2003summer

G LENSTAL N EWSLET TER

www.glenstal.ie/ubique ubique@glenstal.org

The Last of the Glenstal Barringtons SIR FITZWILLIAM BARRINGTON 1909-2003

Fitzwilliam’s next sight of Glenstal was not until 1939, when he paid a short visit to Ireland.

lexander Fitzwilliam C r o k e r Barrington (known as “Fitz” by his family), was born in the “Blue Room” of Glenstal Castle, on 19 November 1909, the son of Sir Charles and Lady Mary Rose Barrington. He was the third child, as already there was a girl, Winifred, and a boy, Charles(known as “Pat”). The Barringtons, who had built Glenstal Castle in the 183 Os, lived in considerable splendour, with an indoor staff of twelve, and as many working outdoors on the grounds. They had their own generator for electric light, ran two cars, but had no telephone.

Fitzwilliam’s mother, who was descended from Sir Francis Bacon, the Elizabethan Statesman, had inherited a considerable property in the heart of London, including Chancery Lane. Upon leaving school, Fitzwilliam found himself involved in run nin g th is famil y business. When war broke out in 1939, he joined the British Flying Corps, and was sent to the Far East.

Eventually captured by the Japanese, he spent four years in a prisoner-of-war camp in Formosa.

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Fitzwilliam had an idyllic childhood. From the age of six to nine he had a governess, who taught him the usual subjects (English, French, mathematics, history), but he was free to wander the grounds, and retained all through life a love of nature. He spent five years at Castle Park Preparatory Boarding School, Dalkey, Co. Dublin, before going to Shrewsbury Public School, in England. Up to 1924, he returned to Glenstal for the summer holidays.

However, in 1925, his parents sold Glenstal castle and Estate, and

On his release, he returned to England. His health was not good, and it took him a number of years to recover from his wartime experiences. He never married, but settled in London where he worked in publishing, collaborating with Graham Greene amongst other famous writers. In 1979, on the death of his brother, Sir C h a r l es , F it z w i l l i am succeeded to the title.

He visited Glenstal several times during his later life, and expressed his delight at the way in which the Benedictine monks had maintained the Castle and estate. In order to show his special pride and interest in the school, he presented a very fine trophy, called “The Barrington Literary

Prize”, which is presented annually to the pupil excell ing in Engl ish Literature. One of his saddest visits to Ireland was in 1988, as it coincided with the closing of Barrington’s Hospital, Limerick which his family had founded in 1831.

Sir Fitz was a most charming person, tall, always elegantly dressed. I often visited him and remember vividly the wonderful celebration held in London on the occasion of his 80th birthday. He spent the last years of his life in the Nursing Home in Oxfordshire, well cared for, until his death on 6 January 2003. He is survived by two nieces Mary Rose and Victoria Barrington. May his great soul rest in peace.

Mark Tierney OSB

Wedding Bells John Cronin (1986-1992) and Sinéad Turley Tim Greenwood (19851991) and Vanessa O’Riain Henry Farrell (19821988) and Nicole Erb Greg Ashe (1981-1985) and Orna Dillon Jimbo Blake (1989-1995) and Kimberley Bobridge Conor Murnane (19871993) and Sinéad Dunne Marcus Kelly (1981-1985) and Judith Walsh

UBIQUE 2004 The last edition of UBIQUE appeared in March 2002.

We have been busy since winkling out your darkest secrets. A new edition is due in early 2004. All will be revealed without fear or favour.

Our advice: Come out with your hands up ! Tell us the truth, or we will (probably) publish lies.

Our plea: DO notify us of any mistakes or omissions in the last edition of UBIQUE or any changes which have happened since then.

Our counsel of perfection: PLEASE check your own class group and family members and notify us of any discrepancies.

Even in these days of databases and e-mail, UBIQUE will always be as ( u n )r e l i a bl e a s t h e information (un)supplied.

NO MATTE R HOW FAMOUS YOU ARE : WE MAY NOT HAVE HEARD ABOUT IT !

Write to: UBIQUE (still in Murroe) OR Email: ubique@glenstal.org

Br Michael’s GOLDEN JUBILEE We offer our sincerest congratulations to Br. Michael O’Connor OSB who celebrated his fifty years of m onastic profession on Saturday, May 10th, 2003. We wish him many more years of happiness in the service of God and all-comers.

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P S YCHOANALYSIS —A S TRANGE V OCATION

BY J OHN H ILL (1956-62) There are moments when we feel pressure to do something and only later do we discover that our lifetime secrets are revealed in those acts. Three important events helped me find my future profession as a Jungian analyst.

