“The edge of the world here,” (McCann 37)

I was thinking about this quotation, and it inspired me in a way that this can be looked as a intercultural pun. I’m sure most of you heard about the fairy tale regarding Tir na Nog (or some variation of it) which is from Ireland (*cough Corrigans).

A quick refresher, according to what I remember: it’s a story about an old man who sailed westward from Erinn (Ireland) and reached a land of the youth (Tir na Nog), in which no one aged (practically a paradise). After years, he misses his hometown and pleads the tir-na-nog-ians to help him go back, but many advised against it, since returning to Erinn meant instant aging and death for the man. As a solution, they prepared the soil (tir = land) from the land of the youth, and asked of the man to never set his foot off the soil on his journey; that once he sets his foot off, he will most certainly die. Some version tells of his safe arrival back to tir na nog, while others end with the man violating the promise and becoming ashes and dust. Look up the actual story for more information, because my memory may have betrayed me on several details.

In a way, America does resemble the “edge” of the world, especially New York. There is a layer of eternal youth with the inevitability of death (both terms used figuratively, not in a literal sense).

I do not know if the author intended this or if he meant something totally different. However, I do think it is interesting how the stories intertwine in this city like the way the snakes wrap around the caduceus, facing the opposite direction but stemming from one root; our root is the humanity and new york is the top of the caduceus.