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Review of books
By Tom Deignan
Fiction
In 2005, The Sunday Business Post cited up-and-coming author John Boyne
as one of 40 Irish people under 40 who were likely to be “the movers
and shakers who will define the country’s culture, politics, style
and economics in 2005 and beyond.” Boyne is not only doing great
in Ireland but in America as well, where four of his books have been published.
First came The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, which chronicled a child’s
efforts to grasp the Holocaust. Then came Crippen: A Novel of Murder,
another dark historical novel about a (somewhat) forgotten murder case
which unfolded in 1910 and involved a mild-mannered doctor named Hawley
Crippen.
Crippen was followed by The Thief of Time, in which Boyne echoed Pete
Hamill’s Forever and gave us a story of a man blessed (or cursed)
with eternal life. Now, in Next of Kin, Boyne explores the British love
affair between Edward VIII and Mrs. Simpson. That famous story, however,
serves as more of a backdrop to other conflicts in Next of Kin. Boyne’s
protagonist is the wealthy and prominent Owen Montignac, who is hoping
his late uncle will leave him enough money to continue living well, not
to mention pay off some gambling debts. If Owen doesn’t come up
with a substantial amount of money, he has been told he will be killed.
In desperation, it is Owen himself who may be forced to turn to murder.
In Next of Kin, Boyne continues to prove he is an excellent historical
novelist, recreating 1930s London vividly, and painting a biting portrait
of the upper classes.
($24.95 / 368 pages / Thomas Dunne)
Ciaran Carson has just released a new translation of Ireland’s
greatest epic tale, The Táin, about the Connaught Queen Medh’s
attempt to steal the stud bull Dunn and the efforts of the teenager Cúchulainn.
With the recent film version of Beowulf hitting screens (starring Angelina
Jolie among others) now may be the time for readers to tackle this ancient
classic. Dating back to the eighth century, Táin Bo Cuailnge (as
it is fully known) is a heroic tale and, in the hands of Carson, a readily
accessible one. Without minimizing the breadth and poetry of this story,
Carson also emphasizes the compelling nature of the plot.
($24.95 / 256 pages / Viking)
If they gave out awards for titles alone, Joseph Caldwell’s new
novel The Pig Did It would surely win one. The book follows unhappy New
York teacher Aaron McCloud as he heads to Kerry to wallow with relatives
over a failed romance. Aaron’s Aunt Kitty is, to say the least,
a colorful personality.
Things go awry when a lost pig not only begins hanging around Kitty but
also discovers a human skeleton. Suddenly Aaron, Aunt Kitty and the pig
are thrust into what may be a murder mystery. Caldwell’s comedy
is sharp and The Pig Did It is a great read.
($22.95 / 195 pages / Delphinium)
Biography
In 1866, Conan Doyle published a story called A Study in Scarlet, the
first to feature a detective whose name was a combination of two of Doyle’s
classmates: Patrick Sherlock and Oliver Wendell Holmes. Though Sherlock
Holmes went on to become known as the ultimate British sleuth, his creator,
Conan Doyle, was born in Scotland in 1859, and as we learn in Andrew Lycett’s
new book The Man Who Created Sherlock Holmes: The Life and Times of Sir
Arthur Conan Doyle, he was really Irish.
A biographer of Rudyard Kipling and Dylan Thomas, Lycett now turns his
attention to the man many consider to be the creator of mystery fiction.
With access to thousands of previously unavailable documents, Lycett explores
the origins of Doyle’s interest in both science and spirituality.
He also explores his Irish background. Lycett writes: “Both sides
of [Doyle’s] family came from Ireland.
So far as the record extends, Arthur’s grandfather John Doyle was
a tailor’s son who started professional life as an equestrian artist
in Georgian Dublin. He won commissions from aristocratic patrons, including
Lord Talbot, Lord Lieutenant during a politically turbulent period from
1817 to 1821, and the Second Marquess of Sligo. One thing is indisputable
– the Doyles were devout Roman Catholics.”
This is certainly the definitive biography of a great Irish writer not
often lumped with the 19th century’s many other towering Irish literary
figures.
($30 / 559 pages / Free Press)
Non-Fiction
Two Irish-Americans
have recently released books meant to feed the public’s apparently
boundless fascination with the Mafia. For many years, Bob Delaney had
a fine job as a professional basketball referee with the NBA. Previously,
he had worked as a New Jersey state trooper. And as he now reveals in
Covert, Delaney infiltrated the mob at the highest level. In a book certain
to remind many of Donnie Brasco, we learn about the dangers of coming
too close to organized-crime killers. In fact, Delaney came across Joe
Pistone, the real-life Donnie Brasco, while both worked undercover.