Towards the end of my life in Glenstal, one afternoon I sat in a classroom and my hand drew a spiral, radiating light. Underneath I wrote: The Christian Communist Democratic Party. I informed my classmates I had found my vocation. I was going to create a new political party, uniting opposites. Of course they thought I was crazy.

Father Matthew Dillon was convinced that there was no place for the likes of me in the world and I had better become a monk. Many years later, I realized I had drawn a Mandala, which C.G. Jung understood to be a symbol of the self, that core part of our personality transcending the individual conscious ego and upon which our health and stability depends.

A second event happened at university. Our professor of a ca dem i c ps ych ol og y described C.G. Jung as an abstruse mystic, who had lost his way in the mumbo jumbo of alchemy and whose Gnostic spirituality posed a greater threat to Catholicism than the atheism of Sigmund Freud.

As a good Catholic I was attending mass after that lecture.

Th er e an inexplicable energy seemed to speak to my soul and I became convinced I would go to Zürich and study Jungian psychology. I learned to become a rebel and listen to my own inner voice. I was born into an

Anglo-Irish family. My father was dead and my mother was convinced I would make a fine officer in a British regiment.

A final event sealed my conviction. I finished my course work for an M.A. in America. I had forgotten about Zürich and did not want to continue my studies in philosophy. I hitchhiked on a cargo ship for its last voyage and became a member of the Royal Merchant Navy of Norway, starting as a cabin boy, cleaning toilets. That was the definitive end to a future in the British army, but the beginning of a career and a new life that required trust in oneself and perseverance in u n d e r s t a n d i n g t h os e obscure messages of the human psyche. After an Odyssey of five months through many lands, I found myself studying at the Jung Institute in Zürich.

Thirty-five years later, I am convinced that had I not followed those strange urges of my soul, I would have adapted to the expectations of others and become neurotic. The p r o f e s s i o n o f psychoanalysis, Freudian or Jungian, is difficult, lonely, but immensely rewarding.

For hours and hours one listens of the stories of one’s client. An analyst attempts to help his or her client to reconstruct those unlived, repressed parts of their personality, guided by the client’s dream, fantasy or emotional experience.

This requires a capacity for intimate sharing without loss of boundaries and distance. The work is a matter of the heart as well a s t h e h ea d; deep relatedness and intellectual

reflection belong to the paradox of an analytical life. Over the years, I have looked over the hedge and learnt from other schools, in particular from the Freudians. I have trained in psycho-drama, a technique that embodies in very real ways conflictual issues of a forgotten past or goals of an intended future.

Speaking three languages, I have had the privilege of working with people from many different cultures.

Bel on gin g to an international organization, I enjoy dialogue with many colleagues, coming from different professions and different nations. I was fated to do this work, but I don’t take that fate for granted. I continually have to measure fate in terms of reality. The challenges of patients and colleagues r equir e maintenance of tolerance and flexibility.

It might have all begun with the drawing of a radiant spiral. My life and work has, I believe, helped others find their own truths so that their lives might blossom in new and unexpected ways.

FROM TOKYO TO MURROE Thomas (Tomoo) Oda (1989-1994) It’s almost midnight. I have just finished watching a documentary about Ampleforth on ITV, thinking to myself “such good old days.”

It is shocking to be reminded that it is already thirteen years since I left Tokyo to

live in Ireland, and nine years since we marched out of the “PAX” arch, with the happiest smiles on our faces, thinking “great, we are free, at last!”

When it was suggested to me to write about my own experiences at Glenstal, I jumped at the chance, thinking it would be so interesting and easy. Yet, reading the brilliant collection of Glenstal comedians and playwrights titled Immortal Diamond * (which made me laugh out loud) is a different matter to writing a piece for it myself, and I shall certainly not pretend that I can do it as well.

There are certainly many snapshots in my head which I can present here (whether the plot was behind the artroom, up the woods, or even inside the church!)

But these are, generally, the things that all Glenstalians have experienced. It is only when a certain amount of time passes that we realise the real value of the experiences we had during the six years of Maigh Rua life.

After the leaving certificate, the class of 1994 scattered throughout the world to pursue their own lives.

Now we are all almost 30 (Since I am the oldest in the class, others may object to this generalisation). A few are “climbing up the ladder.” Some have started their own businesses.

Others are still stuck in the jungle. As for myself, well, I am still trying to remain in the “unreal world” of education, by studying for a Ph.D in Philosophy at the University of Warwick.

