Constant Reader discussion

"First Confession" by Frank O'Connor is our next short story. It is not in our anthology, but you can access it online at the following link:
http://www.ireland-information.com/fi...

The following biographical information about O'Connor is from:
http://www.bedfordstmartins.com/exper...

Frank O'Connor (1903-1966) was born Michael O'Donovan in Cork, Ireland. He later took the name Frank O'Connor as a pen name. His family's poverty forced him to leave school at age fourteen. O'Connor served in the Irish Republican Army during the civil war in Ireland that erupted after the 1922 treaty with Great Britain that resulted in the partitioning of Ireland into two states. The defeat of the IRA and the division of Ireland greatly disappointed O'Connor, feelings which are reflected in his first collection of stories Guests of the Nation (1931).

In the 1930s, O'Connor became director of the Abbey Theatre in Dublin, during which time he also wrote several plays and a biography of Michael Collins, the leader of the Irish rebellion against the British. O'Connor published several collections of short stories during his lifetime and several others have been published posthumously, including Collected Stories (1981), The Collar: Stories of Irish Priests, (1993), and A Frank O'Connor Reader (1994). His work is marked by its literary realism and its depiction of Irish life. O'Connor was also a noted literary critic and translator of Gaelic poetry into English.

Thanks, Barbara!

Odd that someone with the quintessential Irish name, Michael O'Donovan, would opt for a quintessential Irish pseudonym, Frank O'Connor. What's O'Up with that?

Also, I read the linked story and just want to forewarn people that there are more than a few typos (curse of the Internet). This version is slightly different than the print one I have, too, making me wonder if O'Connor rewrote it and if there is more than one incarnation. Either that or the person who entered it took a few liberties. How I would ever learn which is the case is beyond me.

I hope at some point we can dig into the story's use of humor and irony, two O'Connor staples. The Battle Royale between these siblings should send ALL of us back to younger days (though I had no sister and three brothers, so most of our spats were settled with sticks and stones).

And while it helps to be (or have been) Catholic and to know what it's like to enter that dreaded Confessional Box, it by no means is required for the reader to enjoy the literary merits. Terrific characterization, esp. through dialogue, here.

New England, thank you for suggesting this story for our list! It had me smiling throughout and reading sections aloud to my husband and son this afternoon.

I must say that, unlike Jackie, I loved the old grandmother who drank a jug of porter and had "a pot of potatoes with-some-times-a bit of salt fish and she poured the potatoes out on the table and ate them slowly, with great relish, using her fingers by way of a fork." And, she went barefoot all the time because her boots had her crippled. I feel much the same way about shoes.

But, then there's the awful sister Nora. Isn't she perfectly portrayed? The child in me was applauding that priest in the end.

This feels like an almost perfect story. And, though it comes from a different time, it doesn't feel dated to me. What do the rest of you think? And, did you love it as much as I did or did you think it was a bit of fluff?

BTW, I now have a new word for my vocabulary. The following definition of "caffler" comes from urbandictionary.com:

According to corkslang.com, caffler is a noun meaning a young rogue, an impish, saucy young fellow, an impertinent boy. It is used around Cork city in Ireland. It probably derived from French 'caviller'.
That fellow is a caffler.

' . . . . I rocked that little caffler in his cradle.' (Murphy)

'Young cafflers would come after me along the Mardyke calling me names.' (O'Mahony)

Oh, I like Gran, too, though she's not so much on stage as spoken of, but clearly Nora and Jackie steal the show here. O'Connor has an uncanny ear for both the dialogue and the psychology of children. He strikes me as a man who grew up but never grew up, and thus was able to capture sibling rivalry to perfection.

The satiric jabs at religious teachings are also amusingly spot on. The teacher who would have the kids hold their finger in a flame for five minutes straight reminded me of an "adult Nora." Leaping across literature, she reminded me of either the Widow Douglas or more likely her sister, Miss Watson, who tried to "civilize" Huck Finn and ALSO resorted to scare tactics vis-a-vis religion.

What is it about religion and fear? O'Connor has a few peoples' numbers here.

Have you read other things by O'Connor, NE? This story has me ready to run to the library to see if they have a collection of his writing. I loved finding out that he was director of the Abbey Theater in Dublin. I've been to Dublin twice, walked around the theater and read the history. Unforunately, I don't think there was anything playing at the time. But, I have great memories of standing outside imagining.

I was chuckling all the way through the story. I really like Irish writer's. Jackie was a typical eight year old. So do you think Nora went on to be a sinner? The priest said she would.

