DU History Soc 2015/16

Committee Introductions Meet the misfits and miscreants heading your society!

Auditor

Treasurer

If DU History were sixteenth-century France, Caroline would still be the most powerful woman in it. Reclaiming the matriarchy after a year of tyrannical male rule, Caroline has spent the summer working tirelessly to orchestrate the activities of the society from her castle in Huntington Beach. Just like her gal Catherine, Caroline is sassy and ruthless, and mostly Italian, but unlike Madame de Medici, Caroline would never put up with a cheating husband or a factional committee. Will Caroline succeed in her efforts to unify DU History’s civil and religious conflicts, or will it all end in a St Bartholomew’s day Massacre? Stay tuned to find out!

Richard Neville is known for being a power-hungry aristocrat who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted, and died in his ongoing battle to get himself and his family closer and closer to the throne of England. His political acumen eventually earned him the title of ‘the Kingmaker’, and that’s exactly what Will is to DU History. Society members may think that Caroline became auditor by popular vote, but it was actually through intense political plotting and scheming on Will’s part, and she was anointed by the Kingmaker himself in a secret ceremony in the society room, while Modern Lang Soc were banging on the door. There’s only one difference between Will and Richard Neville - unlike the ill-fated Warwick, who was defeated by Edward IV at Barnet, Will will always come out on top.

Caroline Nicholson (as Catherine de Medici)

William Earle A’Hern Sch. (as Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick)

Secretary

Jemma O’Leary (as Nancy Mitford)

Nancy Mitford was the eldest of the infamous Mitford sisters, who dominated the London social scene back in the 1920s, much as Jemma dominates the Trinity Arts Block today. Two hopeless romantics underneath their scathing exteriors, Jemma and Nancy share among other things a ‘lifelong love affair’ with Paris, a passion for Evelyn Waugh and a propensity for falling in love with sexually ambiguous men. As the society’s secretary, Jemma is responsible for those elegantly written e-mails that pop up in your inbox every week, which she hopes will one day be collated into a book and made as famous as Nancy Mitford’s own personal correspondence.

PRO

Librarian

Robert Keenan (as Rudolf II, Holy Roman Emperor)

A pal of Edward Kelley’s, Rudolf too liked to dabble in the occult and the mysterious, favouring these hobbies over the rather boring business of ruling over his Empire.

Just like Rudolf, Rob is a melancholic figure who is either patronising the arts or asking Fin to help him contact the spirit world.

And now that his GF, DU History’s former second-most-stylish committee member, is off on Erasmus in Germany, Rob may become even more introspective and sad - just like Rudolf after his son became a murderer. We just hope that his personal life won’t interfere with his job as DU History’s Librarian, which is far, far more important than Holy Roman Emperor.

Social Secretary

Eoin McGrath (as Edward VIII)

Edward VIII is famous for his abdication he ditched the throne for love and then jetted off to live the ‘zotic life in the Bahamas with his bae Wallis Simpson. Similarly, when things are getting too much for Eoin, he likes to take the bus back home to Kilkenny and hang with his girl Samantha Mumba. Just like Eddie, Eoin prefers partying to facing up to his responsibilities, and flies in the face of convention with everything he does. However, as the only committee member reprising the same role this year, Eoin has already been Social Sec for longer than Edward VIII was ever King of England. What an achievement.

Finnán Tóibín (as Edward Kelley)

Kelley was a sixteenth-century occultist and spirit medium who worked with John Dee, Elizabeth I’s personal magician, and claimed to possess the actual real literal Philosopher’s Stone, which came in the form of a mysterious and altogether suspicious red powder. Just like Kelley, Fin claims prestigious Irish descent, when he is clearly 1000000% English, although the record remains silent on whether Kelley possessed Fin’s unfortunate ‘Birmingham G’. Fin is the PRO of the society, which involves promoting the society’s events, taking care of all our social media lolz, and communicating with angels in a language that only he can understand. Sweet, man.

Senior Sophister Rep.

