The Luck of the Irish (And Other Insults)
St. Patrick's Day is nearly here, which means green beer, questionable fashion choices, and people cheerfully chatting about The Luck of the Irish.
But here's the thing: that phrase started here in the US, and it wasn’t a compliment.
I went down a research rabbit hole (as one does when one is supposed to be editing a novel) and discovered that "the luck of the Irish" was originally kind of a dig. One theory links it to the catastrophic potato famine, and implied the Irish have no luck at all. Another links it to Irish immigrants striking gold during the California Gold Rush, it’s use wasn’t in admiration. It was more: those people aren't smart enough to have earned their success, so it must be luck.
Either way, it would make a lousy toast.
What stuck with me, though, wasn't the history lesson. It was how often we use "luck" to explain away things that actually required enormous effort. The Irish immigrants who found gold? They were doing backbreaking work in brutal conditions. The fact that some of them succeeded wasn't an accident, it was through hard labor.
I think about this as a writer, usually when I should be writing. People sometimes talk about getting a book published like it's a lightning strike. The right manuscript lands on the right desk at the right moment, and suddenly you're an author. And sure, timing matters. But nobody talks about the years of early mornings, the drafts that went nowhere, or the spouse who has to read your work over and over again trying to determine which punctuation mark or word has changed from the last thirty times he’s read the same scene (Thank you, HRFP, your service is noted).
Shel Silverstein wrote a poem called "Magic" that ends with a line I love. In the poem the speaker says that all the magic they've ever known, they had to make themselves. I think about that a lot. Luck is a nice story we tell about other people's effort.
So this St. Patrick's Day, by all means wear the green. Raise a glass. But if someone wishes you the luck of the Irish, maybe take it the way I will now think of it: people who look lucky are usually the ones who worked the hardest.
Sláinte.
Magic
Sandra's seen a leprechaun,
Eddie touched a troll, Laurie danced with witches once,
Charlie found some goblins' gold.
Donald heard a mermaid sing,
Susy spied an elf, But all the magic I have known
I've had to make myself.
-Shel Silverstein
