As a third-generation Irish American, I have always felt a deep connection to my heritage, but I must admit that I have been both intrigued and somewhat bewildered by the recent surge of interest in all things Irish. Growing up, my grandmother would regale me with tales of the old country, stories of hardship and resilience that were as much a part of her identity as the shamrock she wore on St. Patrick’s Day.


Was it around December 2018 when Ireland started gaining popularity, or was it a few months later with Sally Rooney’s “Normal People” hitting U.S. shores and garnering positive reviews? Either way, by the time “The Banshees of Inisherin” came out in 2022, an Irish cultural wave had taken off. Nicknamed the Craic Pack, authors like Anna Burns and Paul Lynch won significant awards, actors such as Colin Farrell and Cillian Murphy, along with singer-Hozier, regained prominence. Barry Keoghan transitioned from art-film enigma to mainstream heartthrob, and even brands like Kerrygold butter became a must-mention for Instagram bakers.

In much the same way as Taylor Lautner in the second Twilight film hid his chiseled abs from viewers, Ireland has been surprising many with its well-toned cultural landscape. Writer Róisín Lanigan, in an essay for Vice, discusses this phenomenon. She first noticed this shift when Normal People, a show that catapulted Paul Mescal to stardom, debuted on television. “Americans and English people were introduced to a new Ireland: one bathed in rose-tinted beauty,” she says. Lanigan hails from Northern Ireland and warns that this new image often portrays a specific type of Irish individual. On the whole, it appears to be, ‘They’re attractive and melancholic.’

Regardless of truth, many Americans found it appealing. The fad for “hot rodent boyfriends” this past summer highlighted several Irish actors. An Instagram account dedicated solely to sharing pictures of Mescal boasts over 160,000 followers. A YouTube interview featuring comedian Brittany Broski joking about her dream career goal as “Irish cock” garnered an impressive 2.7 million views.

Among young, online, left-leaning Americans, the Irish are often viewed as “the admirable Europeans.” Unlike the opinions of favored French actors, Irish celebrities are generally assumed to hold respectable political views without question. A country that was once economically and politically behind its peers now seems strikingly progressive: A former coworker once praised the Irish as the only white people he knew who were anti-colonialists.

As a film enthusiast, I’ve always admired Ireland’s rich cultural tapestry, but it seems the brilliance of its artists often didn’t resonate back on the island itself. Reading James Joyce’s “Dubliners,” for instance, seldom left me yearning to be a Dubliner.

Despite the recent trend, O’Reilly finds it amusing that being Irish is now considered “cool.” As he explains, Irish people are cool in a unique way, unlike typical definitions of coolness. He attributes this to the interpersonal aspects of Irish culture, which revolve around humor and friendliness, reminiscent of a small-village mentality. This cultural norm discourages self-promotion. O’Reilly uses his father as an example, whose Fermanagh farmer ancestors embodied this humble demeanor.

Inquire about the surge of fascination with Ireland from individuals involved in its cultural sphere, and they will probably attribute this trend to a rise in arts financing, filming tax incentives, and the historical migration pattern that provides Irish artists with a global perspective. The past is also instrumental in shaping Ireland’s modern progressive reputation. For many years, the Catholic Church wielded significant influence over Ireland’s political institutions, but once those constraints were lifted, the nation seemingly outpaced the post-war era in the last 30 years. Decriminalization of same-sex relationships occurred in 1993, followed by the legalization of divorce in 1996, then same-sex marriage in 2015 and abortion in 2018. As the U.S. and U.K. have seemingly regressed in recent years, Ireland has been advancing with determination.

It appears that a growing number of young progressives have been adopting Ireland’s stance against the monarchy, as evidenced by their reactions following Queen Elizabeth II’s death in 2022. On social media platforms like Twitter and TikTok, Irish expressions of disdain for the royals gained significant traction, with videos like those of Irish soccer fans mocking “Lizzy” or Irish step-dancers performing “Another One Bites the Dust” outside Buckingham Palace garnering massive views. Some of my friends, who previously held pro-Royalist views, suddenly became vocal anti-Royalists during that time. This shift made me wonder if these progressive individuals were borrowing the political credibility associated with Irish anti-monarchism, given their historical reasons for disliking the royals. However, when I brought this up with Lanigan, she argued that one doesn’t have to be of Irish descent to be anti-Royalist; they merely need to be rational or sensible in their views.

The straightforward wisdom and anti-imperialist stance that characterizes Irish culture greatly contributes to its current allure. Sharon Horgan, who went back home to produce Bad Sisters following years in British television, shared this perspective with The Independent in 2021: “We’re self-assured yet humbled by history. In many aspects, Ireland embodies the quintessential underdog. We excel at telling it like it is.

