When it comes to a concrete example of the close links between France and Ireland, the Centre Culturel Irlandais (formerly the Collège des Irlandais), situated on the Rue des Irlandais, is as good as one will find.
I visited that institution on a recent visit to Paris and was delighted to learn that there was an exhibition on in the library at the time entitled Amitiés littéraires: florilège de la Bibliothèque littéraire Jacques Doucet.
Because of my particular interest in the Franco-Irish nexus, this immediately caught my attention. I was shown around by the enthusiastic Carole Jacquet, the person in charge of the library’s Development and Heritage section.
The exhibition brings together a selection of photos, books and letters, all of them highlighting exchanges between Irish and French writers or artists in Paris.
Ireland’s deep cultural connections with the French capital and France itself
Laughing for Ireland? Frank McNally on Bobby Sands and Kneecap
Faithful departure: Frank McNally on a belated first visit to Knock Airport, 40 years on
Joseph O’Connor on celebrating a Kerry priest who became a war-time hero
It also boasts an attractive copy of Les gens de Dublin (the French translation of Dubliners), along with a beautiful hardback copy of a French edition/translation of Ulysses, duly dedicated by Joyce to Adrienne Monnier, a devoted collaborator of Sylvia Beach at the Shakespeare and Company Bookstore, whose main claim to fame is the publication of Joyce’s masterpiece in 1922.
We will return to Joyce in due course.
The historical Irish connection to Notre Dame cathedral is strong
The exhibition has a few letters from Oscar Wilde to André Gide, thanking him for sending a copy of a book and asking Gide for a loan of 200 francs. Not long out of prison, Wilde was having difficulty re-establishing himself in literary circles and found the cost of living in Paris very high. It seems as though Gide, a prolific French author and winner of the 1947 Nobel Prize for Literature, did not accede to the request on this occasion.
Also included are cards exchanged between Beckett and the Romanian philosopher, Emil Cioran. The two often ran into each other while out walking in Paris, or at literary and intellectual gatherings in the French capital. From different parts of the European Continent, both adopted French as their new language, and availed of all the possibilities that life in Paris offered to exiles like them.
I found the epistolary exchanges between the Irish painter Francis Bacon and the renowned intellectual Michel Leiris particularly stimulating. Bacon spent a good deal of time in Paris, and the fact that his work was appreciated by Leiris and exhibited at the prestigious Grand Palais among other venues, shows the high esteem he enjoyed in France – indeed, one of the highlights of the exhibition is a copy of a portrait Bacon did of Leiris, which, despite the slightly distorted face, is instantly recognisable as that of his French friend.
Glancing through the various display cases reinforces the strong ties between France and Ireland. The great exemplar of the close Franco-Irish friendship is undoubtedly Joyce, who first made his way to Paris with the intention of studying medicine in 1901, returning in 1902, only to be summoned home to be at the bedside of his dying mother. Finally, accompanied by Nora Barnacle and their two teenage children, he found himself back on French soil after the Great War, in 1920.
As his biographer Ellman says of this trip: “He (Joyce) came to Paris for a week and remained for twenty years”.
Joyce did not immediately warm to his new environment, hampered as he was by a severe lack of money – symptomatic of his impoverished state throughout most of his career. But he slowly came to appreciate that the French capital was a melting pot for several innovative and exciting new ideas when it came to literature, art and philosophy.
Furthermore, his books got a reception and an immediate audience there like nowhere else. Indeed it is fair to say that his genius was recognised in France long before it would be acknowledged to anything like the same extent in his native country.
A trip to Paris would not be complete without a visit to Notre Dame. The historical Irish connection to this beautiful cathedral is strong, as borne out by the funeral oration given there by the legendary Dominican preacher Henri-Dominique Lacordaire in honour of Daniel O’Connell some months after the Liberator’s death in 1847. Matching O’Connell’s oratorial ability, any time Lacordaire took to the pulpit aroused huge interest, as people flocked in their droves to hear his stirring words.
In addition, the proximity of the aforementioned Collège des Irlandais, where numerous Irish seminarians were trained for the priesthood during the Penal Laws, is another reason why Notre Dame will always have a special place in the hearts of many Irish people. The restoration of the magnificent gothic structure after the devastating fire of April 2019 is nothing short of a logistical miracle, and bears witness to the reverence in which French people hold it.
Going through the doors of the iconic cathedral evoked memories of Victor Hugo’s classic account of the fictional hunchback who lived hidden away from the public eye in the dark recesses of the building.
So, a visit to Paris can be restorative and energising, as it brings to mind so much shared history. In the wake of Brexit, the French cleverly coined the phrase: “France, Ireland’s nearest neighbour in Europe”, and to me, it is an apposite description of the warm relationship that exists between the two countries. Long may that special friendship continue.