How does he know I wonder?

I liked Jackie's open innocence everything was so literal to him. The priest let Jackie remain a child for a while longer with penitence of only three Hail Mary's and the candy. Time enough to load the guilt on later.

I'm sure I've read a bunch of his short stories, but this, along with "My Oedipus Complex" http://www.cyc-net.org/cyc-online/cyc... , are the most famous.

Folks can also have "First Confession" read to them on youtube (though I do a better job of it -- I'm just not on youtube):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zpHgSV...

It's the first of two parts. Sounds like Orson Welles or something.

It gives the story a richer tone don't you think? I could listen all day to his story telling. NE if you tell stories like that you are a man of many talents. Thanks for the suggestion.

Misery loves company and Nora does her best to share hers with her brother. She reminds me a bit of a lobster, making sure none of the other lobsters escape their miserable tank.

The scene in the confessional in which Jackie is perched on the ledge and has to swing himself upside down to see the priest was the one I read to my family. It had me laughing out loud while everyone else was watching a football game.

O'Connor is masterful at presenting the dark, scary sides of religion with humor. He even balances the old woman, Ryan, with a likeable priest. I kept thinking of the "spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down" lyric from Mary Poppins.

Speaking of Ryan, I loved the line, "She may have mentioned the other place as well, but that could only have been by accident, for hell had the first place in her heart."

Mike, I just heard that about lobsters keeping the others from leaving the tank. Maybe it was on Craig Ferguson. I didn't know about it before.

How does a lobster "escape" a tank, except when pulled out by the seafood salesperson? Don't tell me the tank of lobsters takes on the man with the rubber glove.

And yes, O'Connor's treatment of the "religious folk" in this tale uses an old trick often seen with kids as protagonists in literature, dramatic irony via point of view. That is, we the readers know things that Jackie the narrator does NOT know. What's more, we accept it because he is so young -- in fact, feel all the more sympathy with him.

Thus when Ryan goes into such dramatic detail about burning in Hell forever, it's all transparent as (sorry) hell to us. But to Jackie? Jay! It's the real thing.

The anecdote of the burnt hands on the bed makes an even bigger impression on the lad. Fear is a weapon, but we laugh because we see through it.

Interesting, too, that Ryan is described as being well off. Adult lording it over mere child. Rich scaring the bejesus out of working-class kids. And all, no doubt, while not tending to her own life.

This is old-school Catholicism being brought down the best way -- with humor. I daresay humor helps O'Connor escape the slight hint of misogyny in this tale, too. After all, it's not WOMEN being criticized so much as his SISTER (um, and religious instructor...).

put a bunch of lobsters in a tank without a lid and they'll pile and scale over each other trying to get out. their problem is they don't let each other escape. whenever one gets close the others pull it back down in attempts to take its place. so yes, as long as you have friends like that, death is the only escape. it's sisyphusian, if that's a word.

i thought the story did a good job of exposing religious hypocrisy. i agree the humor and perspective are what make it work so well. the other aspect that stuck out to me is the parental alignments, daddy-daughter and momma's boy. i don't know what to make of it.

Ties in nicely with O'Connor's other story (linked above), "My Oedipal Complex."

Common wisdom says that daughters get along better with Dads and sons with Moms, but that's not a hard and fast rule, it's just "common wisdom."

Clearly, though, there are favorites being played in this family. Every family does it, they say, but most keep it to themselves (I should hope!).

Kitty wrote: "So do you think Nora went on to be a sinner? The priest said she would. How does he know I wonder?"

She's presented as a person that does things for reward: grandma's Friday penny, being daddy's favorite by telling on Jackie, public demonstration of penance. I don't know that kind of motivation can last a lifetime, at least not in religious adherence where the reward is often promised in the afterlife.

Newengland wrote: "Ties in nicely with O'Connor's other story (linked above), "My Oedipal Complex."


I'll give it a read. I like "First Confession" and would like to try another from him.

Let me know if you like it, Mike.

As for Nora, I think she will remain a hypocrite as an adult (is that synonymous with being a "sinner"?). Again, I see Ryan as an echo of the Noras-that-will-be.

Note the end of the story. When Nora learns about the bullseyes awarded to Jackie, she is genuinely outraged and cries out against the lack of justice in the world. That is, she considers herself every bit as holy and religious as an old, rich lady (Ryan) who scares the bejesus out of little kids does.

People are infamous for seeing faults in others but having no clue as to themselves. They seem to lack a moral mirror. I speak not only of this story but of real life, where everyone seems to be pointing fingers at others and never at themselves.

