The first and most effective way of discovering the lived realities of child mistreatment and abuse has been through storytelling, and although it could be argued that narrative may be considered a solution to a problem of general human concern - namely the problem of translating knowing into telling - it becomes a problem when we wish to give real events the form of story. It is precisely because real events do not offer themselves as stories that their translation into narrative is so difficult. (Whyte 1987:4) When a story is told through official reports or through the medium of newspapers there is an obvious deficit of information in relation to background details. The relationship between reality and representation depends to a large extent on authorship, narrative form and audience.
The question of audience is a major consideration for any author, both in practical terms, (encompassing the issues of marketing, publishing, ethics etc.), and in terms of imagining the actual reading event, that is, the physical encounter between text and a range of possible readers. (Smyth 1997:44) Whereas writers of fiction invent everything in their narratives, characters, events, plots, atmosphere, themes and so on, biographers invent nothing but certain flourishes or stylistic effects to the end of engaging their readers' attention and sustaining their interest in the true story they have to tell.
Regarding the structure of narratives, Roland Barthes says: "all classes, all human cultural groups, have their narratives, enjoyment of which is very often shared by men with different, even opposing, backgrounds. Caring nothing for the division between good and bad literature, narrative is international, transhistorical, transcultural: it is simply there, like life itself." (McQuillan 2000:109)
But is narrative an adequate tool to deal with the anguish of a child? Francie's cry for help often goes unnoticed. His poignant description of how he felt when he got home "from the dance", having picked a fight with the local lads: "It'd be nearly bright by the time I got home and there was no sense in going to sleep so I'd just sit there with da thinking about things one thing I thought was dumb people must have black holes in their stomachs from not being able to cry out" (McCabe 1993:139). This is a subtle betrayal of his anguished state of mind and his inability to make contact with anyone who could help him. There is, indeed, an extraordinary amount of pain at the core of the book, and this is made most clear when Francie glosses over it, when he laughs when he should be crying. Francie's inner world is a central concern of the book, and the frenetic monologue allows the reader no escape from the boy's unhinged mind. It is interesting to note that the central role of Francie's voice privileges the individual psychology of the disturbed mind above the socio-cultural context that produced it. However, despite his psychosis, which is to a large extent the product of the narrow Catholic society into which he was born, his voice generates sympathy, and therefore implicates the reader in the ensuing tragedy in profoundly interesting ways. (McLoone 2000.:216)
The God Squad is not only a sociological commentary on the mistreatment of children "in care", it is an historical narrative which exposes a world both church and state concealed for too long. Insofar as the notion of history indicates a generally human past, it is evident that one can produce an imaginary discourse about real events that may not be less "true" for being imaginary. To a certain extent it depends on how one construes the function of the faculty of imagination in human nature. (Whyte 1987:57) The authenticity of Paddy Doyle's story is not suspect because of his narrative representations of reality; his account of his childhood is vivid and finds an echo in the many case histories investigated by Mary Raftery and Eoin O'Sullivan in Suffer the Little Children. Every writer invents his own technique in an attempt to bridge the unfathomable gap between the printed word and the lived experience. Paddy Doyle's perspective is clearly rooted in reality; writing as an adult he makes no attempt to pass judgment on the people who ill-treated him within a system condoned and paid for by the state. The significance of the story is its description of a child unprotected from the adult world, powerless to negotiate against the institution, be it religious or medical. Doyle survived it because of his amazing strength, and because along the way a few kind individuals made some small effort to treat him as a human being and a child.
In a review of The God Squad in the Evening Herald in March 1989, former Government Minister Justin Keating emphatically condemned both the religious orders who ran the institutions and also people in the medical profession who, at best, gave inadequate care to children from these "homes". He also posed the question; "To what extent are such persons, morally and emotionally unworthy, still in positions of authority around the country, where they are entrusted with the care of the defenceless young?" (Doyle 2001:2) Ten years after this review, in an article in the Irish Times dated 15th July 1999, he apologised to all those who were abused during his time in office and asked that other Ministers who served with him do likewise. Mr. Keating argued that knowledge of such abuse was widespread at the time. Writing in the Irish Humanist, also in July 1999, he said: "I now come to something particularly painful for me personally. In the period 1973/1977 I was a member of the government, to the actions (or inactions) of which collective responsibility applies. The fact that my Department was Industry and Commerce does not absolve me from the guilt that follows from the fact that these things happened in my time". (Doyle 2001:2)
Although
the display of collective and retrospective responsiblilty may be viewed with
cynicism, this apology from the former government minister, and the apologies
from An Taoiseach Bertie Ahern and also members of the religious congregations
are, at the very least, an acknowledgement of the appalling suffering of the
children who were in institutional care in Ireland. A restorative process has
begun with the setting up of the Commission to Inquire into Childhood Abuse,
which has enormous potential value, both in terms of the healing process for
victims of abuse and also to compensate them financially. The need for financial
compensation is often glossed over, as though there is something vaguely distasteful
about seeking money for the harm caused to victims of abuse but, in many cases,
the harms suffered limited their ability to earn a living. (Raftery & O'Sullivan
1999:393)
The official reports which investigated the Reformatory and Industrial Schools
systems and submitted recommendations to the Minister for Education, and the
dramatic social changes which have occurred since the early 1970s have both
been instrumental in bringing about the closure of these institutions. Although
many of the recommendations of both The Kennedy Report and The Task Force have
been implemented, for example the establishment of special schools to cater
for children with behavioural problems and learning disabilities, and the increased
availability of foster care, it is evident from the Focus Ireland report that
these measures are insufficient to deal with the numbers of children who need
care. No coherent, effective and humane response to the problem has been established
since the Reformatories and Industrial Schools have been dismantled. There is
still clear evidence that official indifference continues to be shown to young
people with mental, physical and social disabilities. Even now, at the start
of the 21st century, Ireland has one of the worst rates of child poverty in
the EU, with one in four Irish children living in families with less than half
the average income. (Doyle 2001:2.5) In the past, the young victims of Ireland's
narrow and repressive culture had no voice and were kept hidden. Now, the victims
of an inadequate system of care are often highly visible, when they come before
the courts or are seen sleeping on the streets, homeless. Must they exchange
the Reformatories and Industrial Schools of old with the despair Wittgenstein
described; "whereof I cannot speak, therefore I must be silent" (Imhof 1996:123)