In 1975, Delaney was practically still a rookie when he signed onto a
project which would ultimately lock up key members of the Bruno and Genovese
families, and pave the way for additional arrests by the federal government
in the 1980s. This is the fascinating story of how an Irish kid from New
Jersey waded into the mob, survived, and then went on to have a second
career as a referee in pro basketball.
($19.95 / 288 pages / Union Square Press)
Meanwhile, Pulitzer
Prize-winning columnist Jimmy Breslin is at it again, telling some of
his favorite mob stories in The Good Rat. The center of the book is Burton
Kaplan, the titular rodent and star witness in the recent trial of the
New York Police Department’s so-called “Mafia cops.”
Using Burton Kaplan as a way into New York’s mob, Breslin takes
us on a broader tour of the underworld.
We meet famous mobsters like Sammy “The Bull” Gravano and
“Gaspipe” Casso. (Guess what his favorite weapon was). But
there’s also Thomas “Three-Finger Brown” Lucchese, and
Jimmy “The Clam” Eppolito, and many of the guys who hung out
at Pep McGuire’s, a mob-friendly Queens bar. Breslin even takes
us inside the world of John Gotti on the night he celebrated his infamous
acquittal at the Ravenite Social Club on Mulberry Street in Little Italy.
(He basically bribed his way to innocence.) All of this is told with Breslin’s
inimitable grit and humor, proving that after all these decades, Breslin
is still a must read.
($24.95 / 288 pages / Ecco)
One of the
most gruesome episodes in the history of the American West was the trek
of the Donner Party in the 1840s. Irish immigrant Patrick Breen was among
those headed to California when the group came upon snow so deep they
were unable to continue. As he wrote in his diary: “We now have
killed most of our cattle, having to stay here until next spring.’’
Almost 50 of the 100 or so Donner travelers died, and some of those who
lived likely resorted to cannibalism. Now a full-scale history, entitled
Desperate Passage: The Donner Party’s Perilous Journey West, has
been written by Ethan Rarick. Using new archaeological evidence, and other
groundbreaking research methods, not to mention the heartbreaking letters
which survived, Rarick acts almost as an historical detective, overturning
many previously believed notions regarding the Donner Party. In the end,
Rarick writes, “this is a story of hard decisions that were neither
heroic nor villainous. Often, the emigrants displayed a more realistic
and typically human mixture of generosity and selfishness, an alloy born
of necessity.”
($28 / 304 pages / Oxford University Press)
A two-volume
study of stones may sound like a dreadfully boring read, but, thankfully,
readers of Tim Robinson’s Stones of Aran got much more from that
fascinating study of those islands and their distinct culture. Now, Robinson
takes a close look at another rich region with Connemara. A winner of
the Irish Book Award for non-fiction, this is regional history at its
finest. Robinson, who lived in Connemara for nearly two decades, reveals
more about the area than any straightforward history could through his
use of fables and written records. His writing remains lively, poetic
and finely detailed throughout.
($17 / 448 pages / Penguin)
For a more comical Irish tour, try Pint-Sized Ireland: In Search of the
Perfect Guinness, in which columnist Evan McHugh treks across the island
sampling the local nectar, in search of perfection. Now, that’s
good work if you can get it!
($13.95 / 288 pages / St. Martin’s)
Two of
the most famous characters in recent Irish literary history have returned
in a new book, actually two books. First, there is Frank McCourt, the
longtime New York City high school teacher who exploded onto the literary
scene with his Limerick coming-of-age memoir Angela’s Ashes in 1997.
Then there is Angela, Frank’s mom. Frank has written a new book
called Angela and the Baby Jesus. It is based on his mother’s youth,
specifically an incident which occurred when Angela was six and she stole
a baby Jesus from a local church nativity scene.
The story revolves around young Angela, worried that baby Jesus, sleeping
in the cold, dark church as Christmas approaches, will get sick. He is
not even covered with a blanket, little Angela notes. As in his first,
most famous book, McCourt gives a distinctive voice to a child with astonishing
skill. Angela comes alive as a thoughtful, determined person, even if
no one around her sees her that way. This is another magical tale blending
grim surroundings with redemptive humor, and aimed at readers of all ages.
Literally. Angela and the Baby Jesus has been published in two editions.
One, for children, includes illustrations by Raul Colon ($17.99 / 32 pages
/ Simon & Schuster). The adult version of the tale includes (arguably)
darker, more complex illustrations by Loren Long. As readers wait for
another longer book from McCourt, Angela and the Baby Jesus should hold
them over for a bit.
($14.95 / 40 pages / Scribner)
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