FURTHERMORE
By Gerry Moran
Being a newspaper man has its advantages. This Arts Week (as it was known and always will be known to folks of my vintage), thanks to my association with the Fourth Estate, I was able to get the autograph of a very famous person. Very, very famous person. Now straightway let me state that I am in no way enamoured with fame. Never was. Never will be. This, however, was something special. Something very special. Something unique. Something I simply have to write about and something I feel obliged to share with you.
First I had to make an appointment to visit this person. Furthermore I was told that this person would give me 10 minutes of their time and that I was not to ask any questions. Found that a bit – a lot – strange but, knowing how famous, or rather infamous, this person was, I parked my concerns and reminded myself how rare, how precious this occasion was.
I was to arrive 10 minutes prior to my audience which I did and enjoyed some banter with the person’s mentors about the weather (what else?) and, of course, the various performances we had enjoyed throughout the week – I loved Sam Perkin’s The More Beautiful World in St Canice’s Cathedral which centred on Ciaran Hind’s poignant, and powerful, reading from the inspirational book by the American activist Charles Eisenstein; they loved Neon Dusk in the Castle Yard. Gerry, enough auld guff who the hell were you meeting? Okay, okay … are you ready for this?
ALICE KYTELER, Dame Alice Kyteler or Kilkenny’s witch as she is known. But, Gerry, Alice Kyteler died over 650 years ago. Precisely. And is that not reason enough to label this encounter very, very special and unique? You bet. Fair dues to Kilkenny’s Arts Festival they ‘resurrected’ Alice, so to speak, and allowed us, the people of Kilkenny, her fellow citizens, to hear her voice.
Soon I was ushered in to meet Alice. And there she was, Kilkenny’s witch – a toothless old hag in black cape and pointed hat! No way. Alice was attired all in red, vibrant red, red for passion, right? And, as I listened to Alice’s tale of woe, how Bishop Richard DeLedrede was accusing her of god-awful heretical practices, I genuinely felt for her. Indeed as I looked, gazed, into her beautiful eyes, I think I fell in love with her. And suddenly I understood how four elderly gentlemen (with money) fell for this beautiful young woman. And although I was admonished not to speak to Alice throughout our 10 minute session I cheekily told her that I would willingly become her fifth husband and run away with her to Inistioge or the Isle of Man or Iowa.
Of course I didn’t. But I did say, looking into her captivating blue eyes (or were they green?) that I understood how four elderly men (with money of course) fell for her charms – charms, as in potions and pills, that would eventually be the death of them. Still, I was prepared to take my chances.
In no time at all our 10 minutes were up and off I toddled but not before getting Alice’s autograph – something special, something very special, something unique, you’ll agree .
Of course if I had my wits about me I should also have got her phone number!