What do you expect, them to take the plank out of their eyes when it is so easy to see the splinter in someone else's eye.

I think the priest had Nora down pat.
"Someone will go for her with a bread-knife one day, and he won't miss her," he said rather cryptically.

I think we all know people like Nora who present themselves as if butter wouldn't melt in their mouths, holy and the next words out are rotten.

I thought that Nora was sort of the typical unpleasant older sister stereotype, but done very cleverly by O'Connor. I have an impression that mothers are a bit deified in older Irish fiction, but a lot of other woman are portrayed as bullying types. I'm certainly not an expert in Irish fiction though so please feel free to point out the exceptions to me.

I loved that story about the burned hands on the bed. Didn't it feel like a story you'd hear around the campfire as a kid?

But, treating his fears more seriously, I do remember how devastated I was at about the age of 10 when I heard Hell described as a place where you would burn forever. I pondered unending pain for a very long time. Thankfully, my mother eased my fears by telling me that she didn't believe in Hell. Poor Jackie didn't have such an enlightened source, but the priest came close.

I just finished reading/listening to the You-Tube (thanks for the link, NewEngland!).

Wow. Loved it. I appreciated the humor and smiled all through the story. But on a deeper level, things with religious themes really resonate with me. We all come from different backgrounds, but I - for one - am a bit (LOT) scarred by what I was taught as a child growing up in a cult-like religion/community. It has taken me many years to recover. So this light-hearted look at what religion does to children works for me! Oh the hypocrisy. And then the nicest person to Jackie turns out to be the priest.

I'm interested in more by this author. Great pick!

My favorite O'Connor story, though, is "Guests of the Nation," especially in terms of its structure. It's totally different, and it will give you an idea of his range as an author. Here's a link to an on-line version:

http://webcache.googleusercontent.com...

I think I'll teach this story along with "My Oedipal Complex," the next time I have a fiction class.

I teach this story to 8th graders and they get a big kick out of it, Pamela. What grade are you trafficking in?

P.S. You're welcome, Jana, for the link. Glad you enjoyed!

I just ordered "The Best of Frank O'Connor" and "The Lonely Voice: A Study of the Short Story" from my library. The latter is written by him and I thought it would be interesting. Thanks for the suggestions for other stories (Pamela and NewEngland), I'll be reading them soon!

I traffic in college sophomores and juniors and the occasional senior. I teach courses in humanities and creative writing (usually poetry sections), though sometimes the powers that be let me loose on literature and fiction.

This story is a hoot, and who wouldn't enjoy reading of Nora getting her comeuppance?

I had a hard time picturing Jackie upside-down from the little ledge in the confessional, though. Those ledges are along the bottom of the screen between the priest's side & the penitent's side. If Jackie were hanging upside down from the ledge, his feet would be visible through the screen, but not his face.... In fact, his head would be pretty close to the floor! So I can't picture it. I can picture the sibling bickering pretty well, though! As well as the nice young priest.

I'm not Catholic and have never been in a confessional, Mary Ellen. Could they be different in different countries, time periods, etc.? It did seem a bit strange in placement though, now that you mention it.

The sibling bickering is truly timeless, isn't it?

Barbara, it is true that not all confessionals are/have been built the same way (for example, I saw some in Italy in which there is an enclosed space for the priest, but none for the person "confessing"!) but IIRC, O'Connor described the ledge as being a place for a penitent to rest his/her elbows --- which would put it at the lower edge of the screened window. (In these traditional, older-styled confessionals, people "confess" while kneeling, and that elbow-ledge helps with balance & getting up, for the older set especially!)

Newengland wrote: "Let me know if you like it, Mike."

I think My Oedipal Complex is good but I do prefer First Confession. I think my attraction to FC is based more on the theme of religious hypocrisy and because it seems to have more bite to it. If I were teaching literature I might use both stories to discuss perspective and focalization. Both stories present a child's perspective well.

Some of the scenes in MOC reminded me of my son when he was small. He has always gone to bed early and woken up early on his own. I remember many times lying in bed in the early morning and sensing a strange presence. I would open my eyes and my son would just be standing there, looking at me. The fact that he was small enough that his head while standing up was level with my head while lying down made the experience even more startling. He wasn't up to anything, he just basically wanted me to lift him into bed so he could lie between us.

Pamela wrote: "My favorite O'Connor story, though, is "Guests of the Nation," especially in terms of its structure."


Thanks for this story Pamela. I read it yesterday but I still feel a bit unsettled when I think about it today. The situation, characters, and action make my skin crawl.

