Culture That Made Me: Claire Byrne includes Marian Finucane, Dallas, and ET among her touchstones
Claire Byrne presents a weekday show on Newstalk. Picture: Conor McCabe
Claire Byrne, 50, grew up on a farm outside Mountrath, Co Laois. She got her first job in television with TV3 in 1999, as news anchor on She joined Newstalk in 2006. In 2010, she left to join RTÉ, presenting various shows over a 15-year spell, including and on television, as well as the station’s flagship morning radio programme for several years. She recently rejoined Newstalk, where she presents weekdays from 9am – 12pm.
The first film I saw in the cinema was I was mesmerised – the vastness of the screen, the fact things I could not see in my real life were on this screen. There was this huge divide between reality and this fantastical film. I decided about a year ago that my children should see The NeverEnding Story. It was desperate. I felt so embarrassed that I had told them it was the greatest film. After about 10 minutes, my children kept looking back at me going, “What is this? When is it going to get better?” That film did not stand the test of time.
It might be fashionable to say it, but Jessie Buckley is fast becoming a hero of mine. I loved her in her singing voice is phenomenal, but her gorgeous Kerry accent, her authenticity, her clear bravery and anti-Hollywood vibe makes me want to cheer out loud.
We watched twice as a family. It’s as good now as it was when it came out in 1982. It's incredible – this story about what would happen if an extraterrestrial came to Earth; the dilemma of what to do about it; the government actors involved in the chase to hunt poor old E.T. down. It pulled at our heart strings. My heart still soars when I see that famous scene where Elliott is cycling through the sky with E.T. in his bicycle basket. As kids we cycled to school. Our bike was our chariot. What we would have done to have the bike wheels lift up off the ground and take us through to the sky. It was everybody's dream.
The recent production of Conor McPherson’s
was a treat. Coming from Co Laois, I felt like I was seeing characters who I grew up with – Brendan Gleeson’s character in the pub, the publican trying to keep everybody happy, but occasionally someone sickens him and he couldn't help but tell them. Things I would have witnessed so many times. Tom Vaughan-Lawler's character is the big shot, coming into the town with the fancy car, thinking anything that happens in the town is because of him, that he should be in charge. Every town in Ireland has these people. It’s the universality of it, the extraordinary writing, with some of our brightest stars in it as well. There’s a magic to it.
I was in the library’s adult books section way before I should have been. I like to think the lovely library lady was happy to turn a blind eye while I was exploring the limits of my young reading capacity. Stephen King was on my list. I still haven’t been able to square that circle – I don’t like horror in books or on screen but I was happy in my early teens to read and . Perhaps it was because he was in the zeitgeist at the time, and being the ultimate consumer, I went there.
Like everyone who grew up in Ireland in the ’80s, I was reared on and with a dollop of thrown in for good measure. Charlie Haughey and Garret Fitzgerald were our version of JR Ewing and Cliff Barnes, with Brian Farrell as referee. It sounds like a fever dream, but they were given equal weight in our house.
I remember, very clearly, getting my hands on Gay Byrne’s book written with the wonderful Deirdre Purcell. It was called
I devoured it. Years later, when I found myself working with Deirdre on
,
I was starstruck. As I was when I met Gay, but because they were both thoroughly decent people, they put me at ease. I valued having both in my life.
Marian Finucane also left me awestruck. She, and a small group of women in RTÉ, smashed through glass ceilings and brick walls, leaving a smoother path for my kind to walk on. When I was presenting the Saturday afternoon political discussion programme on RTÉ, I had to go on Marian’s show to tell her audience what was coming up. I was always a little terrified as she sat there looking at me over her glasses. It felt like she was challenging me to sell the show, to impress her, to impress the audience. But I always knew she supported me, there was a twinkle in her eye that Marian only gave you if she was on your side.
Katriona O’Sullivan’s should be prescribed reading for anyone involved in forming public policy. Katriona is an essential voice in Ireland – I’m a huge fan of her honesty and fearlessness. She’s someone who has lived the most challenging of human experiences. She posted a message the other day to online trolls saying if they abuse her or her followers they’ll be blocked and reported because she’s survived enough hurt in her life and no one gets to add to that. I whooped when I saw it – what a way to deal with those morons who get off on taking people down on the internet.
Patrick Ryan’s is a fictional story about the impact of war on people living through it – people in the United States coming back from the Second World War, how it affected their personal lives and their professional decisions, [bleeding] into the Vietnam War, a saga about two different families and how their lives interlinked. It's one of those books that you read where you cannot get it out of your head. It feels like a simple story, but the characters are so well drawn they stick with you. None of them are 100 percent sympathetic. They all have issues. It's a great read.
I treasure my time driving home from work when I switch off from the news agenda and escape into whatever audiobook I’m listening to. Listening to books has become an interesting experiment – the narrator is crucial, if I don’t like the voice, I can’t listen, regardless of how good the book is. On the other hand, I recently listened to Jessie Buckley reading a book called which I might not have chosen if it weren’t for her sonorous delivery.
I find music gigs overwhelming in a way. I don't have anxiety, but I find that whole shared experience too high octane. I did see Beyoncé in Croke Park. It was incredible. I don't know how the woman dances in the way she did for two hours. I enjoy concerts, but I won't seek them out. I'm not that person. I spent years at home in Laois trying to get permission to go to Féile. That was huge in the early ’90s. I was never allowed, and maybe that cured me – I became a person who doesn’t go to gigs very often.
