Memories are made of this — or maybe not

WHERE else on radio could you expect to hear a quiz based on the latest 850-page volume of the Royal Irish Academy’s Documents On Irish Foreign Policy: 1951-57 except on Bowman: Sunday: 8.30?

Of course, this being RTE Radio 1, “there’s no competition, no prizes, (it’s) just for your own interest and enjoyment”.

Well, those big salaries won’t pay for themselves, you know.

Most of the show was devoted to a celebration of actor John Hurt, who died recently at the age of 77 and whose “next and final film”, presenter John Bowman said, “has already been filmed”. One would sincerely hope so, all things considered.

Hurt was typically witty and insightful, recalling a famous director’s displeasure when the actor dared to approve the answer once given by Edith Evans when asked “how” she got into character. “I just pretend,” she said disarmingly. The clips came from an interview with Myles Dungan on the now defunct daily arts show, RattlebagN , igwehlli a ch Lauwsseo d n tHoicgioenodu a t earfctiearm Liveline, if memdoers y trsuemrvres m. in est, il modia

But did it? Dquunagtau n ra ius t nfou w gitparetusernntek r klof The History Show. Last Sunday, he discussed the unreliability of memory with Trinity psychology professor Shane O’Mara, who explained: “Our memories are not designed to give us an accurate representation of the past” but “to serve what we need to know in the present.”

Obviously that presents problems for academics analysing the historical record. “So the first thing you do,” Dungan asked one historian, “is look for an agenda?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” he agreed. That’s not bad advice for life in general.

Less convincing was the psychologist’s explanation of “rosy memory” syndrome, whereby we supposedly remember the good stuff and discount the bad. What, even Irish people? We’re the opposite, surely?

There was certainly some of that on The Ryan Tubridy Show earlier this week, as listeners responded to Monday’s guest Amy Molloy’s admission that she suffers from guilt at having left her childhood home in Co Wexford for the bright lights of Dublin.

Most were much less guilty, recalling only the stifling small-mindedness and sense of being constantly under scrutiny in the countryside; but the show only scratched the surface of the subject really. There was plenty of scope for more stories, but then that often feels the way on national radio, where rural issues are given token coverage, before atteWntaiotc n h sIw T itNcOheWs back to another political rowHia n rdt y he Buccakps iit s aol.n the RTE Player until SDpeecaekminb g er o3 f 0w; rhtiec.ihe./.p. layer ASs ix ENnadtiaonKseRnung y by co is m on es 3P to layth er e uenntidl of hD is eclemadbers1h6i;pt,vN3.ieew/psltaaylekr’s Jonathan HeaS ly imopflf y eNreig d el a la fius n on guBiBd C e iP to layth er e - hciusrtroern y tlyofnot leadaevrasilhaib p lehtoeavvi ews eorn si W nI erdelnaensdd. ay’s The Pat Kenny Show, recalling the downfalls of Haughey and Thatcher before getting to the real “world champions” at this game – the Australians, with the country’s first female Prime Minister, Julia Gillard, despatching her Labour predecessor, Kevin Rudd, before he did exactly the same thing right back to her a few years later. Aussie politics may be rough, but it can never be called boring. LISTEN BACK Visit the RTE Player at rte.ie/player