Guest post by author, Cynthia Neale
The
past is not dead and buried; it is not even past ~ William Faulkner
In 1997, while dancing at an Irish pub, I glanced at the well-known
poster, Irish Dresser. It is a
photograph of a nineteenth-century Irish dresser with a red hen pecking on the
floor before it. An Irish dresser is comparable to a china cabinet. As I
danced, I imagined a young girl suffering from hunger and tragedy, but dreaming
of a better life each time she climbs inside this place of refuge, her hiding
place, and place of hope. Norah McCabe eventually travels across the sea from
Ireland to America hidden away in this dresser. After my young adult novel, The Irish Dresser, A Story of Hope during
The Great Hunger (An Gorta Mor, 1845-1850) was published, I thought I was
finished telling Norah’s story. But I couldn’t leave her on the shores of
America and also learned through genealogical research that there was a real
Norah McCabe who had come from Ireland to NYC in 1847! And then I read that
there was a real ship called The Star
that carried passengers from Ireland to America during the Irish Famine. I had
given this same name to the ship Norah McCabe travels on to America. On the
real ship, there’s a family traveling on it with my last name, Neale. They had a thirteen year old girl
traveling with them. Could this have been my Norah who had come to me so vividly
while I danced?
The Great Hunger (Irish Famine) was a
catastrophic event that left deep scars that altered Ireland and the Irish
psyche. This was the worst disaster of the 19th-Century. There have
been horrid “ethnic cleansing” periods in world history and this event has been
debated as being the same. It was believed amongst some government officials at
the time that Providence had provided the British a means, through the potato
fungus and famine, to rid them of their nasty Irish problem. As a writer, this
period in Irish history grabbed me by the heart and wouldn’t let go.
The only knowledge I had about the Irish Famine came from my
high school history text book, “Over a million people perished in Ireland from
the loss of the potato crop.” After I wrote a short play in 1997 about The Great
Hunger and while researching and writing my first novel, people asked, “Why did
the Irish only eat potatoes?” OMG! Americans and even Irish-Americans did not
know this history. Honestly, I hadn’t known much, either. John Walters writes,
“Surveys, I’m told, indicate that the Irish people do not want to hear about
the Famine. But it is also precisely why the subject must be talked about until
we remember the things we never knew.” As a writer, I knew this was a subject
that would become the vehicle for a story. There was no number tattooed on the
Irish skin, but the marking of cultural shame was evident. Tom Hayden writes in
Irish Hunger, “There are unmarked
famine graves in all of us.”
I am convinced that I’ve written about a real person who lived
during this period. Next, I wrote Hope in
New York City, The Continuing Story of The Irish Dresser that continues
Norah’s story of survival in her new country, a country that despised the Irish
immigrant. And then once again I assumed her story was over, but I felt the
stirrings of a young woman’s dreams and struggles. And the more I read about
New York City and America during the years prior to the Civil War and post
massive immigration, the more intrigued I became. It was a heyday for Abolitionism,
the Nativist Movement, and the Women’s Rights Movement. There were uprisings,
bank runs and crashes, riots, violence, and xenophobia. Many movies and books
portray the Irish woman as an ignorant Brigit who spoils the soup and talks
back to her betters. Certainly there were a few of these types, but in my
research I learned that Irish women far exceeded other female ethnic groups in
education and economics. They climbed up in the world come hell or high water!
They paraded down Fifth Avenue dressed in Paris fineries bought from the money
they saved (still sending money back to Ireland), and aristocratic Protestant
ladies were incensed that these Irish maids looked just like them.
I imagined the young girl, Norah, becoming a vibrant and determined
young woman who desperately wanted to climb out of her Irish skin as much as
she wanted to stay inside it. She desires to be free from the limitations of
her race and dreams of success, but still longs to return to Ireland. The two
children’s books about Norah McCabe convinced me she still had a story to tell
and so I trusted her to continue to tell me her story in Norah: The Making of an Irish-American Woman in the 19th-Century.
And so she did!
Norah McCabe defies the roles and limitations of her race and
gender, throwing off the washer woman domestic’s apron and strives to become
someone as worthy as any Yankee Protestant woman. She stumbles and falls into
her real self in an evocative, adventurous, romantic, violent city. She also
attends the Seventh Annual Women’s Rights Convention, but is unable to cross
the chasm between herself as an Irish immigrant woman and Protestant feminist
ideology. Norah is the story of a woman who confronts prejudice, violence, and
greed in a city that mystifies and helps mold her into becoming an
Irish-American woman. This is a story for any immigrant in any time and for
anyone who has impossible dreams.