Paul Cashell (as Henry VIII)

Henry VIII is probably the most infamous English king of all time. His exploits in eating and womanising have been the subject of many a bodice-ripper, and it’s a constant source of amazement to all at DU History that the BBC didn’t pick up Paul to star as Henry in the Wolf Hall adaptation.

This modern-day lothario always has a girl for each arm and a haunch of venison (or burrito) stowed away in his doublet. Henry VIII may have had six wives, but we reck-

on that our Paul can do one better.

Jack Dykstra-McCarthy (as William Pitt the Younger)

Much like his historical doppelgänger, Jack is passionate about English politics and one can only assume from his excellent breeding that he’s also on close terms with the monarch. Like Pitt, Jack regularly spends all night at his desk - he’s a 24hour library regular who loves kebabs.

When Will and Jemma saw Jack’s debating skillz for the first time at the ‘Doing History’ debate, they just knew he was going to make waves in DU History’s very own House of Commons (Room 9). Let’s just hope Jack loves DU History as much as Pitt loved his country.

Stephen Beamish (as Éamon de Valera)

Born in the USA but raised as Irish as can be, Beamish has a lot in common with one of Ireland’s most divisive figures. Famous for his controversial statements, brave fashion choices and his skill with the ukelele, Stephen certainly has no shortage of talents to recommend him to the DU History committee, although Dev would probably have opted for a more traditional Irish instrument. Although he’s a humble OCM for now, Stephen is expected to go on to occupy more offices than de Valera himself.

Junior Sophister Rep.

Kate Mulholland (as Madame de Pompadour)

A new addition to the DU History committee, Kate brings a touch of style, elegance and refinement to Room 9. Always well-dressed and perfectly groomed, Kate is known for throwing glamorous salons with Queen Caroline and her other ladies-in-waiting. Kate’s been on all the DU History trips, which means she’s nearly as well-travelled and cultured as Madame P, but word has it that this Belfast native was once spotted slumming it with a cheeky chicken filly being consumed outside the Arts Block.

Leon Kohl (as Albert Einstein)

Ordinary Committee Members

Garret Giblin (as James Connolly)

Senior Freshman Reps.

It’s hard to imagine a better historical match than Garret and his Republican idol, JC. Just like Connolly, Garret is a committed socialist, although his Belvedere education, enormous seafront home and near-constant American holidays contrast slightly with Connolly’s slum childhood. Just like Connolly and the Irish Volunteers, Garret sees DU History as too bourgeois and is only using us to achieve his own ends - what we all think is going to be a bit of light-hearted historical recreation will actually end with us taking over the GPO in Easter 2016.

German genius Leon is another new member of the DU History committee, who combines a logical mind with a passion for all things historical. He also loves science, making him just like old Albert - but despite the one fact that every sub-standard secondary school student loves to spout about Einstein, Leon has never failed an exam in his life - in fact, he’s the second scholar on the committee. (Watch out Will.) As one of Rob’s minions, Leon will be found in the DU History library for most of the year, where rumour has it he’ll be setting up his own Olympia Academy. Only the most advanced minds need apply.

Peter Malone (as Charles Baudelaire)

Peter is DU History’s most tortured soul.

His tumblr dedicated to his beautiful, misunderstood poetry and his pining after unrequited love only serve to confirm what we already know - if Baudelaire had lived in the noughties, he too would have sported a nose piercing. Peter’s flawless Topman style and oh-so-strokable hair make him into the quintessential twenty-first century dandy. Does he, like the nineteenth-century French poet, have ‘no profession other than elegance’?

Not quite, as he’s just spent the summer managing DU History’s social media accounts, becoming part of the modern world that Baudelaire was so afraid of.

WATCH THIS SPACE - TWO JUNIOR FRESHMAN REPS. WANTED!

We will be recruiting two Junior Freshman Reps. later this Michaelmas term. If you think that you’d be interested in getting involved in the running of one of Trinity’s best societies, make sure that your name is on our mailing list when you join up, and that you like our Facebook and follow our Twitter so as to keep up to date on how you will be able to get involved! To be eligible to run for these two positions, you have to be in first year, and have to be a student of Single Honours History, History & Politics or be reading History as part of a two subject moderatorship.

