4 GLENSTAL NEWSLETTER Autumn 2007
JOHN DEVITT: Teacher 1963-1971
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any of us will remember John Devitt as the most ‘bloody marvellous’ teacher we ever had. He died of cancer in June 2007 after a prolonged illness. But he was unbowed to the end. Just a few weeks before he died he rose from his bed to come and speak at the Dublin launch of a book dedicated to him, entitled ‘The Irish Reader: Essays for John Devitt’. As he stood and delivered what he tremulously said would be ‘his last words on the subject of teaching’, everyone in the room was astounded at the bold, vintage enthusiasm he displayed on the threshold of death. One of his former students present, Willy Kelly, related how ‘the things he did and said, though obviously sick to death, were as eloquent & inspiring as those classes in Glenstal we will never forget. It was hard not to weep through it all, but he absolutely defied pity, and so somehow compelled us all to resonate but not to grieve’. Another former Glenstal pupil, Barre Fitzpatrick, reported that John was full of inquiries and encouragements for several of his Glenstal students absent on that occasion. John often recalled how he felt liberated when he first arrived in Glenstal and was told by the headmaster (Celestine): ‘Teach the boys whatever you want ... just don’t bore them’. His first class was on Gray’s ‘Elegy in a Country Churchyard’. His subsequent classes – from 1963 to 1971 – ranged from Shakespeare and Blake to Hardy and Yeats, taking in drama, poetry, fiction and cinema along the way. John would rave like Lear or foam like Othello about the power of movies like ‘On The Waterfront’, ‘Battleship
Let Us Remember Andrew Paterson 1965. John Hederman 1959. Gordon Doyle 1946. Anthony Kennedy 1946. Gerard McCarthy 1969. Edna Kelly, mother of Adrian. Mary Counihan, mother of Michael, Peter & Tim. Joe Keane, father of Joe. Deirdre, wife of Dan Murphy. Robert Tottenham, father of Robin, Fred & George. Michael Ffrench O’Carroll, father of Paul. Mary Gahan, mother of Peter and Edward. Bernie Twomey, mother of James and Dermot. John Devitt, School staff, 1963-71.
Important Dates Friday, Nov. 2nd 2007: London Dinner, Army & Navy Club. Friday, April 4th 2008: 75th Anniversary Dinner, Westbury Hotel. Sunday, April 27th 2008: A.G.M., Glenstal
At a more personal level, I remember John as the first teacher who convinced me I had a right to make the great works of literature or cinema my own, to enter the heart of these texts and imagine what it was like to ‘feel what wretches feel’ or to celebrate the ‘web of fabulous grass and eternal voices by a beech’, or to ‘pray unself-consciously with overflowing speech’. He taught us to read and write long after we had learned to read and write. He taught us how to turn plays like ‘Hamlet’, ‘Galileo Galilli’ or the ‘Playboy’ into magic light and movement on the creaking Glenstal stage. John said that he himself decided to become a teacher because while still at school in Dublin he found himself ‘thrilled, electrified and penetrated by certain poems and plays’. This experience he passed on to his students in Glenstal. John Devitt was mad – about life, love, literature. Anyone who delves into his marvellous essay ‘Unlocking the Word-Hoard’ or his three volume anthology (co-edited with Anne O’Donoghue), ‘Bronze by Gold’, will see what I mean. John is survived by his wife, Irene, daughter Anne and sons Jonathan and Jerome. We will miss him. Richard Kearney (1968-1972)
EDDIE BARBER 1958-1964 dmund (or Eddie as he was regularly known by his school friends) was a man of many par ts. Somewhat nomadic in his early life, living in various British cities and boarding in St. Gerard’s, Bray and Glenstal, he finally came to settle in the environs of London where he commanded a boutique firm of accountants with offices in the City and in the suburbs of Hertfordshire. He was a fellow-traveller with a gang of students who moved seamlessly from St. Gerard’s to Glenstal in the 1950’s and 60’s and upon leaving school in 1964, ventured forth to Balnagowan and UCD to try his hand at medicine. One year later he had left for the U.K. where he had family and eventually settled into the life of accountancy. In latter years, he had rekindled his contacts with the Irish mob with whom he shared his school days, and it was largely in the sporting arena that these contacts were revived. Eddie was bewitched by Cricket and immersed in Rugby, Rowing and Tennis, managing to be the lucky owner of debenture tickets for major venues of the above spor ts. The annual pilgrimage to Hong Kong for the Sevens was usually a saga in itself! Apart from
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Potemkin’ or ‘The Last Tango in Paris’. Many Irish citizens of the time called for this last film by Bertolluci to be censored but to John it was the ingenious tale of a broken heart. John knew all about that having lost his first beautiful wife - whom we knew as ‘Nurse Anne Devitt’ - in childbirth in 1969.
his great interest in sports, he was a consummate diner and belonged to a quirky group named The Thunderers who met monthly in different London (and global) clubs to wine, dine and sometimes whine about life; afterdinner speaking (or ‘interruptions’ to use the Thunderer’s terminology) was one of his many gifts. In this capacity he was the organizer-in-chief of the Glenstal Past-Pupils gathering in The reform Club in November 2006, an event which may yet get legs to become an annual occasion, in which case a glass of “shampoo” as he shamelessly called Champagne, should be raised to celebrate this final bequest to Glenstal Society. Larger-than-life in more ways that one, Eddie collapsed and died suddenly in his office in February of this year. He had celebrated his 60th bir thday a few months previously. His funeral was private. Many will retain fond memories of his joie-de-vivre and his capacity to share in his great love of sport. Eddie McGrath (Br. Timothy). Edited by Andrew Nugent osb Layout & Print by INTYPE Ltd.
