Michelle Mallon (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), Orla McCool (Louisa Clare Harland), Erin Quinn (Saoirse Monica Jackson), Clare Devlin (Nicola Coughlan), and James Maguire (Dylan Llewellyn)
I teach a module about Northern Irish literature called Alternative Ulster, which covers all the texts you would expect, from the poetry of Seamus Heaney, Medbh McGuckian and Ciaran Carson and the fiction of Bernard MacLaverty through to newer writing such as Paul Maddern’s anthology Queering the Green and the short fiction of Lucy Caldwell. But in the last few years – initially just as a treat at the end of the course – we also started talking about Derry Girls.
It soon became clear that this was the most powerful way to discuss the ideas I had wanted to convey all semester. My students are from a range of backgrounds, but Derry Girls is an absolute hit for all of them. Especially at a time where British-Irish relations are at the forefront of the news agenda, it allows us to talk about some other important things: joy, resilience, 90s music and how Manchester is actually a bit like Derry.
The show’s final episode has aired, but it will remain a cultural touchstone in my life: a gif of Sister Michael rolling her eyes is among my most-used; a recent wardrobe crisis prompted a friend to send me a photo of those three men in identical baby-blue Dunnes suits; another sent me a congratulations card featuring Michelle and one of her characteristically explicit exclamations.
I grew up in Portadown, Co Armagh. I am a few years younger than the girls, but identify heavily with their adolescence played out alongside the peace process or, as Erin says, “It’s about the Troubles in a political sense, but also about my own Troubles in a personal sense.”
”) The programme is the perfect balance of broad, universal humour and just enough specific references for those of us raised eating Tayto crisps and sitting on sticky disco floors as ‘Rock the Boat’ played. Lees verder