The Princess is making her first confession at the end of March. She is terrified. I gave her Frank O’Connor’s First Confession* to read. She was amused and relieved. She is unlikely to go for any relatives with a bread knife. That’s alright then.
*This should really be read in a Cork accent but you will have to make do. Aside – sometimes I feel that this blog is one long aside – the woman who prepares our young hero for confession in Frank O’Connor’s short story is from Montenotte, a very smart part of Cork. A friend from there told me he was once speaking to someone who asked why Montenotte was so called. “I think it was one of Napoleon’s battles,” said my friend. “Jeez,” said the other guy, “I never knew Napoleon came to Cork.” If you know anything about Cork, you would realise that this misapprehension stems from the firm belief that Cork is the centre of the world.
The bit about the Montenotte woman’s fondness for tales of hell reminds me of my younger brother, when he was a little fella, confidently telling his teacher, “Oh, my granny knows all about the devil!”
Ooops! wrong side of the table on this one on several counts, being a lapsed Presbyterian. (Evidently predestined to lapse, if I understand the doctrine correctly.)
It sounds like the title of a F O’C short story: When Napoleon Came to Cork …
Eimear, obviously repeated to your parents with great glee..
WOL, yes, I think so, doomed to failure from the outset – it doesn’t sound like a very American religion does it, do you come from Canadian/Scottish stock?
QoP, yes perhaps you could work on something along those lines. Would need to be proofed for Corkness of course.