Fiction | June 19, 2020
O’Herlihy (Née Noonan)
On the second of April 1923 she was born in the main bedroom of the family home, in Drumcondra. Her colour was deep blue. The thundery richness of this blue, almost purple, with the yellow marbling of the afterbirth strung tight across it, caused the midwife to fear cyanosis. The midwife said nothing but took strong measures. She smacked the baby’s blood into motion with the flat of her hand, made loud entreaties. “Come along, come along, comealongcomealong,” she said. Mary’s reluctance to commence life, to acquiesce to the torment of existence, earned her the reputation of a slow starter, which she was to retain into old age. When at last she cried out from the midwife’s blows, she did so quietly, as if apologising for making her small dent in the surface of things.
The next day’s Irish Times carried the following announcement:
NOONAN—April 2nd, at 2 Glendalough Road, Drumcondra, the wife of P. J. Noonan, of a daughter.
If you are a student, faculty member, or staff member at an institution whose library subscribes to Project Muse, you can read this piece and the full archives of the Missouri Review for free. Check this list to see if your library is a Project Muse subscriber.
Want to read more?Subscribe Today
SEE THE ISSUE
Jan 07 2022
PinelandJason Brown 1966 Dear Lemuel, For me, all the consequential decisions are in the past, except, as you will see, the decision to write this letter. You may rest assured
Jan 07 2022
ReclamationDevin Murphy My whole life I’ve had this feeling at my core that people wouldn’t remember me from one meeting to the next and was surprised, even touched, if they
Jan 06 2022
The Last Reported Sighting of the European Goldfinch
The Last Reported Sighting of the European Goldfinch in MichiganDavid M. Sheridan When my friend Essa said, some years ago, that she had become a “birder,” I couldn’t place the