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Brian FrielA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
There are two Michaels in Dancing at Lughnasa. The first is an adult man who narrates the play, framing the action of 1936 as a memory he recalls many years later. The second is Michael is a seven-year-old boy (the age he was in 1936). There is even (arguably) a third version of Michael that does not appear on stage but is addressed in his narration: a half-brother of his same age and name who sends him a letter in the 1950s.
Both (physical) versions of Michael are positioned in such a way that they are simultaneously present and absent in his memory, an idea which accords with Michael’s reflection of memory as a gray space “between what seemed to be and what was…” (2) and a feeling that seems “both itself and its own echo” (71). The sensibility of being one’s “own echo” is augmented by Friel’s direction that the adult Michael “also speaks the lines of the boy, i.e. himself when he was seven” (i). Young Michael is often absent from the audience’s view, making kites whose artwork is not revealed until the very end of the play. When the adult Michael narrates, he speaks from a space of futurity, foreshadowing events that extend beyond the scope of the play. As he speaks, the lights of the memory scene dim, and the movement of the actors either stills into a tableau, or assumes a slow-shifting, dreamlike quality.
Michael is unique from the rest of his family in his ability to escape from the dire circumstances that befall them. He notes that he got out as soon as he could and that “in the selfish way of young men I was happy to escape” (71). He is also unique from the other characters in that he knows what happens to the family beyond the remembered scenes of 1936. Michael explains, however, that his knowledge is far from complete, that “the scraps of information I gathered about their lives…were too sparse to be coherent” (60). He also reflects on the gauzy nature of his own memory, wherein “everything is simultaneously actual and illusory” (71).
While Friel leaves Michael’s motives in revisiting this memory open to viewer interpretation, he offers numerous suggestions, including nostalgia, regret, a longing to assemble fragments of information, a desire to reconcile himself to failed expectations, and a lingering sensation of unfulfilled potentialities.
Christina is Michael’s twenty-six-year-old mother. She does not have a job or source of income and is notably the most aimless member of the household. When Michael’s absentee father, Gerry, visits the cottage, she is initially wary of him, reflecting that it is not in Gerry’s nature to settle down. When they dance together, however, her demeanor changes, and her “whole face” (33) is lit up by the pleasure of their physical connection.
Christina is also similarly divided in her communication with young Michael. In the beginning of the play, she is the only sister who doesn’t dote on him, dismissing him as “spoiled” and “cheeky” (10). However, when Gerry returns, her demeanor toward Michael substantially brightens, and she speaks optimistically about their future as a family, declaring “You are a lucky boy and I am a very, very lucky woman” (36-37). Christina thus illustrates the power of dancing—the pagan escapism Kate fears—to transform one’s perspective on her relationships and life situation.
At forty years old, Kate is the eldest sister and assumes authority as head of the household. As a school teacher for the local parish, she is the only family member with a steady job and a stable source of income. Kate is very conscious of her responsibilities as the family’s provider and she frequently assumes the role of enforcer, maintaining an environment where everyone’s duties are fulfilled, everyone is kept in strong physical health, and her own Catholic values are upheld.
Upholding these values frequently revolves around controlling the behavior of her sisters when they express what Kate believes to be “pagan” desires. She prohibits them from going to the Lughnasa Festival with the argument that it celebrates drunkenness and immoral pagan rituals. She urges her sisters to comport themselves when they dance and sing along with the Marconi, chiding “If you knew your prayers as well as you know the words of those aul pagan songs!” (35) Friel suggests, however, that Kate’s true fears extend beyond religion to her own deeply-harbored romantic longings. These longings are evidenced when Rose remarks on Kate’s fondness for store owner Austin Morgan, and when Kate prevents the Marconi from being thrown out.
Of the five sisters, Kate seems the most strongly attached to Jack, in part because he represents hope for improving their family’s reputation. She is eager to cure his malaria, telling him the town will celebrate his return as soon as he’s well. She continually asks when he will be ready to deliver the mass, hoping the restoration of his Catholic faith will come with the restoration of his physical health. Her optimism is dampened, however, by the revelation that she can’t truly “cure” Jack of both his fever and his adopted Ugandan pagan beliefs; the best she can do is attempt to “help…contain [them]” (11). She does so by trying to keep knowledge of Jack’s condition “in the family” (49). Word eventually reaches the parish priest, who dismisses Kate with the claim that their numbers have diminished (though Kate knows that he is really just concerned about her connection to Jack).
Rose is a thirty-two-year-old woman who is described as “simple” (ii). Her demeanor is sweet and childlike; she adores her sisters, wears her rain boots year-round, and has a predilection for “milk” and “chocolate biscuits” (5). To help earn extra money, she knits glove with Agnes, for whom she has a special fondness. All of her sisters, however, are very protective of Rose, believing that a local boy from the back hills—Danny Bradley—is trying to take advantage of her innocence.
Friel raises questions, however, regarding Rose’s sexual maturity, even suggesting that in some ways she knows more than her sisters. She recognizes Kate’s fondness for Austin Morgan, and she strategizes to meet Danny in the back hills on the final evening of Lughnasa. When the sisters try to diminish Danny’s attentions toward her, Rose remarks—with a note of truth—that they are “just jealous” of her (6). Rose is, significantly, the only sister who has not given up on her pursuit of romance.
Maggie, the second-oldest sister at thirty-eight, is the family’s housekeeper and maternal caregiver. She is also a playful jokester, constantly singing songs and posing riddles to young Michael. The lyrics of Maggie’s songs and the language of Maggie’s riddles often poetically bespeak undertones of the family’s situation. For example, when she pretends to release an imaginary bird for Michael, she evokes the sensation of time and romance passing the sisters by: “The colours are beautiful…Trouble is—just one quick glimpse—that’s all you ever get. And if you miss that…” (14). With her cheerful, free-spirited demeanor, Maggie serves as a kind of foil for Kate. She also frequently serves to mitigate Kate’s controlling personality as Kate’s closest familial confidant.
Jack is a fifty-three-year-old missionary priest who served for twenty-five years at a leper colony in Ryanga, Uganda. He is sent home to Ballybeg in poor health, thin and feverish with malaria. Throughout the play’s first act, Jack wanders in and out of the scene as though in search of something. He is often confused about where he is and whom he is with, referring to all five sisters by the name of Okawa, his Ugandan house boy. He also struggles to recall words in English, as he is accustomed to speaking Swahili.
Jack’s condition is a stark contrast to the image his family cultivated of him in their romantic imaginations. Michael references a photo of Jack in his army uniform from a period where he served as a military chaplain, remarking that he “was a hero to me…a hero and a saint to my mother and to my aunts” (8).
As Jack’s health improves, it becomes increasingly clear that he has abandoned much of his Catholic faith and adopted many of the Ugandan pagan beliefs, much to Kate’s chagrin. Rather than improving Kate’s reputation with the local parish—as she hopes—Jack’s paganism generates suspicion toward their family.
Gerry is Michael’s absentee father who turns up irregularly to declare his love for Christina. A Welsh roamer who works odd jobs—including dance-lesson instructor and gramophone salesman—Gerry thinks of Ireland as his adopted home. His interest in Christina seems genuine, and Michael notes that though his mother and father do not share a “conventional form of marriage” (42), their dancing serves as a kind of spiritual union that extends beyond spoken language. Gerry’s free spirit is diminished, however, when his legs are badly injured in the Spanish Civil War. The injury prohibits him from ever dancing again, and his connection to Christina dissolves.