To those Americans who support the Palestinian cause, the actions of the Irish, standing up against powerful entities, have become even more admirable since the start of Israel’s conflict in Gaza. In line with the longstanding solidarity between the Irish republicans and the Palestinian people, many Irish celebrities have been vocal opponents of the war. Rooney, at the launch of her book “Intermezzo”, used her platform to denounce the ongoing violence as genocide. Mescal donated a signed poster of “Aftersun” to an auction for Gaza’s cinema. Nicola Coughlan, whose father was a U.N. peacekeeper in Jerusalem, has been advocating for a ceasefire and an arms embargo during her “Bridgerton” press tour. Irish meme accounts frequently repost images of Farrell wearing a keffiyeh. The competitive nature of TopMob (a term possibly referring to social media or online communities) even extends to pro-Palestinian activism, with reports suggesting that Rooney has encouraged other Irish celebrities to be more outspoken on the issue of Gaza.

For Northern Irish Catholics, who carry a unique cultural recollection of armored vehicles, tanks, and firearms, the comparisons become even more vivid. During the Reading Festival this past summer, the Irish-speaking hip-hop group Kneecap drew a connection between the violence of The Troubles and the suffering inflicted upon the people of Gaza. Hailing from Belfast, two-thirds of the band characterize their city as “still under British rule.” However, Móglaí Bap, a member of the group, addressed the crowd stating, “While we are struggling for freedom here, there is an even more oppressive situation happening in Palestine. They’re bombing Palestinians from above.

Approximately two decades following the Good Friday Agreement, the self-titled biopic of Kneecap became popular in the U.K. and Ireland, even being chosen as Ireland’s submission for the Oscars. This film includes a brief appearance by Gerry Adams, a former Sinn Féin leader who was once barred from television but is now humorously involved in a joke about drug-induced hallucinations. The cultural evolution of Northern Ireland since that time mirrors this shift, with Derry Girls being one project that has contributed to the North catching up to the Republic’s international image. As Lanigan remarks, “We were previously a culturally awkward subject, but it’s less so now.” Interestingly, movies and TV shows set in Northern Ireland no longer require an introductory montage of sectarian strife, as demonstrated by the film Kneecap which satirizes this trope. However, some criticism is directed towards Kneecap for playing with imagery of a conflict they didn’t personally experience. Mo Chara from the group responds to this critique by stating, “What else are we going to do – remain traumatized and miserable?

It’s important to remember that the contemporary Irish fantasy is just as selective in its depiction as the traditional one was. Just as modern Ireland isn’t a charming, secluded haven, it also doesn’t embody the socialist utopia some might imagine. Despite the Good Friday Agreement, Northern Ireland’s devolved government has often struggled to operate effectively. The Republic of Ireland is governed by parties that are almost indistinguishable in their centrist views, primarily Fine Gael and Fianna Fáil. (Though if you’re looking for a nation-state that offers generous tax breaks to American tech companies, I might have just the place for you.)

Ireland, much like the U.S. and Britain, has faced similar challenges. It grapples with housing issues and a rising far-right movement that organized anti-immigration protests over the summer. Lanigan views the modern portrayal of Irishness as a form of paddywhackery, an updated version of the old tradition of emphasizing Irish cuteness to make other aspects of their identity more acceptable. Critics often voice similar concerns about the work of Martin McDonagh, who was born and raised in London. Similar to many Irish before her, Lanigan left Ireland for better prospects in England. “The Irish diaspora flourishes when late capitalism makes it seem impossible to live at home,” she says. “However, the influx of immigrants into Ireland today hasn’t been fully acknowledged or understood by the culture. There is a lot of racism surrounding questions like ‘What does it mean to be Irish? Can you be Irish if you’re not white?’

O’Reilly is hesitant to assume that Ireland’s history of subjugation makes it immune to the rising xenophobia in Europe, questioning whether such an assumption reflects a sense of arrogance. However, he finds some comfort in instances where the Irish challenge nativist myths. Following our conversation, he shares with me a video of a woman in Dublin firmly rebuffing a right-wing YouTuber who was trying to provoke her about migrants. Prior to the potato famine, she points out, Ireland had a population of 8 million – significantly larger than it does now, suggesting there is certainly room for more.

Whenever an identity gains popularity, there’s often a feeling of disorientation or confinement. For instance, when Lanigan began writing fiction many years ago, a publisher told him, “We have enough Irish stories at the moment.” However, this seems to have shifted over the past couple of years. Now you see articles proclaiming “The Year of the Irish,” and it feels like a different kind of constraint. Today, Irishness is trendy. But what about tomorrow? “Perhaps it’s just fashionable,” O’Reilly says. “In three years, everyone might be focusing on whatever Venezuela’s dominant cultural norms are.

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2024-11-18 16:54