Do you remember Froggy?

I am now 50 years out of Coláiste Mhuire this year. At a commemorative lunch the other day, one of my classmates asked "Do you remember Froggy?"

Do I remember Froggy? Of course I do. He was my first French teacher, and a very good one. Not exactly a compliment to a militant Fleming, but there you are. You can't have it all.

I did a post on this blog in his defence this month 6 years ago. I was incensed at the time at how Cathal O'Shannon (now RIP, but a journalist whom I once admired) and Senan Moloney (who had an agreement with Froggy in 1987, which he presumably considered expired on Froggy's death, heedless of the man's reputation, or the feelings or economic fortunes of his widow) both went for the man in an RTÉ series on Hidden Nazis.

Fortunately, his widow, who was made of stern stuff, took the matter to court and secured limited implementation of the 1987 agreement. Meanwhile, RTÉ cut from the transmitted programme a reconstruction of a Nazi interrogation in which Folens was portrayed in the part of interpreter.

If you are curious you can read my original post, but for now I just want to recall him as a teacher.

He taught French by the direct method (mainly). This may have been because he was in an Irish language school and didn't have much, if any, Irish. I suspect he would have used this method even in an English speaking school.

He operated an incentive system. Laxity or indiscipline in class earned you an X. Three Xs and you were sent down to the Head. An exceptionally good performance in class earned you a circle. This allowed you to skip homework on a night of your choice.

There was a period of weeks when less than half the class turned up in school. I think there was some flu epidemic or suchlike sweeping the land at the time. Folens put the curriculum on pause and regaled us with stories, tonguetwisters and songs, all in French. I thought this very enlightened at the time. Those who were absent through no fault of their own did not miss out on the course and those of us who were lucky enough to turn up got a bonus. Il était un petit navire. Le riz tenta le rat, le rat tenté tâta le riz tentant.

As I mentioned in the earlier post, his "cog notes" could be seen as first class, depending on your view of the objectives of the education system. I certainly found them great. They were Roneod and were the germ that subsequently grew into a first class publishing company. They were followed by modest volumes on the newer subjects, like civics, for which no textbooks were available, and, eventually, by the full range of high quality textbooks.

Anyway, I thought he deserved a mention, more than 50 years on.

New Head

I was passing Fairview Park some time ago when I saw a man with no head. A statue in the park had been decapitated, or had it just fallen off? I decided to investigate.


The remaining body belonged to Seán Russell, a controversial figure in early 20th century Ireland. Surely one of the most hardline republicans of his age. He fought in the war of independence and the civil war and became chief of staff of the IRA in the 1930s, initiated the UK bombing campaign at that time, collaborated with Nazi Germany, and died in a Nazi submarine while on a subersive mission to Ireland with Frank Ryan, in 1940.


I was staggered. This guy was definitely not on my school history curriculum.

The statue was erected in 1951, in Fairview Park, near to where Russell was born. Mary Lou McDonald, Euro MEP and the quintessence of Sinn Féin sex-appeal, spoke at the monument in 2003. The following year, the statue was decapitated by an alleged anti-fascist group, and, for the following four years, it led a headless existence.

The National Graves Association had vowed to replace the statue with a harder-to-decapitate bronze version. And there the matter rested.

I was passing Fairview Park the other day and, lo and behold, I noticed the return of the head.


True to their word, the Association had replaced not only the head but the whole body as well, and in the promised anti-fascist-resistant bronze.

The jacket has been replaced by a long-coat and the copy of An Phoblacht (which surely it must have been) has been replaced by an irregular hat. I can't comment on the facial expression as I never saw the original.

This version of the statue is, however, reminiscent of that of Thomas Davis in College Green. Stubbornly clunky and aesthetically way ahead of its predecessor.


You can read a potted version of Seán Russell's life here. The Wiki version is now out of date, so, if there is anyone out there with experience of updating Wiki, they might do so on the basis of this post.

Click on any of the images above for larger versions.


Update 5/1/2011

Special Branch Report of the inauguration of the original statue. From site of Official Sinn Féin and brought to my attention by that fantastic Dublin blog Come Here to Me.