The Banshees of Inisherin
The question I’ve been asking myself recently has been: am I the Pádraic Súilleabháin in this friendship?
It’s worth asking, after all. I am a bit dull, and I’ve been told that I’m too nice, and I like to talk about the little joys and delights of the day, rather than grand, philosophical thoughts. I’m not someone who is transfixed on leaving any legacy other than knowing that I left kindness in the hearts of the people I love and the world around me.
I have known, and have been friends with, people who have grander plans than my own. I have delighted in the company of those who have deep, existential thoughts and who pursue an art that will leave an impact on the world. I have relished being with them, despite our differences.
The Banshees of Inisherin asks: is this really friendship? Is one person silently growing wary of the other, ready to rid their lives of dullness in the pursuit of greatness?
Perhaps, as the Pádraic Súilleabháin in most of my relationships, I don’t notice when people grow wary of me. Perhaps I should be more aware, lest I find myself with severed fingers at my doorstep, too.
The Banshees of Inisherin (Searchlight)