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The Penguin Book of Irish Fiction - Reviews
It's hard to keep up with Irish literature, and it's difficult to take
stock of; the backlist, as it were, shifts constantly, being a cultural
tradition subject to the winds of politics and whatever a nation's
self-image is at the moment. The continuing productivity of the Irish--
and their diaspora--also contributes to the changing face of the overall
accomplishment. So it is never redundant to refashion Irish literature--
in this case, Irish fiction--and T ib n is an excellent choice, being
an expert novelist (The Heather Blazing), a superb travel writer and
historian (Homage to Barcelona) and young enough to be hip to the newest
writers. His take on the Irish tradition is complex and bracing: it is,
he says, "strangeness" itself. An awareness of the proximity of England
and France makes the Irish writer aware of what is missing; and the
three subjects that dominate Irish fiction are fire, men killing women,
and fathers and sons. In his invaluable introduction, T ib n provides
readers with a handy survey of writing in Ireland from the time of
Swift till the latest by Colum McCann. In between, he includes
selections from the standard-bearers (what to chose from Ulysses?
The demotic Irish speechifying of "Cyclops"), from the lesser known
and the unknown: John Broderick, from his beautiful The Trials of
Father Dillingham; the funny Benedict Kiely. This is an exhaustive
volume, and one with much variety. And its very last lines are apt,
drawn from "Going Back," by Emma Donahue (b. 1969): "They wandered
down the street past the restaurant, past the pub, coming to no
conclusion. Like tails of a cloud, their voices winding around and in
and out." Readers who wander into this long, big book will find conclusions
perhaps hard to come by, but the Irish air is unmistakable.
Copyright © (Mar.) 2000 Cahners Business Information
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