Séamas O'Reilly: A joint Bloomsday-Italia 90 Bank Holiday is one the whole nation can get behind

"Telling my English friends about St Brigid's Day has certainly been instructive, since they’re so beaten down by the ensh*ttification of every aspect of life here, the idea of a new public holiday seems fizzily insane."

Séamas O'Reilly. Picture: Orfhlaith Whelan

I try not to compare the UK and Ireland too much because that way madness lies. Were I to compare the political upheavals in both places, I feel like the sheer naked insanity of British government malfeasance would distract me from the very real and present malfeasance in Ireland, a risk that becomes more pronounced when Irish topics trend on Twitter and I find I’ve been away too long to recognise any of the names or crimes being discussed.

But it’s true, things are tumultuous here. The UK is the only advanced economy on Earth seeing negative growth, where a cost-of-living crisis has doubled the price of many foods and tripled the price of heating, and a carousel of corruption and incompetence at the heart of government has rendered parliament about as noble and stately as one of those Hieronymus Bosch paintings where fellas are being eaten alive by demons while crows fly out of their arses. We’ve seen four chancellors in the past 12 months. One of whom, Nadhim Zahawi has just had to pay a penalty for non payment to the very same tax system he oversaw.

There are more overlapping scandals and shambles than I can safely repeat here, but the end result is that the current government are polling at 26% — in electoral terms, roughly the approval rating of orange creme chocolates, or unskippable YouTube ads — but cannot be voted out for another 18 months. Unless you have a harpoon in your chest, landing an appointment with your GP is like getting Glastonbury tickets, as it involves sticking yourself in a phone queue before the sun goes up, just for a slim chance of speaking to someone in the 10 minutes after 9am when all the appointments are doled out. Nine out of 10 dentists in the UK are no longer admitting new patients. 

Every teacher, doctor, nurse, barrister, postal and transport worker is either striking or planning it, since the pay and conditions for the people who actually keep the country running have plummeted, while the richest 1% of Britons now hoard as much wealth as the bottom 70% combined. The government’s only reaction thus far has been to moot fresh tax cuts and outlaw strikes.

In short, things are not good and getting worse. So, it was with a mixture of joy and envy that I contemplate Ireland’s new bank holiday. If you’re reading this in Ireland, you’re likely blowing up a beach ball in preparation, or casually chatting to your dentist and GP over a punnet of steamed oysters. Bank holidays don’t really mean much to me since I work from home. Irish bank holidays even less because, again, I live in London. But I am pleased at the thought that my compatriots will have one more day to enjoy to themselves, and/or complain about not utilising because they have a stupid job like mine where such holidays simply don’t apply.

Telling my English friends about it has certainly been instructive, since they’re so beaten down by the enshittification of every aspect of life here, the idea of a new public holiday seems fizzily insane. They can, at least, content themselves with a special one-off public holiday this May, when the poorest rich country on Earth will spend tens of millions of pounds throwing gold at its new king. Last week, one former Royal householder told Sky News that “King Charles’s coronation will emphasise the cost-of-living crisis”. Rarely has a statement been so true, but for reasons other than those intended. 

Named for St Brigid — the patron saint of bending rushes until they look like the old RTÉ logo — this is a pleasingly localised bit of branding for what might be more officially termed “EU-mandated bank holiday #10” but no less romantic for it. I only submit we continue on this trend and rename all the bank holidays with similarly stirring monikers. St Brigid’s is the first bank holiday named after a woman, and I think this trend should continue at least once more. I therefore submit that January 1 be renamed the Enya bank holiday, in honour of a similarly mythic figure from Irish folkloric tradition, who has her birthday on the 17th of that month. 

Just as St Brigid’s day is synonymous with Imbolc, October’s holiday should naturally be renamed Samhain, since it’s the Halloween bank holiday anyway and its intrinsic spookiness deserves to be codified into law. Similarly, the August bank holiday should be rebranded as Lúghnasa since it’s just too good a word not to use. We could even venerate the life and works of Brian Friel by instituting state-mandated dancing competitions for the occasion, and bring them into the 21st century by insisting every single Irish person broadcast their efforts on Tiktok, or else pay a fine that will be added to the budget surplus in the middle of a housing crisis.

Staying with literary titans, the June bank holiday might naturally seem smart to rename Bloomsday, which currently takes place 11 days later. I admit that a celebration of the day depicted in James Joyce’s Ulysses may seem a little too austere for those who are either not in Dublin, not avowed fans of modernist literature, or both, so I suggest we split this one up. I feel like a joint Bloomsday-Italia 90 bank holiday is one the whole nation can get behind, whether garbed in turn-of-the-century garments, or Opel-branded Irish kits. A good task it would be on that day, to cross Ireland without passing someone singing ‘Put ‘Em Under Pressure’.

Whatever we choose, 10 bank holidays are something to celebrate, and thoughts of my friends and family back home enjoying them will persist, whatever they’re called. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m hoping to speak to my GP next Monday so I’d better get queuing now.