Michael Moynihan: Taking a stand over plans for Michael Collins statue on Grand Parade
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News to hand: A new statue is on the cards for Cork, or at least on the drawing board. Literally.
Last week, you probably read Eoin English of this parish telling us that the first Michael Collins statue in Cork City is on its way: “The decision, announced on Thursday, follows a series of meetings between City Hall and members of the Michael Collins 100 committee over recent months following a decision by Cork City Council last year to proceed with the statue.
“The near life-size piece will feature Collins standing alongside a bicycle, based on the iconic photograph of him taken with a Pierce bicycle in Wexford in 1922 when he cycled around Dublin at a time when there was a bounty on his head.”
Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts.
First is the political symbolism of this statue, the loaded message it contains. Unravelling what a statue means is a field of study with a long history, after all. Some readers may be aware of the long-running belief that statues of conquerors on horseback to be seen around Europe conform to a subtle code.
Try it yourself the next time you’re on holiday: According to this code, if the horse of the general/king/commander thus commemorated has one hoof in the air, the person was wounded in battle, but may not have died as a result of those wounds. If two hooves are raised, the rider died in battle, but if the horse's hooves are all on the ground, then the rider survived unharmed.
Per the famous picture of Collins, the forthcoming statue will probably depict the West Cork native with both feet on the ground, but there’s one small issue. This horse-hoof code is demonstrably false.
There’s a far sharper political message involved in this proposed statue, however. Time was when this message would have been centred on the aftermath of the Civil War, and what it meant to have a commemoration of the leader of one side in that conflict commemorated in this fashion. However, that Civil War has been superseded by an altogether different civil war.
As in, what does it mean to have a statue of Michael Collins on a "bicycle"?
The ferocity of the combat between Cork’s cyclists and motorists now means that the city authorities will have to find somewhere to put a ‘near life-size’ replica of Collins in a car.
Perhaps they’ll recreate the scene outside the Imperial Hotel when Collins got into his — checks notes — Leyland Eight Touring Car before heading to West Cork on his last journey. If not, are the authorities signalling discreetly that they support more cycling and less motoring?
More thoughts.
The Grand Parade may be the ideal location for this statue on the grounds that the name of the thoroughfare in Irish is Sráid an Chapaill Bhuí, the Street of the Yellow Horse.
This makes no sense unless one knows that a statue of King George on horseback was unveiled there in July 1761 on Tuckey's Bridge, which connected Tuckey's Quay, now part of the Grand Parade, and George's St (now Oliver Plunkett St). The statue was painted a golden yellow colour in 1781, hence the Yellow Horse.
In 1798, it was moved from the centre of the Grand Parade to the junction of the South Mall and Grand Parade, but fell into disrepair, and for a time it had to be supported with crutches.
In March 1862, George came a cropper and the entire statue was removed, though there were interesting rumours about the whereabouts of the head of the statue for decades after it disappeared.
That’s on one hand — a main thoroughfare of the city with a long history of significant figures being commemorated with statues.
Go one step further — as Eoin pointed out in his piece: "In an email update to city councillors on Thursday, it was confirmed that a location on the Grand Parade, understood to be close to the city library, has been agreed.
“While another location on St Patrick’s St was in the running, the Grand Parade was chosen given its historic connection to Collins, who addressed a massive pro-Treaty rally on the wide thoroughfare on March 12, 1922, with estimates putting the size of the crowd at close to 50,000.”
Very sensible, but this begs a slightly awkward question.
Does every statue have to be put in the Grand Parade?
I take you back a few years to 2013, and yet another report from Eoin English (who will definitely be sharing the fee from this column): “Cork’s city manager has confirmed that engineers are close to identifying a suitable location in the city centre for privately funded statues of Munster and Ireland rugby legends Ronan O’Gara and Peter Stringer.
“Tim Lucey told councillors during last night’s meeting that work is advancing to find the right spot for the bronze statue depicting O’Gara and Stringer in action. It is designed to celebrate the spirit of Munster rugby in general.
“It is envisaged that the larger-than-life-size figures — mounted on granite plinths and standing between 16ft and 25ft apart — would show Stringer throwing a pass to O’Gara.”
And yes, you guessed it: “It is understood that a site on the Grand Parade has now emerged as a favoured location.”
I’m just glad we’re able to get down the Grand Parade at all. Between the statues which were there in the past, the statues proposed a while back, and the statues confirmed for the future, it’s a wonder anyone can get from McDonald’s to the library.
(My only regret that the O’Gara-Stringer statue didn’t come to pass is that while many would no doubt be celebrating their rugby prowess, I’d prefer to see it as Cork erecting a statue to celebrate an columnist. Look, we all have our foibles.)
Before I leave this topic, one last word of warning. Whenever a piece of public statuary appears in the capital, it is immediately given an alternative name by the supposed wits of Dublin. I lived myself in Dublin for many years and found the supposed wits in short supply: Nicknames like the Floozy in the Jacuzzi or the Stiletto in the Ghetto don’t strengthen the reputation for verbal invention. Maybe that’s just me.
In any event, surely some kind of cordon sanitaire can be erected around the new Collins statue to keep visitors from the capital away in case they crown it with an unwanted nickname.
(That said, we’ll all end up calling it Mike with the Bike.)
A very last thought. Well wear to the new statue and all who admire it. But with all due respect to the Big Fella, there’s only one statue in Cork, famed in song and bus timetable.
You know it and I know it. And it isn’t in the Grand Parade either.