Listowel Writers Week 2012

Ten years ago this week I attended this event for the first time, just as John B.Keane, one of the founders of Listowel Writers Week,was breathing his last. He passed away that evening and my introduction to Writers Week was like taking part in an extended wake, as scenes from his plays were performed by drama groups in pubs all over town.Next day President McAleese came to his funeral and all Festival activity stopped for two hours as a mark of respect.

Ten years on, John B. is still very much present at Writers Week. There are portraits or photographs of him in almost every shop window, and people often touch the sleeve of his statue in Church Street for luck as they pass by.The spirit of friendly welcome that he kindled in 1970 shows itself in the kindness of people in Listowel itself, where cars stop to let wandering strangers cross the road, where landladies leave a starter  pack of food that would do you for a week, a vase of flowers on the kitchen table and a big bag of ice in the freezer. The spirit of the Festival now is hard to pin down, an eclectic mix of readers and the writers they have come to hear, a microcosm of world and national literature. For me though it's the kindness of a community that believes in itself and that takes a pride in what it's doing that makes it .

A walk around Listowel confirms that the town is struggling to keep going- empty small shops,and an unfinished shopping mall with only a Gala store and the Revenue as tenants. Yet there is no sense of inflated prices or businesses on the make; sponsorship and support from the local business community and the families of the founding fathers is evident not only in the literary prizes but also in the elegant floral arrangements which grace every venue, and in the voluntary work which has gone on all year to make sure that visitors get their tickets and are safely seated at events. John B. Keane and his friends started something here in Listowel which has developed into a national event and which has managed to retain its distinctive characteristic of welcome and kindness to strangers.

What kind of old?

So much for the publicity given to 'Say No to Ageism' week,which has apparently been running for the last nine years.This is the first time, thanks to Facebook, that I have ever come across this event . If it is really the case that the age of the population is increasing then the political clout of this demographic group will also increase and perhaps life choices and the resources to make them will become more available to older people who for the most part become and remain invisible, it seems. The Bealtaine festival is a case in point - the images of older people swinging axes to wreck images of words like 'inequality' on the Bealtaine web site seemed pointless to me. 'What kind of old do you want to be?' was the question as title of a recent conference in Dublin. Resourced, respected, liked , appreciated, active in public life and in my own community, independent, whole in mind and body- wearing purple or anything else I want to - as little different from my current life as possible,thanks! 

Musings

So how are you today, on what seems to be Freefall Friday on the stock markets worldwide? As I completed my solitary walk on the new walkways in Killaloe this morning there was no sign of the five ducklings I have grown fond of this week,nor of the heron, elegant in his indifference as he stands on the edge of the boardwalk, always poised for take off.