The
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18 January 2004
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Historian who defied adversity
IRISH VIEWPOINT: Patrick O’Farrell ... ‘lent legitimate voice to histories’
Professor Patrick O’Farrell 1933–2003
Like many great Australians, my father was born in New Zealand (in 1933) – in Greymouth, a town which he once observed, with his characteristic wit, was a great place to get away from, and fast.
He was the second person from Greymouth to go to university, in Christchurch, on the other side of the mountains. He met my mother, Deirdre, herself a student, working in the university library. They married in 1956, moved to Australia and began an action-packed existence, continued without cease until his death. Times were never dull.
Between them they embarked on a life which was typified by enterprise, humour, often struggle, and the pursuit of excellence. The ordinary would never do, for them or their children.
For this I am greatly personally indebted – the pursuit of excellence
fortunately spurring them to continue after the arrival of my older brothers
and sisters, Clare, Gerard, Virginia and Richard, all of them here today and
so evidently imbued with so many of the same qualities.
In 1959, following his three-year scholarship at the ANU, my father arrived
at the University of NSW, a place for which he always held an enormous
affection and gratitude – a place which, as his history of it demonstrates, was
attuned to the spirit of one prepared to challenge the prevailing ethos, conventions
and stuffiness, open to ideas and the freedom to express them, that mixture
of respect for learning and the right to challenge vigorously – something
he did often and with masterful humour.
During the 60s and early 70s, he had two stints as visiting Professor of History at University College and Trinity College, Dublin, and in 1972 a personal chair as Professor of History at the University of NSW.
In 1977, when he was 44, a stroke paralysed his right side. With his characteristic toughness, mixed with the enormous concern he had to ensure we were all looked after, he survived against all predictions (the first of many times) and beat off those who may have thought at that time, foolishly, to consign him to history.
He taught himself to write with his left hand and launched into it,
often plagued by ill-health but with an ornery unpreparedness to
be beaten
down by adversity.
In this he was assisted by the extraordinary efforts of so many
of the doctors and nurses at the Royal North Shore Hospital.
By the end of his life he had published 12 books in various editions,
edited others, featured in a variety of radio and TV presentations
and published
well over 100 journal articles on a great array of subjects. At
the time of his
death, he was anxious to press on with his current book, locked
away in his study with his music on in the background and his phone
at
the ready,
staying
in touch with his far-flung network.
My father was much loved and respected both here and in New Zealand and in Ireland, his works lending legitimate voice to the histories of those whose histories were hitherto unrecognised in polite society, voicing the history of Ireland from an Irish viewpoint, the histories of the Irish in Australia and New Zealand for what they brought to the foundations of those countries, and the history of the Church in Australia (The Catholic Church in Australia: a short history 1788-1967) for those who’d never had one.
His works brought a new, contrary view, a different and more powerful context in which so many could view not just their past, but their present, and what he felt should be their untrammeled aspirations for the future.
Emeritus Professor Patrick O’Farrell died on Christmas Day.
Edited from the eulogy by Justin O’Farrell, one of the five children of Patrick and Deirdre O’Farrell.