I adored Sinéad O’Connor, sure, they do say opposites attract!
“I know nothing about the technicalities of singing, yet Sinéad had a range in her voice that bate Banagher,” says John Arnold
The ‘don’t rock the boat’ brigade are like the throngs in the story of the Emperor’s new clothes long ago -they saw he had nothing on, they knew he had nothing on, but, Lord save us from all harm, you wouldn’t want to be the one to say anything, now would you!
I suppose hypocrisy is the bedrock and foundation of many ills and evils in society - not just in today’s world, but right down through the ages. In fairness, it was a fairly popular trait amongst the Irish - say one thing but mean another.
We all know of the experience of being at a meeting or gathering to discuss some item or topic. Views are expressed and oft times agreement or consensus is reached to the satisfaction of most present - or so it seems on the surface at least. Ten minutes later, at the street corner, petrol station or pub, the very people who nodded and agreed are now expounding contrary views and giving out yards about the decision recently arrived at!
Does that scenario sound even vaguely familiar? Well, if you loved or hated Sinéad O’Connor, the one thing was always certain - you knew exactly where she stood on almost every matter.
Of course, her life was full of contradictions too, and some say she went from one extreme to another. Tearing up the Pope’s picture was absolutely disgraceful in the opinions and minds of many - no-one can deny that, and like Sinéad, everyone is quite entitled to express their strongly held views.
In her relatively short life, Sinéad sang, shocked, spoke eloquently and caused consternation at times. Isn’t that a mighty powerful way to live life and live it to the full, and that’s just what she did.
Strange, isn’t it then, that me, a staunch conservative, could admire and understand and even empathise with Sinead’s ultra-liberal views on society and the world, but don’t they say opposites attract?
Her voice was and will forever remain an instrument of exquisite beauty that expressed her inner feelings like no other human being ever did.
Everyone knows and recognises her rendition of Nothing Compares To You, and I suppose as long as her name will be remembered that ‘anthem’ will epitomise her style and vocal strength.
Her range was vast, from raucous, raunchy pop to eloquent hymns - but her way of interpreting old ballads was something else. The 1916 Rising Song The Foggy Dew and Peggy Gordon, My Singing Bird and She Moved Through The Fair... lads she could sing those in a manner to bring tears to a stone.
I’d sing an auld stranchain of a song myself occasionally, but ask me about key or note or harmony, shure I haven’t a clue. I know nothing about the technicalities of singing, yet Sinéad had a range in her voice that bate Banagher. For a tiny little figure of a woman, her vocal cords were out of this world, as was her ability to use silences and facial expressions to add to the words of the song.
Sorry to say I never met her, yet for over a decade I kind of ‘experienced’ her every winter. It was in the year 2007 I made my first ‘solo’ visit to Lourdes, by solo I mean I went alone, all alone, all on my own. Lourdes in November and December is so quiet -well, the ‘Domain’ or what we might term the ‘religious’ area is practically deserted. The thousands upon thousands who flock there daily in the summer and early autumn have all gone home. Most of the shops and Hotels are closed - it’s so quiet.
People say to me, ‘wouldn’t you be lonely there then?’ Alone definitely, but never lonely.
Anyhow, when I travel to Lourdes in November or December, I stay in the Spanish Convent on Rue Bagneure. Daily from here I walk the Rue de Grotte on my way down to the Grotto. It was in a hotel here in early 1999 that Sinéad was ordained as a priest of the Tridentine Church - she took the name Mother Mary Bernadette O’Connor. She lived for awhile in a large mansion set back from the street. At the time, she vowed she’d spend the rest of her life in Lourdes.
It would usually be 8 or 9 o’clock at night when I’d leave the Grotto and walk back that deserted Rue the Grotte to my lodgings. Passing the hotel and the house where Sinéad lived, I’d always smile to myself and her voice would fill my mind - not any of her many ‘hits’ or songs of rebellion or anger - no, but Sinéad O’Connor singing Make Me A Channel Of Your peace.
Back in the 1950s, Peg Scanlon, an orphan and a distant cousin of mine, went to a convent in London with the intention of becoming a nun. I’ll never know if she had a vocation to the religious life or not, but in the end, she was packed off home to Ireland- what they called ‘a spoilt nun’ - not really wanted by her relatives.
She ended up in a mental hospital where she spent over 50 years. At her funeral mass a few years back I sang Make Me A Channel Of Your Peace. Maybe Peg wanted to become a nun but she didn’t.
Sinead was searching all her life for truth, for certainty, and she thought ordination to the priesthood might bring her that peace she was always striving for. It didn’t, but that in no way diminishes her life and her unique gift of pricking our sometimes smug consciences.
Peg lived to be over 90, Sinéad was just 56, but as the Bible tells us, it’s not ‘length of days’ that matters, but how our given time is spent.
Oh, Master, grant that I may never seek
So much to be consoled as to console
To be understood as to understand
To be loved as to love with all my soul.
Sinéad O’Connor was a true free spirit with an open mind - yes, she suffered a lot, but her legacy to the world is a good lesson - think out, speak out, and don’t put off until tomorrow what can be done and said today.
Time is not measured
by the years that you live
But by the deeds that you do
and the joy that you give -
And each day as it comes
brings a chance to each one
To love to the fullest,
leaving nothing undone
That would brighten the life
or lighten the load
Of some weary traveller
lost on Life’s Road -
So what does it matter
how long we may live
If as long as we live
we unselfishly give.”
Helen Steiner Rice
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