A Letter From the Auditor

That’s So Byzantine For many years now, secondary school teachers have repeated the same refrain: the Roman Empire fell in 476 AD. They were only half-correct. Literally. What really fell in 476 was the Western Roman Empire. Theodosius I (The guy who banned the Ancient Olympics for being too ‘pagan’ - I’d say he was great fun at toga parties) was the last emperor to rule over a united territory. In 395 he split the Empire between his two sons, setting up one as emperor in the West, and the other in the East. So what happened to the other half of the Roman Empire that survived? Well, that’s the story of the ‘Byzantine Empire’.

Basically, the Byzantine Empire is the Eastern half of the Roman Empire awkwardly left after the fall of Rome. In fact, while the West declined and fell, the East actually prospered during the 5th century, even going on to reconquer some old Roman territory - including Rome herself - in the 6th century. So why don’t we hear much about this ‘Byzantine Empire’? Why do most people have some sort of conception about Classical Rome in their heads (thanks to a very shouty Russell Crowe and several other borderline pornographic movies about the Romans - Spartacus: Blood on the Sand anyone?) but rarely know anything about a Roman Empire that survived the fall of Rome by nearly 1,000 years? Well, firstly the Byzantine Empire had a very misleading name. If you called someone who lived within the Empire a ‘Byzantine’ they most certainly wouldn’t know what the hell you were talking about. The ‘Byzantines’ called themselves Romans, or ‘Romaioi’ in Greek, and their emperors could boast an almost uninterrupted succession of imperial monarchs all the way down to Caesar Augustus. And they had every right to claim Roman ancestry - the Byzantine Empire was effectively the political continuation of the Eastern Roman Empire.

The official title of state was ‘Emperor of the Romans’. So the Byzantines were quite serious about their Roman heritage!

Historians haven’t been kind to the Byzantine Empire either. Both Gibbons (author of ‘Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire’) and Lecky (Yes, that balding man that the library is named after) had quite negative views on this civilisation, and are both responsible for pouring cold water on Byzantium’s bonfire. Lecky: the history of the empire is a monotonous story of the intrigues of priests, eunuchs and women.

I have the feeling Lecky wouldn’t have enjoyed Game of Thrones. Also, medieval western historians often felt intimidated

by Byzantium’s power and labelled them ‘Greeks’ or the ‘Empire of the Greeks’, denying them their Roman roots. If you look

up ‘byzantine’ in the dictionary, it will probably read ‘excessively complicated’ or ‘devious’. Ouch. Thanks for that, Lecky…

So what did the Byzantine Empire ever do for me?’ is probably what you’re thinking. Well, from introducing the fork to the musical organ, Byzantium certainly didn’t lack any of its precursor’s ingenuity. Modern legal codes are based off of the Byzantine codification of law by Justinian, the ‘Codex Justinianus’. As if that wasn’t enough, were it not for the Byzantine Empire, Europe would probably be an Islamic continent. In the 7th-8th centuries the Empire sheltered the still-developing barbarian kingdoms in the west from the Arabic invasions which rocked the Mediterranean. Had the capital, Constantinople, fallen to the Arabs, they would have had no trouble subduing the weak European states, having been bolstered by the wealth and facilities of Christendom’s largest metropolis. However, the Byzantines stood strong, and were even able to push the Arabs back in the 9-10th centuries.

Byzantium also played an important part in protecting ancient works of literature and art. When Constantinople finally fell to the Ottomans in 1453 (spoiler alert!) many Byzantine scholars fled to Italy with their manuscripts and artwork, inspiring a renewed interest in the classical world (hello the Renaissance!). And for any Russians reading, you can thank St. Cyril for developing an early form of the Cyrillic Alphabet, which the Russian language uses today. Ever wondered why Russia, Greece and the Balkans have a different form of Christianity to Catholicism and Protestantism? Thank the Byzantines!

(Well actually thank the Papacy; they sort of kicked the Orthodox Christians out…)

Notwithstanding the blatant hating on such a diverse and interesting Empire, I believe attitudes are slowly changing.