My Rock Roots
Letter from the President
By Nick Kelly (‘79)
It was a great honour to be elected last April. Since that time I have come to marvel at all the hard work being done behind the scenes: Secretarial Work, Website, Dinners, Golf, Reunions, Fundraisers. Our flagship project is, of course “Ubique” and my thanks to all who contributed to its production earlier in the year. A special word of appreciation to Fr. Andrew.
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he reason you start doing something, and the reason you continue are not necessarily the same. I started playing the communal Spanish guitar that lolled unloved in the corner of the Housemaster’s office in a doomed attempt to force my classmates to like me. (I’d previously tried to make myself indispensable to them by turning myself into a good tennis player. That hadn’t worked either). As the oldest child of a somewhat Luddite family, popular music was utterly alien to me, as were many vital social skills, when I arrived in the school in 1975. Lights out was a terrifying time for me, and this was no irrational fear. But when they weren’t throwing me or my belongings out of the dorm window onto the battlements, my dorm-mates listened incessantly to rock music on clandestine cassette players, volume finely calibrated to just below the authorities’ auditory range. It soothed the savage beast in them. And, because no stereos were personal in those days, the forgotten cretin in the corner got to listen too. To this day, the opening bars of the Wings album “Band on The Run” (“Stuck inside these four walls”) can catapult me back to the Small Tower. The mid-70s are now looked upon as something of a nadir in popular music. In retrospect those long hours spent nodding sagely along to the earnest noodlings of Yes, Barclay James Harvest, and Bachman Turner Overdrive seem a tragic waste of time and hormones. At the start of fifth year, the more dedicated and spoilt returned to school bearing shining electric guitars. A school band was formed, the criteria for membership being one part rudimentary musical ability, two parts class standing and two parts equipment ownership (Bill Wyman of the Rolling Stones, of course, only got his start because of his collection of amps.) There was no question whatever that I
would make the ranks of this lofty collective, but I was infected by their seriousness of purpose. In the same way as I’d battered a tennis ball up against the gym wall until it splintered to master the backhand, I twisted my fingers around the thick neck of that Spanish guitar until I’d taught myself all the chords (not just the intro) of that bane of music shop owners, “Stairway To Heaven”. On the night of the great concert, the whole school gathered in the gym, monks and teachers to the front. After a competent opening set from our young Greek teacher’s folk trio, the main attractions took the stage. They played, we watched respectfully from our seats. Between us gaped 10 feet of boarded gym floor. Somewhere midway through my peers’ ramshackle set, it struck me that this was all wrong. In a move quite outside my own character, I stood up and rushed to the front of the stage to boogie along. The whole school followed. Perhaps that was the moment I grasped that music, like sex, is a coolfree zone. Some weeks later, a controversial new 7-inch single made its first appearance on the 5th Year common room turntable. The snarling, sneering voice of Johnny Rotten appalled the Claptonloving band members, but not me. This was the final push I needed – proof positive that musical excitement was no more to do with technical ability than with personal popularity. That term I bought myself my first guitar in Savins for £40, a sunburst Concerter acoustic. I have it still. Ten years after I left Glenstal, my then band The Fat Lady Sings were touring Ireland to promote our debut album. We accepted an invitation from a group of 5th Years to play an early show in the school before our scheduled late night gig in Limerick city. My main impressions of that triumphant return were that the teachers in the front row had aged shockingly while the monks seemed completely unchanged, and that this new generation of Glenstal boys had no inhibitions about dancing.
Dear Members,
E-mail is the most cost effective and efficient method of keeping in touch with our 1,700+ Members. So: Get literate, and keep in touch! In order to streamline the activities of the Society I am currently formulating rules/guidelines to improve the running of our affairs. The concept is: a framework which will ensure continuity and will assist in meeting the challenges of the future. I would welcome your input ~ please send me any ideas you may have at president@myubique.com or 086-389 6931. A draft document will be presented for discussion at our AGM in April ‘08. Next year is the 75th Anniversary of the founding of the School. To celebrate the event, the Westbury Hotel has been reserved for Friday 4th April ‘08 for a Gala Dinner. The venue has parking and is ideal for those living outside the Pale being located at the top of Grafton Street. Special group rates are available for those wishing to stay at the Hotel. Spouses and Partners are welcome. Any offers of sponsorship will be greatly appreciated. Kind Regards, NOEL O’GORMAN
TOPIC: LONDON DINNER Friday 2nd November 2007 ANNUAL DINNER this year will be in the ARMY & NAVY CLUB (www.armynavyclub.co.uk) Location: 36 Pall Mall, London Date: Friday November 2ND 2007 Time: 19.30 for 20.00 Dress: Black Tie Price: £80 per person (members only) ORGANISING COMMITTEE: Christopher Dorman-O’Gorman, Ian Lynam, Nigel Hanley, Gearoid Bradley.