“But the indigenous music came to be seen as subversive—too nationalistic, too connected to the old stories. In 1603 it was proclaimed that ‘all manner of bards and harpers’ were to be ‘exterminated by martial law.’”

Irish music is portrayed as dangerously connected to old stories, as words like "subversive" and "nationalistic" add a layer of political and cultural suspicion, dramatizing English perspective on Irish culture. The proclamation that bards and harpers were to be "exterminated by martial law" is an example of hyperbole, emphasizing the extreme measures taken to suppress Irish cultural expression.

“Still, the indigenous culture—lively, excitably clannish, infectious—would flourish, as the English print on the land faded. The horse racing, the storytelling, the epic versifying over strong drink and tables heavy with trout and partridge, became the way of the occupiers.”

The Indigenous culture of Ireland is described with sensory imagery of leisure activities. Readers are invited to imagine the sounds of “lively” events, rich “heavy” food, and the intellectual pleasure of hearing “epic versifying” while drinking. This imagery contrasts with the fading English influence, juxtaposing the persistence and vibrancy of local traditions with the “faded” occupation.

“Dublin, winter of 1844. Black rain on black cobbled streets, carriages splashing through puddles, the bruised-looking Liffey lumbering to sea.”

The description of Dublin allows Egan to inject poetic rhetorical devices into his prose, transforming history into something closer to a novel by building a somber and oppressive mood the foreshadows events to come. The use of personification in describing the river as "lumbering to sea" gives the river human-like qualities, suggesting a sense of struggle and weariness that mirrors the