"I belong to the middle class that grew up very influenced by the Catholic church. The people of the novel are from a more pagan and practical world in which the Christianity is just a veneer"
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McGahern draws a clean line between lived religion and performed religion, and the blade is class. By locating himself in a middle class “very influenced by the Catholic church,” he’s not offering a pious biography; he’s naming an institution that functioned like infrastructure in mid-century Ireland: schooling, respectability, sexual regulation, the whole social operating system. “Influenced” is doing quiet work here. It suggests not just belief, but formation and pressure - the church as an atmosphere you breathe before you ever decide what you think.
Then he pivots to the novel’s people, who come from a “more pagan and practical world.” “Pagan” in McGahern isn’t cosplay folklore; it’s a shorthand for older loyalties: land, kin, weather, appetite, survival. “Practical” is the clue that this isn’t romantic primitivism. These characters aren’t enlightened rebels; they’re calibrated to what gets you through a week. In that setting, Christianity becomes “just a veneer,” a brilliant, slightly cruel metaphor: thin, socially necessary, easily scratched. Veneer is what you apply to make something look like the approved thing without changing its grain.
The intent is both aesthetic and moral. He’s defending a kind of realism that scandalized respectable Ireland: the idea that Catholic Ireland’s official story often sat atop a deeper, more ambivalent reality. The subtext is also autobiographical craft. McGahern writes as someone who knows the church’s interior power, which lets him see exactly how it can become surface - ritual as camouflage, doctrine as a badge, faith as a public language spoken over private instincts.
Then he pivots to the novel’s people, who come from a “more pagan and practical world.” “Pagan” in McGahern isn’t cosplay folklore; it’s a shorthand for older loyalties: land, kin, weather, appetite, survival. “Practical” is the clue that this isn’t romantic primitivism. These characters aren’t enlightened rebels; they’re calibrated to what gets you through a week. In that setting, Christianity becomes “just a veneer,” a brilliant, slightly cruel metaphor: thin, socially necessary, easily scratched. Veneer is what you apply to make something look like the approved thing without changing its grain.
The intent is both aesthetic and moral. He’s defending a kind of realism that scandalized respectable Ireland: the idea that Catholic Ireland’s official story often sat atop a deeper, more ambivalent reality. The subtext is also autobiographical craft. McGahern writes as someone who knows the church’s interior power, which lets him see exactly how it can become surface - ritual as camouflage, doctrine as a badge, faith as a public language spoken over private instincts.
Quote Details
| Topic | Faith |
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