This is a little anecdote from schooldays.It took place in my last year in Ireland before we came here. The incident happened but I've put it here because of the bit at the end,which is opinion,not fact.
Princess Margaret and the Nun.
“Sticks and stones will break my bones but words can’t hurt me”
We often used to hear this silly rhyme in the play ground but it wasn’t one of our favourites. You never heard it on our lips. We knew it was a lie. We collectively, were the pioneers’ class at the Regina Ceoli Catholic Primary School. And we knew that words were dangerous things, causing fear and pain and as most words were in books we didn’t like them either. Consequently the reading lessons were milestones of terror in the week. Having Sister Dympna take us for them had a lot to do with it. She wasn’t our class teacher. That was sister Attracta, a tiny ancient nun. She looked like a Cindy doll that had been left too close to the fire, all collapsed and shrunken. She was fluent in Gaelic and Latin; sadly we were all mono-lingual in English. Having long division explained to us in a mixture of peasant Gaelic and pigeon English with occasional references to the blessed martyrs thrown in for no apparent reason made learning difficult. We, therefore, accepted with Catholic stoicism that it would be Sister Dympna taking us for reading. She was Anne Robinson in a wimple with a voice that had the physical power to stop you dead in your tracks. The personification of terror and I was on her hit list. I had been out of favour with her since last term. She had given us an essay to write called “The bravest woman I know” I must have missed the encoded message that came with the title. So 29 kids all wrote about their mothers and I wrote about Princess Margaret. I was only vaguely aware who she was but she was in all the papers at the time and one of them had described her as “very brave and dignified” that was good enough for me. I copied it down. On the day I read it out in perfect innocence, ignorant of the subject matter. As long as I had something to read out to Sister Dympna I was all right.
“Fancy favouring that strumpet over your sainted mother ” she roared at me. Completely ignoring the fact I had done nothing of the sort. Despite the fact that this happened last term I was still among the damned; one of the group of suspect children, which meant she remembered me. It made the reading lessons even more harrowing.
“Sit up straight. One had on the book and one on the desk” She bellowed, her eyes raking the room. The windows rattled in the aftershock and the class hamster dived for cover. There followed that itchy silence produced by 30 kids, trying hard to be invisible. I was the third to be chosen. As I went up to the desk I could see that she had shaved that day that always made her irritable. I took one last look out the window. She grabbed my book and selected a page and told me to read. I quickly scanned the page; at least 4 stinkers there of the 3 syllable variety. Under stress some body organs start to shut down, my trachea was one. I croaked out the words. I could see the first big one coming up.
“Wrong” she barked, “try again”. Followed by a sharp crack. I think she believed that pain concentrated the mind and enough of it on its own would produce the right answer. I just hoped I guessed it right before she chopped my fingers off with her special ruler, blessed by the Pope himself, with each inch marked by one of the Apostles. We were luckier than the boys, though, who got whacked about the head with it . This crazy catch 22 situation was played out in many Catholic schools; demand the highest possible goals and yet give no guidance or support on attaining them. You couldn’t win so you eventually gave up, defeated. Heaven was an impossible goal, like reading words you didn’t know. Heaven was losing it’s appeal, anyway it was full of people like Sister Dympna. Back at my desk, shaking and nursing my bruised fingers I had this vision of her in Heaven, sitting at her desk cracking God over the knuckles until he got creation just right.
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Knuckle Dusting Nun
Written by alastair79 (47 comments posted) 24th May 2006 |
Brides of Christ, when will they ever learn?
Liked this a lot, very easy to read and flowed nicely to the end, with a good pay off.
Regards.
Alastair. |
My
Written by gerardconnolly (1186 comments posted) 24th May 2006 |
Mrs B! A storyteller!
Short and sweet. And truely sweet. I liked this one as I am sure you can guess why.
