale and the song.
The tradition of the storyteller — "sennachie" or "shenachie" in the ancient Celtic language — continues locally, thanks to the efforts of those participating in the Irish Heritage Series, sponsored by Brookdale Community College, Middletown.
The sennachie has been part of the Celtic tradition from time immemorial as they traveled the country telling the tales of mythic heroes, like the adventures of Cuchulain — a mix of Homer’s Odysseus, Beowulf, and Superman with a brogue — explained Jack Ryan, adjunct professor of literature at Brookdale and athletic director of the college.
There is also a real love of humor and quizzical observations of the everyday, as well as an affinity for music, as part of the tradition. This is seen in the tales which tend to meld the ancestral pagan and Celtic traditions with the influences of Christian teachings, Ryan said.
Danielle Strollo of West Long Branch plays her violin during a session of Irish storytelling at the Dublin House in Red Bank.
The Celts’ love of "blarney" — the story — especially in the oral tradition, may be attributable to the fact that written language didn’t come to Ireland until the fifth century, which is relatively late compared to other cultures, Ryan said.
"It is an evolving tradition, changing over the last three, four centuries," he noted. "Because it is oral, it changes with the storyteller."
Ryan often collaborates with Carl Calendar, the division chairman of the Humanities Department at Brookdale, and others to hold storytelling sessions that combine tales of traditional Celtic folklore with readings of William Butler Yeats, one of Ireland’s pre-eminent poets, as well as other stories.
These sessions are held at Brookdale, sometimes at locations in "The Irish Riviera" (the Spring Lake-Sea Girt shore area) and New York City. The group periodically appears at Red Bank’s The Dublin House Pub and Restaurant, 30 Monmouth St., for the "Poetry In The Pub" series.
Ryan and Calendar held one of their sennachie sessions at The Dublin House Sunday for a fund-raiser to assist the family of Jack Perry, a 4-year-old who just lost his two-year battle with cancer.
Assisting Ryan and Calendar in carrying on the bardic tradition was Jim Flanagan, who teaches writing at Asbury Park High School; Bob Shulman and John Flanagan, members of the Jersey Shore Story Tellers; as well as musician Tom Brennan, and violinist Danielle Strollo, 16, of West Long Branch (whom Jim Flanagan described as "a fiddler").
This fund-raising effort also has a historic Irish tradition, according to Ryan.
When hardship struck, traditionally an informal group called a "meitheal" would band together to provide some assistance.
"It’s the community coming together for a bona fide need," Ryan explained.
"This is a bona fide need," he said.
Ryan regaled the audience with "The Cattle Raid of Cooley" — Tain Boculaigna in Celtic — a tale from the Ulster cycle of the great Irish epics.
Cattle raiding, as it did in America’s Old West, played a significant part in Irish history, Ryan said.
"Cattle raiding was a major expression of how you felt about your neighbor," he said.
This tale detailed a rebellion of area farmers against the local landowner and a member of nobility; it describes how his wife factors in the raid.
"And if there’s a word of truth in what I’m tellin’ ya here, I’m not tellin’ ya a lie," Ryan proclaimed at the end of his yarn.
Jim Flanagan takes a different path in his storytelling. His are tales of his youth in post WWII, blue-collar, Irish-Catholic Jersey City.
Flanagan’s yarn was entitled "The Great Waldo Avenue Horse Manure Fight." It is a story about a time and a place when people thought they were rich simply for having a house to live in, let alone owning it. And it was a time when children created toys out of the mundane, and the fun was boundless.
About 50 years ago, horse-drawn peddlers were commonplace — and, of course, where there are horses there is certainly you-know-what.
Flanagan and his pals would use the manure as a sort of "summer snowball," he said.
Flanagan’s story was an evocative, nostalgic, and very funny picture postcard, relying on the universal appeal of the innocence of youth, seen through the looking glass of his particular childhood.
"It was the grandest of times," he recalled.
"That was part of my youth, and I haven’t changed," Flanagan admitted. He added that it has been some time since he has thrown any equine excrement.
"I shower more regularly now," he acknowledged.
"Alternating between humor and pathos — that’s a very Irish thing," according to Calendar.
Calendar said that he, Flanagan and Ryan are doing this in addition to their teaching responsibilities, not only to perpetuate a centuries-old tradition, but to help bring the tradition to people who wouldn’t have an opportunity to experience it.
"We’re very egalitarian," Calendar said. "We’re Dr. Calendar and Dr. Flanagan, but by teaching at Brookdale and Asbury Park, we reach more people than if we taught at Harvard."
It was a sad state of affairs that brought them there — the death of one so young — noted Kevin Lynn, the Dublin House’s proprietor. But the bringing of humor and music at a terrible time is not intended as an attempt to trivialize grief and awful events, but more as a defense mechanism.
Lynn was born in Ireland before moving to Queens, N.Y., as a boy. He spent his career as an English teacher and as a self- described "saloon keeper."
In the old country, as well as in Irish American communities, funerals and wakes are often punctuated by laughs and music, and the occasional imbibing.
"A bit of good crack," as it is referred to in Ireland, Lynn explained, means it is a bit of fun.
"The truth cannot be uttered at this point because the truth is too terrible to speak," said Flanagan about the tragic loss of young Jack Perry, and possibly other recent events.
" But here we are with our hearts open," Flanagan said in his introduction. "And the order of the day is music, the order of the day is laughter, and the order of the day is hope."