Abstract
In Belfast, good fences can make for bad neighbors. David Cunningham (Wash U. sociologist, author of There’s Something Happening Here and Klansville, U.S.A) joins John to speak about the Troubles and their aftermath with the brilliant Northern Irish novelist/essayist/memoirist Glenn Patterson. His fiction includes The International (1999) and Where Are We Now? but the conversation’s main focus is his two collections of short non-fiction, Lapsed Protestant (2006) and Here’s Me Here (2016).
Glenn has lifetime of insights about the boundary markers and easy to miss shibboleths that define life in divided places–and in divided times. In Belfast, everyone learns to use words without being marked out: how do you avoid uttering “the one word that gets you killed”?
But Troubles that go cold also have a way of heating up again, if we forget, as Glenn puts it, that you can choose who you are. China Mieville’s brilliant novel The City and the City is, says Glenn, an allegory for places like Belfast itself, where you have to learn to “unsee” residents of “the other city” even in shared areas. That kind of unseeing, in fiction and in real life, leads to distorted mental maps.
Glenn sees the so-called “softening” of the peace walls as among the most pernicious occurrences of the last 40 years, since softening coupled with notion that you simply belong to one of two “communities” is what makes real traffic, real conversation, harder to achieve. He and David agree that all over the world, in ways the echo Belfast although it is rarely spelled out, all sorts of invisible architectural extensions of the security and segregation apparatus hover unobtrusively. Glenn also riffs on the names people dream up for what might lie beyond a Belfast wall’s other side, spinning off writer Colin Carberry‘s proposal: Narnia.