FIRST, I’M SURE THAT CONNOISSEURS OF Irish history and the country’s socioeconomic subtleties will find a few places in this book to let fly with contradictions at my gleaned research. The problem with Irish history is the viewpoint. This of course is what led Henry Ford to the blunt conclusion that “history is bunk,” based largely on the fact that historical facts are malleable, selectable, and notoriously unfactual (a quandary obvious in any law court every day). Ford also pointed out that history and the facts to support it were invariably compiled by the victors or survivors of any particular battle or other shifts in the status quo, not to mention the personal spins of the historians’ political/social biases and regular revisions in the context of longer term hindsights and perspectives and shifts in power, control, and politics.
So—generally speaking I’ve taken what one might call the “cautious” path with Irish and even local Beara history. I’ve tried to avoid putting my own overly neophyte spin on things (despite arduous research that inevitably made it even more difficult for me to arrive at any hard and fast conclusions). I thus left it largely to the locals—some very opinionated locals usually—to give me their erudite and effervescent summations. And in terms of their and everyone else’s words in this book, I have relied primarily upon transcripts from my beloved little microtapes, used whenever I chatted with potential contributors. In most instances they were fully aware of the taping, and I respected their wishes for anonymity whenever (rarely) requested, by modifying names a little or merely paraphrasing their inputs.
Also, to all those who shared their views on and love for Ireland and the Beara Peninsula—thank you all for your invaluable assistance. This book would not have been possible without you. And you know who you are…
Finally, “a thousand thanks” to Bridget Allen, my loyal partner in manuscript production; to Hugh Van Dusen, my longtime (and long-patient) colleague and editor, whose advice and support are always vital; and to my wife—Anne—traveling companion, gentle critic, spirit nurturer, and best friend without whom all my ventures and wanderings would be hollow shards indeed.