Mike, your description of your son brought back memories for me, too. It must just be a kid thing to do, like cats like to scratch and stretch and dogs like to circle their beds and stretch.

When an author has a knack for something, POV-wise, he runs with it. I think O'Connor had it for little kids but, like I said, there were ulterior motives. Just as humor is an effective persuasive device, so is a child an effective satiric device. It's slightly disarming and makes me think of the schoolyard bully who will take on any boy in the school but is at a loss when a girl comes in swinging (it's lose-lose in a situation like that). Thus, a Catholic might debate an atheist until the sacred cows come home, but to take issue with a kid playing all dumb in the face of church sacraments and rituals? Not as easy.

The book I'm reading now has an author like O'Connor. It's and Hughes has an uncanny ear and eye for the innocent brutality (or brutal innocence, if you prefer) of children. As Francine Prose says in her introduction, it turns Rousseau's "born innocent" theory on its ear.

Anyone who buys the "born innocent" theory clearly hasn't spent much time around children, and has rather suspect memories of his own childhood! lol

I don't know much about O'Connor's personal life and have no idea whether he continued to be Catholic as an adult. But, in addition to depicting hypocrisy (a trait not confined to believers), he also gives us an example of a sacramental confession "working," because of the insight, humor and kindness of the priest.

I remember as a child having to make the choice about which line to get in, for confession. One priest was very nice, soft-spoken, but gave slightly longer penances than the pastor, who was a little deaf and therefore spoke a bit loud. So the choice: should I risk having folks outside the confessional -- including my mom, dad & brothers! - hear what he and/or I were saying (since you had to "speak up" for him!), to get a penance shy of a few "Hail Mary's"? I usually went for short, loud & sweet!

I'm currently reading which also puts the "born innocent" theory out the window.

Wow. I just finished "Guest of the Nation" (thank you for the link, Pamela). I don't think I will forget that soon. It appears that he was only 25 years old when he wrote it.

Impatiently awaiting my library copy for more O'Connor stories...

Good point, Mary Ellen. In today's atmosphere of priest-bashing (started at the epicenter of Boston), we forget that the vast majority of RC priests are probably faithful to the tenets of their faith and are not moral miscreants like the child abusers, et. al., who have now made the papers worldwide.

In that sense, O'Connor has depicted a priest who is kind, sensitive, savvy, and... oh my God... LIBERAL! By that I mean, he seems to weigh psychology more than he does dogma (as, say, Nora would hope) in meting out justice (or penance, in this case).

I, too, was brought up Catholic so I can relate to the terror aspect of this poem. I was intimidated in a big way by the "shadow" on the other side of the screen, and even though I knew it was Father Kelly or Father Sullivan (who later left the church and married!), the whispering voice sounded different and almost other-worldly.

Still, he helped me when I tripped up on the Act of Contrition. That and didn't seem the least surprised. Plus, outside in class, he never acted as if he had "insider information" on me and treated me the same.

THAT made an impression on my young sensibilities.


Jana -- Glad you're on an O'Connor tear of late!

I just finished "Guest of the Nation." What a story to knock the wind out of you and it certainly shows O'Connor's range.


SPOILER






I did think the reaction of the English a bit odd, in that they didn't try to get away, in the dark and with the long time (or it seemed long, endless as I was reading, hoping and dreading) they were walking, debating, etc. Perhaps the hope had been knocked out of them at some point before they'd been captured.

Newengland: I, too, was brought up Catholic so I can relate to the terror aspect of this poem. I was intimidated in a big way by the "shadow" on the other side of the screen, and even though I knew it was Father Kelly or Father Sullivan (who later left the church and married!), the whispering voice sounded different and almost other-worldly.

It seems we were posting simultaneously! I agree, the confession in "the box" was an almost spooky experience! In our parish though, as noted above, Fr. O'Connell never whispered! :)

Hi everyone, I had hoped to be around for this one but problems have been plaguing my access to Goodreads now for some weeks. These appear to have abated, so finaly here I am.

Great to see you all liked this story so much. I had a slightly experience reading it. I made some notes when I first read it a couple of weeks back before being able to get back on the board which I shall now append, but I will mention now that I hadn't read anything about the author prior to reading this story, and I haven't got the bandwidth here to watch the Youtube Video which is such a shame given it sounds great and it fits with one of my initial thoughts that this story would be better read aloud.