It was only when I moved to England in 2000 that I

S UMMER 2003 suddenly realised I was doing something “by myself” for the first time. While I was a parttime worker in Dublin (or was I a part-time student ?), there was always the Glenstal “clan” around, whom I saw at weekends, and who stayed over as un-welcomed intruders. Now I was alone, starting a new life again.

Coming to Glenstal in the beginning was just like that.

From the sound of the firealarm morning call, to church bells, to the smell of cows and the taste of over-cooked cabbage, everything was new to this Asian boy.

I was born and brought up in the middle of Tokyo: Glenstal, the middle-ofnowhere, was a complete change. The advantage of being a foreigner was that, not only the whole school, but the whole village knew me by my second day.They were kind to this wee lad who had come over from some unknown goo-goo land, and who didn’t understand English, let alone Limerick English. Of course, this was a total disadvan-tage whenever there was something to be reported to the school: all they had to say was That yellow chap did it!”

One day, a teacher told me: “I know that there is nothing here, no pubs, no clubs and no girls. But one day you will appreciate the value of a Glenstal education. The experience you get here will make you a proper man.”

What did he mean ? I think I am beginning to feel what he wanted us to take from Glenstal life.

I am currently living in a middle-sized town full of middle-class, middle-aged people in the Midlands, who are appalled at how the school kids behave.

Of course the kids are young and

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energetic, and I envy the choices they have, whether in terms of clothes, food, entertainment or socialising.

But at the same time, I feel sorry for them because they are missing something much more valuable to their life.

I am not sure what it is, and I may never find out. There is no such “thing” as a good education, except through lived experience. Glenstal, like Ampleforth in the documentary, offers something which cannot be exchanged for clothes, food or entertainment. It will always remain within me, alongside many images of “good old days.”

Immortal Diamond, Glenstal Remembered 2002, edited by Mark P atric k Hed erm an.

Obtainable for just €/$/£15 by email: andrew@glenstal.org All revenue goes to Scholarship Fund.

A TURNING–POINT IN MY LIFE

By TIM KEARNEY (1971-75) After leaving school I took a year out and worked as a volunteer with the Race Relations Commission in England, working mainly with West Indian and Asian minorities. I returned to Ireland to study at University College Dublin, when, out of the blue, an important turning-point in my life occurred. Jean Vanier, the founder of L’Arche, was giving one of his retreats in Dublin. My brother Richard and I had travelled from Cork that weekend to attend the Dublin Theatre Festival.

Neither of us was very interested in prayer, community life, the handicapped or retreats.

When another brother, Michael, invited us along to

listen to Jean Vanier’s introductory talk that Sunday night, we agreed only because the theatre festival was not starting until the following night.

For me it was quite an e x t r a o r d i n a r y encounter.Vanier began by quoting the words of Stephen Verney, an Anglican bishop: “We are more earthy and more heavenly than we dare imagine.” What touched me most that night was the way Vanier embodied his radical Gospel vision in his own person. There was a joy, a serenity and an inner freedom that radiated through his whole person, in his face, in his hands. He was not just preaching an inspiring Christian vision: he was living it in his own life. I was touched by the authenticity of his life and by his uncompromising commitment to Jesus and to people with disabilities, with whom he shared his life in community in a personal way.

His words stirred the spirit within me that night, and planted a seed in the soil of my inner self. It was for me a turning-point in my spiritual journey. It came at a time when I carried a good deal of anger, confusion and hurt with regard to God, and the institutional Chuch in particular. Now I could assent to a God who chose to dwell not so much in laws and institutions, but in the beauty and the brokenness of the human heart. I could say yes to a God who chose not to impose himself upon me from outside, but to touch me from within, a vulnerable God who identified with those who

were fragile and weak.

My brother Richard was also deeply touched by Jean Vanier’s words that night, to the extent that we both decided to attend the rest of the retreat, even though it meant missing most of the theatre festival. For two such lovers of theatre and the arts, that was a strong tribute to the inspiration and charisma of the founder of L’Arche.

After six years of graduate and post-graduate study in Anglo-Irish Literature and History, I left Dublin for France where I started to work with Jean Vanier in his L’Arche comm-unity.

There I found, not just a job, but a way of life which has been for me a source of immense joy and fulfillment over the past twenty years.

I am grateful to have been able to share this journey with my lovely wife, Maria, who is French and who I met in L’Arche, and our four children, as also with my younger brother Philip, who is now a priest living in Beauvais, France where he is the pastoral minister for all the L’Arche communities in that country.