The Byzantine Empire left a huge impact on world history, and it’s time that it was brought into the mainstream of history (sorry Byzantine hipsters!) Next time someone describes something as ‘byzantine’, realise that it really should be used as a compliment!

Cian Cooney, SF European Studies

The 82nd Session in Review The Wall

While the culmination of of DU History’s event calendar is of course the celebration the long-awaited Apollo Ball, its Michaelmas Term highlight was, for many, The Wall. Held during the week of the 25th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall and ostensibly a commemoration of the event, The Wall quickly became one of the most hotly anticipated nights of the Trinity calendar. As tickets in the form of East German visas were quickly printed and sold to lines of eager, would-be GDR citizens, many were delighted to discover pictures of that forgotten hero of the reunification, David Hasselhoff, found to be rightfully immortalised on their border passes.

The 18th of November hurriedly approached and suddenly one could smell the hairspray in the air as Dublin’s hairdressers encountered the largest influx of customers ordering perms, crimps and jheri curls since the release of Madonna’s Material Girl. Parents’ wardrobes were raided and Penneys staff were maimed in an effort to create the perfect luminous coupling of scrunchie and co-ordinating leg warmers, while Netflix junkies bingewatched entire seasons of Miami Vice and Magnum P.I. As hundreds of Trinity students became gripped by “borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered 80s”, the doors of the Twisted Pepper burst open and the border guards were impotent against the rushing masses longing to be reunited, not only with their long-lost friends and family members on the other side of the Wall, but with the warm embrace of Acid House and German Techno.

The reverie only deepened as whispers began in the queues outside of the appearance of a special guest. None other than The Hoff himself was to be found waiting serenely just inside the doors, only too happy to greet and be photographed with every lucky Janet Jackson and Bret “The Hitman” Hart lookalike. Such was Mr. Hasselhoff ’s enduring good nature that his smile visibly retained its look of genuine pleasure in the same way his hair retained its pristine curls while he patiently waded through guests in the foyer for the entire night.

But of course the night had to continue, and as Baywatch rerun addicts were torn away from The Hoff by succeeding streams of their peers the dancefloor filled with scenes from Footloose while the nihilistic emulators and admirers of the underground East German punk scene ascended to the smoking area. The music proceeded and soon one began to see the cracks in the wall that separated the DJs from the masses below. Like the insidious influence of the free market of West Germany seeping through into the controlled

economy of the East, 80s pop tunes began to pervade the harsh and demanding techno beats. Suddenly the opening bars of Nena’s seminal outcry against the warmongering of nations, “99 Luftballons”, reverberated throughout The Twisted Pepper. As astounded by the glory of the bass-line as they were by sight of towering figures on stage, the crowd watched in ecstasy as DU History’s committee members released Nena’s enduring symbol of hope, and 99 red balloons were unleashed, destroying The Wall in the process. The crowd descended into the engrossing delight of the music as the sounds of Luther Vandross were followed by Marvin Gaye’s Sexual Healing, ensuring that the reunion of Germany found further symbolism in the scores of young communist and capitalist couples who discovered through The Power of Love how similar they were after all. As the night ended and the lights came up and revealed the newfound sense of community and love sprawled across the benches and tables, many found solace in the new world which they had helped create. While a renegade band of Irish Republicans paraded through Dublin to the GPO under the banner of Helmut Kohl, the great German unifier, and proceeded to pledge their allegiance to a united Ireland, most fell away fondly to the quiet sounds of On Raglan Road.

To their beds and bunkers these witnesses to history proceeded, whispering of the night’s joys and guaranteeing the immortality of that all-important and enduring question: “Where were you when it fell?

Robert Keenan

lisbon

During February Reading Week, as in every February Reading Week of years gone by, DU History set sail on another European voyage. Our infamous trips abroad have quickly become the highlight of the society’s social calendar - it’s hard to believe how much cultural and historical knowledge we manage to force down people’s throats when not indulging in uninhibited dancing to Europop. This year the Irish winter got too much for us and we decided to opt for blue skies and warmer climes, voting unanimously for Lisbon.

