Telling Stories…A Glimpse Back…on Twenty-nine Years with the Irish Edition

(photos above: Mary Gordon, Jay McInerney, and Colm Toibin)

By Sabina Clarke

In 1991 when I was promoting Inherit the Wind starring Jason Miller and Malachy McCourt in a City Hall courtroom, I interviewed Jason for The Catholic Standard & Times and wondered where I would put my interview with Malachy.

“Call Jane at the Irish Edition,” suggested Malachy. So I called Jane and introduced myself. In her official prim and proper manner she asked “And for what papers have you written?” Although I had freelanced for several I answered Philadelphia Magazine (“Pete Dexter’s Last Words”) — that should impress I thought. And that was my introduction to the Irish Edition.

I met Malachy at the Charlotte Cushman home, a residence for actors in Center City Philadelphia. I was hoping that he would not mention the Brehon Laws the ancient laws of Ireland of which I knew little—so I was relieved when the topic did not come up.

Since that first Irish Edition interview “Malachy the Marvelous” there followed many more: James Carroll, William Kennedy, Denis McFarland, T.Coraghessan Boyle, Niall Williams, David Talbot, Jay McInerney, Mary Gordon, Edna O’Brien, Mary McGarry Morris, Colm Toibin, Joe Queenan, Paul Murphy, Terry McAuliffe, George Mitchell, Bernadette Devlin, Gerry Adams, Jim Kenney, John Dougherty, Pat Eiding, Tom Cronin, Sister Mary Scullion, Tommy Gibbons, Bob O’Donnell, Paul Doris, Kevin Dougherty, Katie McGinty, Joseph Heenan, John Timoney, Roy Bourgeois, Brian Whelan, Jamie Wyeth, John Dean, Jim McCans, Dr.Denis Burkitt, Patrick Radden Keefe, Joe Frazier, Harry Gamble, Lorna Byrne, Terry McAuliffe, Pearse Doherty, Mary Lou McDonald, Sister Breige McKenna, Joseph Lennon, Peter Donohue and Robert Kanigel who wrote that marvelous book On An Irish Island and most notable of all Daniel Berrigan —and the list goes on…but I think this is a good place to end the count.

I remember them all. Some of the more memorable moments occurred with Mary Gordon. For a few minutes there was a slight lull in our conversation and needing to fill the gap, I asked a stupid question that I had never asked before—“What are your hobbies?” I was horrified. For a minute she looked astonished and then quickly recovered “I know every word to every musical….” that became my headline “What Are Your Hobbies, Mary Gordon” I had taken a two and a half hour lunch for the interview and heard they were looking for me at the job, since I was handling a big event that night. Oh well, Mary Gordon is important. I had no qualms. I would do it over again.

“Reformation of A Literary Brat” was my interview with Jay McInerney who became an overnight publishing sensation in 1986 with his first book Bright Lights, Big City which he is said to have written in three weeks.

When we met at the Ritz Hotel it was early evening. I had a Bloody Mary and he had a coke. I wondered if he might be a recovering alcoholic. I did know he was smitten with models and pedigrees. He had dated Marla Hanson, the model who had been slashed across her face with a knife by an ex-boyfriend. And one of his marriages was to a Southern belle — it is not easy to enter Southern society unless you are born into it or marry in to it. Currently he is married to his fourth wife socialite and publishing heiress Anne Randolph Hearst.

My interview with Edna O’Brien was surprisingly personal and revealing. It is also in a collection Irish Literary Portals “The Irrepressible Edna O’Brien.” She has always been one of my favorite writers. A few years later I attended a dinner for her at The Plough & the Stars restaurant in Olde City Philadelphia. At one point in the conversation, I said “Edna, you should position Gerry Adams for the Nobel Peace Prize.” There was total silence at the table. No one said a word. The tension was palpable. I turned to W. Speers, the Philadelphia Inquirer columnist, and suggested we go to the bar for a drink. When we returned everything was back to normal. I realized I had unintentionally struck a chord. This was her party. When she was leaving she walked up to me and gave me a hug.

Perhaps one of the most inexplicable phenomena occurred when attempting to transcribe my interview in 1994 with Bernadette Devlin McAliskey whom I had admired for years; she is truly brilliant and so unaffected. We had dinner at the Vesper Club in downtown Philadelphia and in between table talk, I interviewed her and then listened to her speak to the Brehon Law Society. I put my tape recorder on the podium and turned the tape over on the other side to capture her talk. Then at some point, someone spilled a drink on the tape recorder. The next day when I listened to the tape it was totally blank on both sides. Then by some miracle that I cannot explain—a day later the entire interview was there—the work of a leprechaun or the tape dried out — but the mystery of this still fascinates me. The title of that interview was “Whatever Happened to Bernadette Devlin?”

When I met Colm Toibin at the Union League I had just read his short story collection Mothers and Sons which I absolutely adored. As he approached me I thought with his sturdy physique and rough-hewn features he looked more like a longshoreman than a writer — but his deep , dark, wide set eyes were the giveaway — such sensitivity. He may be at the very top of my list. A few years later I was asked to arrange a private tour for him at the old Barnes Museum in Merion. He loved it. He was lost in each painting — oblivious to anyone around him. I did not want his latest book House of Names — to end. It is a retelling of the myth of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra. Some books you can read over and over again.

For my interview with Harry Gamble former manager of the Philadelphia Eagles titled “Braman’s Best Gamble” John Merrit the photographer for the Irish Edition and a Philadelphia cop, who was the bodyguard for Mayor John Street, picked me up at my job to take me to the Eagles office. Another extended lunch hour from my day job for the Irish Edition — as I said before, first things first! I really expanded his story by also interviewing Gamble’s close friends: The Philadelphia Inquirer sports writer Frank Dolson over dinner and Harry Himes, the Eagles’ players contract lawyer at his office, and Eagles wide-receiver Mike Quick and owner Norman Braman and Coach Rich Kotite over the phone. Gamble loved it.

“The Agonizing Birth of a First Novel” was my interview with Jennifer Egan whose career I have not followed since her debut novel Invisible Circus a book best forgotten. As an aspiring writer she joined a reading circle in New York. When it was her turn to read the same man in her reading circle would always lament “I think we’ve heard enough.” Joe Morgenstern the movie critic for The Wall Street Journal concluded his review of the film adaptation of the book asking “Why was this movie ever made?” I meant to contact him a kindred spirit because his review made me laugh. While Jennifer Egan plugged on.

In 1981, I attended for one day Dan Berrigan’s trial in Norristown, Pennsylvania for the Plowshares 8 Action not knowing much but more for the drama of it all. Then serendipitously in 2001, I was introduced to Berrigan at a reception with the actor Martin Sheen. My attention immediately went to Berrigan standing silently unobtrusively. I tucked this in the back of my mind.

In 2008 thinking his phone number might be listed I looked him up. He had company when I called and asked me to call the next day adding ‘if you don’t get me at first, keep trying because I am worth it.’

We met at his apartment in the Jesuit Community House in New York. He was in good form and good spirits. For this interview “Breaking Bread with Father Berrigan” I was well prepared. We talked about his life growing up in Minnesota and then in upstate New York and his Irish father and German mother and his brother Philip — and about writers we both knew and admired Mary Gordon and Edna O’Brien.

The enormity of this was like no other interview. I was aware from the beginning that this man is a saint and that anything I had to say was completely irrelevant. There is no way to top an afternoon with a saint.