I myself founded the L’Arche community in Cork in 1985. Today I am the Regional Co-ordinator for the four L’Arche communities here in Ireland. I also work closely with L’Arche in Africa where I supervise and support our L’Arche community in Kampala, Uganda. This journey in L’Arche is not without its moments of difficulty and its challenges, but it is a good road on which to travel and I am grateful for all the blessings I continue to receive along the way.

FINBARR DOWDALL 1942-1948

It’s hard to believe that Finbarr has gone to his eternal reward. Those of us who knew him will remember him as someone larger than life and that was not just because of his imposing size. Everybody and everything was of special interest to him. Born into a merchant family in the early 1 930s, Finbarr was an only child — indeed a unique child. His mother, Jennie, was Lord Mayor of Cork and I remember Finbarr coming to Glenstal during those bleak war years. He was one of the earliest group of students who came from Cork and he had a pronounced Cork accent which he never lost.

Despite his having been spoilt as an only child of a doting mother, he settled down easily to the rather spartan and frugal regime of boarding school life.

Because of his size he was well able to fight his corner and took a lively and active interest in all sports — which interest remained with him during his adult life. After a degree in College, Finbarr pursued many interests and had the good fortune to meet — and marry — Rosemary.

They were blessed with seven children.

Finbarr was not a man of a few words — his great love, after his wife and family, was good conversation. He could, and would, hold forth on any topic but his favourites were history, politics, religion and the arts in all its forms especially the cinema. It is small wonder, then, that he tried his hand at writing — as a means of extending his audience. He published a

book of poetry entitled ‘Celebrations and Celebrations.’ His fertile imagination soon found an outlet in his one and only novel “So sleeps the pride” which probably occupied him for many a year. It is a sizeable tour de force, rich in social recordings of his native Cork and a pleasant read. To his great joy — and perhaps surprise — it achieved considerable success just prior to his death and is a fitting monument to his wit and imagination.

His generous and gracious hospitality will be missed by those who enjoyed his company in his beautiful family home that was his castle.

Philip Tierney OSB

LET US REMEMBER Thomas (Pat) Hurley (1941-47) Michael Henry (1948-1953) Colette Hogan, wife of Rory and mother of Rolf Brendan Cantwell, father of Peter, Michael, Hugh and Paul.

Marjorie Freeman, mother of David, Denis and Jeremy.

Kavanagh [Walter jr] Verling (1970-1971) Paul Quigley, father of Jim (1965-1971) Mary Leahy, mother of Arnold, David, Eoin and Shane.

CORRECTION: The excellent account of the Class of 1992 Reunion which appeared in the Winter 2002 Newsletter was written by Thomas Legge (1987-1992). Apologies for omitting the credit.

My two years as president of the Glenstal Society come to an end in October. It is time to take stock and look forward.

The Glenstal Society is in a relatively healthy state.

Both years witnessed successful and enjoyable dinners. One hundred trencherpersons sat down in 2002, and twice that number in 2003.

My thanks to all who organised a table.

Thanks, too, to Fred Morris and Peter Crerar, under whose guidance the Golf Society flourishes.

The Glenstal Society must be more than an annual dinner and golf outing. There are useful and valuable things we can do.At the last AGM of the Society, it was decided to establish a capital fund to provide for the following: 1. scholarships for those who need help with school or college fees.

2. t h e benevolent initiatives of the Society, especially in aid of members in need.

3. a worthy display in the school of Sports m em or a bili a, in honour of Fr. Peter.

Let us be practical: I am asking each of you to commit to providing a sum of €100.00 for the next five years to build up funds for these three projects. If you want to give more it will not be refused!

Please complete the enclosed standing order and return it to Fr. Andrew Nugent. Do it

today – tomorrow it may be (i.e. will be) forgotten!

My thanks to those of you who supported me during my term in office. My particular gratitude is reserved for Fr. Andrew.

I hope to see you at the A.G.M. in Glenstal on Sunday 19th October next at 1.00 p.m. when Mass wi l l be c el e br a t ed followed by lunch (2.00 p.m.) and the general meeting at 3.00 p.m.

My best wishes to you all – bye for now.

PATRICK O’CONNOR PRESIDENT

GLENSTAL SOCIETY GOLF OUTING RATHFARNHAM GOLF CLUB FRIDAY JULY 18TH 2003 CONTACT PETER CRERAR, GOLF SECRETARY (H) 01-9826852 (M) 087-2264077 (E) crerarpj@indigo.ie

AGM OF THE GLENSTAL SOCIETY: SUNDAY OCTOBER 19TH 2003 Edited by Andrew Nugent osb Layout by GPA Systems