Here's was what I noted down at its reading -

This story left me in two minds. First, on the whole did not like the writing - I have no idea how typical it is of the author as this was the first time I have read anything by him and don't know anything about him . Why? I just didn't feel grounded in the story. It wasn't until the mention of a half crown that I realised this was set in my country. Before that the voice sounded to me more like an American. Why? I am not sure. (Half a crown by the way was in predecimalisation coinage 2 shillings and 6 pence, a crown being 5 shillings. Crown coins were gone by my childhood but half crown were still in circulation in the late 1950s.) But then later Nora says " be sure, ..." and "Begor.." which are not British phraseology more Irish and likewise the phraseology of the priest was more Irish. All finicky points granted but a symptom of the difficulty I had reading the first two thirds of this story. I found the author's style quite hard to concentrate on reading. So many commas! I suspect that the story would benefit from being read aloud, with the commas indicating the momentary pauses in speech as the reader lets the sentiments come to reside in the listener's mind more fully. Reading it just got me irritated with such long sentances.

I also had some problems with the child characters. didn't hear the narrator as a boy until Nora was talking to him walking him own the hill to confession. Then I am confused as to their ages. At first I thought young children, or older person remembering, but that Jackie refers to Nora as a women, not a girl, and the priest refers to him as a big hefty fellow, with his first confession going to cover "the crimes of a lifetime" So something didn't sit right for me in the author's style
- I don't really know how to articulate it.

However I must say I liked the character of the priest - I thought he handled Jackie’s confession really well, with his purposefully gruesome stories about hangings - just gory enough to interest a young boy, just bad enough to put him off murder. Child psychology instead of dogma, nice one, Father! And I loved the ending - bullseyes all round there.

So was I just getting used to his style when it ended, or was there something more fundamental happening that made the last third much better than the first part in my opinion?

I confirmed that there is more than one "version" of this story. The copy I have at school (and I meant to bring it home) is MUCH more Irish than this one. Whether by O'Connor or another party, this version seems quite "Americanized" or something. The other version features much more of the Irish vernacular, and even has an extended description of the insides of the church as Jackie is looking around for an escape before going into the confessional. But, short of typing the damned thing in here, there's not much I can do but tell you about it.

Sheila, I think it's the rift between the author's adult intentions and the story's child characters that's caught you. The last part dwells more on an adult (the priest), melding the two, and you seem to like that. I definitely hear the author's voice when Nora, along with all others, is referred to as part of that evil party known as "women." And the bit about Jackie being a "big fellow"? More psychology at play, I think. I can recall being called a "young man" many a time in my youth when I was far, far from that goal -- both physically and mentally. It is a peculiarity of adults. See Louisa, her sister May, and Alcott (Little Women and Little Men) for more of same type thing.

Glad you're fully accessed and on board!

NE, yes I read the version posted online. Maybe I was picking up on that Americanisation or perhaps its editing made it bit more disjointed. What a shame when such editing is done, particularly if not by tthe author. But then again, for me, reworking before publication is one thing, minor corrections and revisions are acceptable in some writings but a major rework of a work of ficion,.....mmm ...not so sure about that. It gives me the same uneasy feeling I have about versions of films, director's cut v release versions etc. Ack maybe I'm a bt of a purist and think an artist shouldn't let go of control over his work even for commercial gain from film release or book publication.

You are right I did like and relate to the adult parts at the end more. I'm also thinking I probably don't generally like children's voices as narrators - I was party to a discussion elsewhere on CR about that in the context of Room by Emma Donaghue and I'm just about to test that theory out, so we'll see.

What more can I say, it just didn't work for me. But then that's what I like getting the opportunity to try out all these new author's.

Nice to be back - by the way, your picture gets me everytime!

NE, yes I read the version posted online. Maybe I was picking up on that Americanisation or perhaps its editing made it bit more disjointed. What a shame when such editing is done, particularly if not by tthe author. But then again, for me, reworking before publication is one thing, minor corrections and revisions are acceptable in some writings but a major rework of a work of ficion,.....mmm ...not so sure about that. It gives me the same uneasy feeling I have about versions of films, director's cut v release versions etc. Ack maybe I'm a bt of a purist and think an artist shouldn't let go of control over his work even for commercial gain from film release or book publication.

You are right I did like and relate to the adult parts at the end more. I'm also thinking I probably don't generally like children's voices as narrators - I was party to a discussion elsewhere on CR about that in the context of Room by Emma Donaghue and I'm just about to test that theory out, so we'll see.

What more can I say, it just didn't work for me. But then that's what I like getting the opportunity to try out all these new author's.

Nice to be back - by the way, your picture gets me everytime!