After the classic 6 AM flight and frustrated committee’s efforts to negotiate the local public transport system, we arrived at the YES! hostel, which has deservedly been voted the BEST hostel in all of Europe. Twice. All you need to know is it has waterfall showers. The sun was shining and we just knew that the whole trip was going to go without a hitch, just like all of DU History’s excursions (insert disclaimer here).

After checking in at YES, it was off on our walking tour with surfer dude Paolo - it was love at first sight for many society members, until we found out he had a girlfriend through some unwarrantedly creepy Facebook stalking. After tramping up and down the hills of Lisbon for what seemed like forever, marvelling at the Praca de Comercio and the Castelo de la Sao Jorge, we decided we’d soaked up enough cultural sights and headed back to the hostel for dinner, with plans to party with Paolo later. After a dinner that most certainly did not feel to be of what one would expect to be hostel quality we headed out to a party held in the basement of a gift shop, at Paolo’s invitation. As you do.

Some local Berliners showing the Hoff around their hometown (photo credit Carla de Brun)

The next day began with a trip to Lisbon’s decorative arts museum, which was nowhere near as exciting as the aquarium we visited in the afternoon. The memory of the hand-holding sea otters will live in our hearts forever and DU History’s ex-treasurer Fin, a closet merman, was delighted to be back in his natural habitat. That night, Maurice presided over a committee dinner of ten ‘traditional’ Portuguese dishes, one of which looked suspiciously like a 3-in-1. Then, after Lisbon had been treated to a new style of music to rival its traditional fado singing - in the form of Vinny serenading the city with Kendrick Lamar from the upstairs windows of the hostel - we headed off to explore Lisbon by night. Dance moves were busted, romances were kindled and rekindled and the crème de la crème of Lisbon’s nightclubs were subjected to the musical delights of DU History’s wannabe DJs, who took over the decks with all the force of Francisco Pizarro’s invading army.

The final day was the big event of every DU History trip - Jemma’s birthday. After everyone had showered the Birthday Princess with gifts and kisses and the President of Portugal had declared the 24th of February a national holiday, we headed to Lisbon’s famous flea market, where we had the option of stocking up on vintage erotica or, if so inclined, run-down washing machines. By our third day we were understandbly weary and this resulted in some rather questionable fashion choices, but we still summoned the energy to make the excursion out to Belem Tower, a famous fortress that served as a ceremonial entrance to Lisbon during the Age of Explorations. However, as we all know, history and drizzle don’t mix, so we headed back to the city for a birthday dinner this time forgoing the local cuisine for the more hegemonic Western dish of pizza.

A final night of partying ensued, with some braver members of the society choosing to pull an all-nighter, making it to the 10am departing flight running on nothing but adrenaline and the YES Hostel’s delicious cheese toasties. All in all, another rip-roaringly successful trip from DU History. Stay tuned to our Facebook and Twitter pages to be the first to know where we’re off to this year!

The funniest thing is that they posed themselves like this - great socks though, Conor (photo credit Tomasz Szykulski)

Apollo Ball

The Apollo Ball has become an event eagerly anticipated by all here at Trinity, from those who appreciate the nuances of the wacky historical spin to those who just want to really get down and party like it’s 1899. Last year’s festivities took place at the end of March, the heart of ball season, leaving behind the familiar surroundings of the Grand Canal for the altogether grander setting of City Hall. Under the theme of “Return of the Absentee Landlords”, our group of students keen to dance the night away in period formal wear gathered at the steps of City Hall. Here they were greeted with a private viewing of one of Dublin’s hidden gems. While some serious historians took in with critical eyes the arguably questionable attire adorning the statues of Daniel O’Connell and the lads, others took the opportunity to get the perfect Facebook cover photo to really push the “I go to Trinity now” stereotype to everyone back at home. Those truly committed to the theme donned top hats and tails and bragged loudly about recent evictions, while others dusted off the trusty debs suit and hoped for the best.

