Dancing at Lughnasa

When I cast my mind back

to that summer of 1936...

different kinds of memories

offer themselves to me.

We got our first wireless set

that summer.

Well, a sort of a set.

And it obsessed us.

We called it "Lugh" after

the old pagan god of the harvest.

His festival was Lughnasa,

a time of music and dance.

Then my mother's brother,

my Uncle Jack...

came home from Africa for

the first time in 25 years.

He was the oldest of the family,

and the only boy.

That was my mother.

She was the baby

of the family.

I'm gonna throw

this old cracked thing out.

You are not.

I broke it.

The only way to avoid seven years'

bad luck is to keep usin' it.

You know, I think I might

just start to wear lipstick.

Steady on there. Today, it's lipstick.

Tomorrow it's the gin bottle.

Oh, dear, a wild Woodbine.

It's better than any man.

Not that I'd know.

Better not let Kate

hear that kind of chat.

If Aunt Maggie smoked

and took life lightly...

Aunt Kate did not.

She was a schoolteacher,

and a strict one.

- What are you doing up there?

- I'm putting the finishing touches on.

- You should've done that yesterday.

- I want it to look nice for Jack.

Get yourself ready. Do you want

the whole place laughing at us?

- I've only to put on a skirt.

- Do so, please.

And do something with your hair

as well. Where's Rose?

Feeding the chickens.

I suppose she looks like

a mad woman as well.

My mother used to whisper,

"Agnes is deep. "

She says little.

That's Aunt Rose.

Rose was a bit slow.

Simple. "

That's the word we used.

Mussolini will be there

with his airplanes in the air

Will you come to Abyssinia

Will you come

Mussolini is many miles away.

Father Jack, your only brother,

will be in Ballybeg in one hour.

Would you please

make yourself presentable?

Don't mind her.

She's only an old gander.

Gander!

And so we set out

to meet my Uncle Jack.

Little did I know it...

child as I was...

that this was the beginning

of things changing.

Changing so quickly.

Too quickly.

- Excited?

- I am, Mammy.

Come on.

Good day, Miss Mundy.

Well, Miss Mundy.

Big day for youse all.

Father Jack,

back at long last.

It is indeed.

Thank you very much.

Something for youse all

to be proud of.

All that time amongst the lepers.

The man's a saint.

Thank you. Bus'll be in soon.

If you'll excuse us.

Give him our best wishes.

Give him your arse

and say it's parsley.

That's enough, Margaret,

thank you very much.

- Look, it's Danny Bradley.

- Hold your tongue.

Will I run over to say hello?

You'll stay right here

beside me.

He's a scut.

With three children.

The whole town knows it.

You're a fine one to talk,

Christina Mundy.

You're jealous!

That's what's wrong with

the whole lot of youse!

- You're jealous of me!

- Just try to control yourself, please.

His wife left him.

She did the runner.

She may have had her reasons.

It's coming!

The bus, it's coming!

Oh, Jack.

Oh, thank God, Jack.

Ballybeg. Ten minutes.

Father.

- Is this...

- Ballybeg.

- Is this the name of where...

- It's where you come from.

- Am I home?

- You're home, Jack.

Mother is dead.

She's not here.

She's dead.

Come on.

Come and say hello to Maggie.

- Maggie.

- He's an old man, Mammy.

Come on, Michael.

Stop it, Aunt Maggie.

His sisters loved Jack

with all their hearts...

sending what pennies they had

to him in Africa.

Rose and Agnes knitting gloves

for a living.

All the women trying

to keep house and home together.

A miracle.

That's no miracle.

It is science.

It's not science.

It's the god of Lughnasa.

Pagan nonsense celebrating

the feast of Lughnasa.

This is the month of August, the feast

of Our Lady's Assumption Into Heaven.

A goddess, rising through

the sky and the stars...

in search for her dear son.

Where is Michael's father?

He's not here.

They're not married.

So Michael is a love child.

A son conceived in love.

I'm glad you have a child

conceived in love.

He's not mine.

He's Christina's.

- He's mine.

- All of you.

You all love him.

He belongs to all of you.

Michael, go outside and play.

Danny Bradley

wants to marry me.

He wants to take me up to

the back hills one day to Lough Anna.

Will you marry us?

Danny Bradley can't marry you.

He's married already.

You know that.

But he loves me, and I love him.

- And his wife's left him.

- That's not our business.

You must be tired.

Have a wee sleep before you eat.

- It'll build up an appetite.

- In Africa, we sleep and dream.

- In the dream, we sacrifice to the gods.

- This is not Africa.

This is Ballybeg.

Your home.

This is Donegal.

This is Ireland.

Another miracle.

It is not a miracle.

It is science.

It's music.

Dance with me, Mother.

No... Look, turn that off.

I'll do it myself.

I am not your mother.

I am Kate, your eldest sister, and

you're going to bed for a short while.

The only miracles

are those God ordains.

And you are an ordained priest.

You do not dance.

Maggie, see Jack to his rest,

if you please.

My rest, yeah.

Many women in Africa have love children.

And they are loved.

- As they are here.

- Yes, as they are here.

I didn't mean to upset you.

I would like you all

to have a love child.

His Holiness, the Pope, would have

something to say against that.

Yes, he would.

But he's never lived in Africa.

I'll put you to your bed.

You need the rest.

If His Holiness, the Pope,

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