“I’m only twelve,” said Ralph, “and I’m useless at lying. I’m no good at it.” (p127) “He’d have stuck with his namesake and Piggy. At least he hoped he would. He wasn’t very brave. But he’d have tried.” (270) Carlo Gébler’s The Innocent of Falkland Road is a coming of age tale set in […]
Well, the Beast from the East came, met Emma, and dumped snow all over the country. Call it Snowmageddon, or Sneachtageddon if you prefer. Either way, the country is looking extremely wintry even though Spring is just around the corner. Which of course brings James Joyce’s ‘The Dead’ […]
“A house, a labyrinth of rubbish, a crazy old man and a message in a bottle: all the ingredients of a twisted crime story.” “The loveliest eyes are found in the heads of women who have suffered … Damage lies at their shining core. As I said, Drennan, you have beautiful eyes.” “Memories are […]
And just like that … the Begorrathon is over for another year Thank you to all the bloggers who took part. Cathy and I had a grand old time reading all the wonderful posts. With over 100 posts on everything from James Joyce to Glenn Patterson, Elizabeth Bowen to Molly Keane, and Ireland’s patron saint, […]
So here we, round the bend and the final leg, the finish line in sight. With only a few days left in March, it’s time to get those Reading Ireland posts in. Some housekeeping announcements: The Hennessy Literary Awards take place tomorrow evening in Dublin. Congratulations and best of luck to all the shortlisted writers, […]
For me, though, I will always be drawn to the National Gallery to see The Holy Well, Orpen’s scathing repudiation of a romanticised view of western Ireland and Celticism as ‘pure’ and ‘authentic’ (a notion that was very en vogue at the time; see William Butler Yeats).
We’re coming into St. Patrick’s Week, so things are probably going to get a bit shamrocky here at Reading Ireland Month. In the meantime, here are a few highlights from Week Two: Check out all the Begorrathon posts here.
Henry Jones Thaddeus (1859 – 1929) was an Irish realist painter who studied at the School of Art in Cork, a place he later described as:
A ramshackle, tumble-down building, with a pathetic notice at the head of its staircase imploring students not to jump or run down in a body, as the steps would give way; such was the Cork School of Art, when as a boy of ten, in the year of grace 1870, I crossed its well-worn threshold and was initiated into the mysteries of elementary art.
Thaddeus studied further in Paris and later travelled throughout Europe and North Africa, mixing with fellow artists and member of the aristocracy.
He was elected to the Royal Hibernian Academy in 1901