In keeping with the opulence of the occasion, a string quartet set the mood for DU History’s grandest affair yet.

After wolfing down some grub our group of historical delinquents were cast out by the rather nervous city hall workers in search of the familiar surroundings of the Twisted Pepper. The evening descended from a rather dignified affair into a jungle of techno beats and loosening bow ties. It’s even rumoured that Kanye played a special bathroom set in the men’s downstairs loo, so it was kind of a big deal. Tunes rolled on until the small hours, much to the joy of the rag-tag group of hardcore historians left standing. As the night drew to a close and as taxis were hailo’d, the bass beats of the music were slowly replaced by contented conversations pouring out on to Abbey Street - Supermacs was soon mobbed by the most impressivley attired customers it had seen since the Dandy days of Dublin’s Georgian era. So there it is; a review of a ball unlike any other. The best night of your college careers awaits.

Five stars.

Peter Malone

Jemma O’Leary

The boys and the belles beneath the Torre de Belém (photo credit Anna Dawson)

Balloons over Berlin (photo credit Carla de Brun)

THE DANGERS OF ALCOHOL a warning from Calum Platts SS History

Magazine Credits: Editor - Jemma O’Leary Creative Director - Finnán Tóibín Articles and photos as credited

As a student, it’s pretty much guaranteed that at the start of the university year you will receive multiple warnings about alcohol, ranging from cautionary tales concerning consumption from your parents, to guidelines on how to stay safe on a night out from the Students’ Union. It is not the intention of this article to continue the theme of the threat of excessive alcohol consumption to your personal health, so breathe a sigh of relief. However, there have been occasions in the past when alcohol has formed an integral part of history. These range from the fairly important debate as to whether the brewing of beer was the reason why humans began to develop farming, to the more anecdotal nature of references to George, Duke of Clarence, facing the death penalty in 1478 by being drowned in a vat of Malmsey wine.

Indeed, alcoholic beverages can form an integral part of the cultural heritage of certain areas arguably none more so than the national pride of the French in their wine-producing regions. The pinnacle of this is the link between the town of Champagne and the production of those fine French sparkling wines that are accorded the name ‘Champagne,’ deemed to be the first ever invented. The importance of this drink and its association with the French can be beautifully demonstrated by Winston Churchill’s words of encouragement to British troops fighting in the First World War: “Remember, gentlemen, it’s not just France we’re fighting for, it’s Champagne.”

However, the ‘Frenchness’ of sparkling wine and so the significance of Champagne is very much in doubt. There is plenty of evidence to show that Dom Pérignon, sparkling wine’s alleged inventor, spent his life trying to prevent the second fermentation that creates sparkling wine. The great quotation attributed to Dom Pérignon, calling to his brethren, “Come quickly!

I am drinking the stars!” has been

shown to be apocryphal, dating to no earlier than the nineteenth century. This is where we get back into the dangers of alcohol, albeit in the slightly more abstract form of national pride and the risks thereof of insulting it. It was not the French, but rather the English, who deliberately created sparkling wine. In the mid-seventeenth century the English began to produce stronger glass bottle, which could contain the increased pressure caused by a second fermentation.

As a result, while second fermentations had been naturally occurring since antiquity, it was the English who could deliberately induce one and indeed were doing so, as writings by Christopher Merret reveal. England, therefore, rather than France, is the home of sparkling wine. This, needless to say, is tantamount to heresy in certain parts of France and so you could get yourself into some serious difficulties by ever bringing it up (consider the fact that Oz Clarke, a renowned wine taster, was banned from Champagne for criticising its quality).

The history of sparkling wine production and Dom Pérignon has another dangerous element to it.

French glass in the seventeenth century was, as suggested, too weak to contain the pressures of the second fermentation. As a result, bottles in the cellar of Dom Pérignon’s abbey exploded fairly routinely. This was such a serious threat to the health of the monks working down there that they were forced to protect themselves by wearing armour.

Alcohol has woven its way throughout human history, and its dangers are certainly far more varied than one might imagine. So if you must drink this Freshers’ Week, let history be a lesson to you, and please do so safely and sensibly!