For what it is worth I am not a reliable voice in favour of any soi disant ignorant form of anti-religious hue and cry anyone wants to invent. They, having read too much and understood far less, hopefully will have gone back to reading student comics about Zukan the Zuke and his Plot against the World. But no matter. In Irish society the realism of brutality has proved a smooth and acceptable dove in nonetheless
Thankfully less so now.
And on the writing I found you near faultless save for an odd font and far too short a concentration on what should have been a more expansive word about your characters. Much more here. Loved it. As far as it went.
But for now well done! My compliments to you.
Slainte! |
Shall i tell you another...
Written by Leo (573 comments posted) 24th May 2006 |
A maestro storyteller in full, seemless flow...
I somehow imagine you sitting at the end of the bar, whisky in hand, regaling all and sundry with wicked tales of adventures past, and then some..
(but i could be wrong - you could be a bookish and chaste virgin who has given her life to virtue)
we'll never know...
Thankyou |
Ta, guys
Written by Bottleblondesurfer (3291 comments posted) 24th May 2006 |
Thank you kindly, gentlemen, for your generous comments
Keep quiet about the knuckle-dusters Alastair,don't give them ideas!
Glad you liked in Gerard. and thanks for your constructive comments,that's what I'm here for.
I'm shocked at the image you have of me Leo. I have been chaste... and sometimes caught ( but don't tell the nuns) |
Written by Ludlow_Bangs (15 comments posted) 24th May 2006 |
| This is uncomplicated enough to evoke a true sense of 'genuiness' about it, which is its strength. It conjures a vivid picture, kudos. |
Hi BBS
Written by BrianRobertNeal (1195 comments posted) 24th May 2006 |
At Grammar School I became friendly with an Italian Lad who had been moved by his parents from a Local Jesuit Boys' School to our Co-Ed one.
We thought our school was "strict" but when Ray started to tell us tales about his old school, we realised what a Holiday Camp our one was. Ray was picked on by the priests because he was an only child!
However to balance this, my youngest son went to our local "Secular" Catholic Secondary School and enjoyed its warm and caring environment.
This is an engaging piece, in style and subject, quite unlike anything else that I've read by you.
Brian
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Written by woody44 (774 comments posted) 25th May 2006 |
shades of my father-in law here MrsB. (see my crit of Gerard`s latest offering over on comedy) He even had to say on a monday morning who he had sat next to at Mass the previous Sunday. Woe betide if he got it wrong! He became a lapsed Catholic for most of his adult life...
PS Nice, flowing piece. Well done!
happy writing... |
I laughed out loud twice ...
Written by johniebg (538 comments posted) 27th May 2006 |
and smiled throughout. I am only at the stage where I rant at religion, when I am past this I hope I can make it as enjoyable to read as this.
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Written by jean.day (2257 comments posted) 30th May 2006 |
| I too had to laugh outloud while reading this - especially the bit with the ruler being blessed by the Pope. I too went to school with nuns, but I really don't remember anybody getting hit by a ruler, although some were tied to their chairs and had sticking plaster over their mouths which maybe was a lot worse. Very enjoyable piece. |
Fabulous
Written by mishmish (389 comments posted) 2nd June 2006 |
I really enjoyed this little story. Very well written. You could feel the pain and humilation dripping off the screen.
How true you have evoked the memories of the 'dreaded ruler' and reading out in class.
No only are you a writer but I able time-traveller too...well I was certainly transported back!
best wishes
mishmish |
The blue box strikes again
Written by ellipinnock (1753 comments posted) 31st August 2006 |
This just came up in the little blue box of treats otherwise known as 'Work awaiting review' on the edge of my screen and, given the title, I just had to take a look! I must say, I'm very glad I did. Although laughing out loud at my computer is convincing my fellow scientists that I've finally lost it  Seriously though a lovely anecdote with great comedic narration on the events. I loved it.
Elli |
....and again!
Written by book_worm (13 comments posted) 24th January 2007 |
I'm glad it came in my little blue box too.
A delightful piece that just flowed so easily and painted a very vivid picture complete with real atmosphere.
I like your style |
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