While writing Norah,
my first adult historical novel, I was surprised how much Norah McCabe taught
me about letting go. In the two previous young adult books about her, I had to mother her. There was a certain restraint I experienced
in my writing that kept Norah innocent in spite of the mind boggling tragedy of
living in famine conditions and coming to a new country and experiencing
further hunger and deprivation. In the adult novel, Norah, my writing experience often felt as if I was flying down a
steep path on a bike. I had to take my feet off the pedals, fling my legs out
to the sides, and steer. It was frightening, but it was also quite thrilling. I
also doubted at times whether I could thrust this child into the world to
become an adult. And as much as Norah has me in her, she is her own woman. I
was challenged to let her be Norah McCabe and not Cynthia Neale, somewhat akin
to letting my own daughter, who has me in her, be entirely herself. There is a
letting go of the story to allow it to meander where it needs to go, even if
you have created big dreams for the characters and emphatically prepared for the
story. I felt as if I became the time travel machine by which Norah journeyed
on from the past to the page. I wondered a few times if the machine was going
to crash or run out of fuel, but by the time it landed, I was ready. I gained a
certain confidence I hadn’t had before, as well as humility. I love this quote
by William Trevor, I believe in not quite
knowing. A writer needs to be doubtful, questioning. I write out of curiosity
and bewilderment… I’ve learned a lot I could not have learned if I were not a
writer. Alas, I wonder if Norah McCabe will ever leave my life, as I am now
writing another novel about her life in New York City that takes place during
the Civil War. My working title is, The
Irish Milliner.
About the book
Norah: The Making of an Irish-American Woman in 19th-Century New York by Cynthia Neale
Once she was a child of hunger, but now Norah McCabe is a woman with courage, passion, and reckless dreams. Her story is one of survival, intrigue, and love. This Irish immigrant woman cannot be narrowly defined! She dons Paris fashion and opens a used-clothing store, is attacked by a vicious police commissioner, joins a movement to free Ireland, and attends a National Women's Rights Convention. And love comes to her slowly one night on a dark street, ensnared by the great Mr. Murray, essayist and gang leader extraordinaire. Norah is the story of a woman who confronts prejudice, violence, and greed in a city that mystifies and helps to mold her into becoming an Irish-American woman.
Author Bio of Cynthia Neale:
Cynthia Neale is an American with Irish ancestry and a native of the Finger Lakes region in New York. She now resides in Hampstead, New Hampshire. She has long possessed a deep interest in the tragedies and triumphs of the Irish during the Potato Famine or “The Great Hunger.” She is a graduate of Vermont College in Montpelier, VT, with a B.A. degree in Literature and Creative Writing. Norah is her first historical novel for adult readers. She is also the author of two young adult novels, The Irish Dresser, A Story of Hope during The Great Hunger (An Gorta Mor, 1845-1850) and Hope in New York City, The Continuing Story of The Irish Dresser. Her forthcoming book, Pavlova in a Hat Box, is a collection of essays and dessert recipes. She is currently researching and writing a sequel to Norah, as well as a novel about Queen Catharine, a Native American of New York whose village was destroyed by General John Sullivan in 1779.
Great essay on this book. As someone who is very interested in history I know woefully too little about The Great Hunger.
ReplyDeleteVery interesting thoughts on the development of the character and how she seems to have taken on a life of her own!
I sympathize, Cynthia, with the feeling of having to let your character go and not mother her. It's painful as a writer to let our heroines live as they would have in the period, as they seem to insist upon going, even when we see the pitfalls they are about to fall into. Engaging post.
ReplyDeleteThere is a mystery to this process of being taken down a different road with your protagonist than you intended. Sometimes I feel like I'm doing automatic writing, but certainly it isn't that easy. It can be ghostly, to be sure. Thanks for reading.
DeleteA very comprehensive review Lindsay. I was interested to see you have taken part in a blog tour I always decline. :)
ReplyDeleteGreat insight Lins, I sometimes like reading books like and learn some history.
ReplyDeleteLainy http://www.alwaysreading.net
One of the things I enjoy with the love of reading, is that we can also learn. :)
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