Different folk
RTÉ's Townlands provides a glimpse of a new way of living through sustainable housing, while Three 60 gives is a refreshing insight into the life of wheelchair-bound farmer
The former home of James Joyce – vividly described in Portrait of the Artist – used to back onto my small terraced house in Drumcondra, until the cubs of the Celtic Tiger arrived to demolish it at dawn. Before it's unauthorised demolition, it was owned by an elderly printer and true gentleman, Chris Kelly. In a shed in Joyce's former garden, Kelly printed the first edition of Bungalow Bliss, Jack Fitzsimons' book of house plans which spawned thousands of look-a-like constructions and inspired the first "be your own architect" movement. This remains the sole link between the two most influential books in modern Ireland: Ulysses and Bungalow Bliss.
If the perceived sins of Ulysses have been forgiven by the Irish people, many sins of Bungalow Bliss remain with us, sticking out across Irish landscapes. Townlands (RTÉ One, Wednesday) profiled the work of Peter Cowman, a crusader for a very different style of once-off sustainable housing in rural Ireland, designed for an energy-depleted future.
It made a slow start – as images of solitary men wandering around empty fields are inclined to. Yet it told its story well and, at its own pace, examined the progress of various people who attend Cowman's classes on how to design and build their own homes.
An Irishman and his Latvian wife prepared a site near Castlebar for their log-framed house, which made its way in three huge trucks from Latvia, across Europe and then up a succession of tiny boreens to be assembled. Another foreign student of Cowman's introduced the planning department of Limerick County Council to the mysteries of the octangle house he had conceived. At a time when houses are as mass produced and soulless as a tin of peas and commuters spend more time in their cars than their kitchens, it was a glimpse into a different way of living that is probably beyond most of us. But it presented an intriguing alternative. Cowman may need to check his inbox.
To survive as a farmer in Ireland is difficult, but to do so working from a wheelchair might seem impossible. Three 60 (RTÉ One, Monday) sounded like it might be a worthy but dull examination of disability, but the series has been nicely paced and highly watchable. This week's profile of Pat Carthy was especially so. This Sligo farmer lost the use of his legs in a car accident 18 years ago. But – with the attitude that disability is more in the mind than the body – he continues to lead a lifestyle that would exhaust most people. Combining a full-time job with running his farm, Pat Carthy goes through so many wheelchairs that the suppliers thought that he was selling them on. He was articulate, honest and sharp, and absolutely bereft of any self-pity. With our screens choked with so many self-obsessed non-entities he was a refreshing personality.
Every year I try to like Gaelic football. Hurling is the most skilful and exhilarating game in the world, but the only Gaelic football results that cause anguish in the Bolger household are draws. If you lived in a small house in Drumcondra, draws – and consequent replays with traffic chaos and self-appointed parking experts waving rolled up newspapers – would cause you anguish too. Park Live (RTÉ Two, Friday) and The Championship (BBC2, Wednesday) make valiant efforts to convert me. But the best Park Live came up with this week was a "what if" count-down compilation of the best missed free kicks in history. The Championship confined itself to an even more invigorating compilation of assaults committed by Kerry footballers on their Armagh counterparts. At times they seemed keen to make contact with all loose balls, especially those attached to an opponent's body. I would hate to see their version of foreplay.