The Dial Code Was … Death!

First published in 1997, DEATH CALL by TS O’Rourke was one of the earliest of the modern Irish noirs. In common with some other Irish crime writers of the time - Vincent Banville, Ingrid Black, Eugene McEldowney, Jim Lusby, Seamus Smyth - O’Rourke was probably a little too far ahead of the curve, and the first phase of his career could probably be characterised by the old maxim about pioneers, who tend to get shot, and generally in the back.
  Happily, TS O’Rourke is a hard man to kill, in the literary sense, and he has recently begun publishing again. Not only that, but he has just republished DEATH CALL, with the blurb elves wibbling thusly:

It was all he could do to stop his hangover from spilling out onto the victim as he studied her neck and what he made out to be the initial puncture wound in her abdomen. From that point, he thought, she had been opened like an envelope with a paper knife, revealing a mess of entrails and blood.
  With a deranged serial killer on the loose, Detective Sergeant Dan Carroll and his new partner Detective Constable Samuel Grant find themselves trawling the seedy side of London in search of a brutal killer who preys on prostitutes.

  For all the info you need on TS O’Rourke’s novels, new and otherwise, take a wee wander over to his interweb lair …

Stop The Press: Dublin Dead!

As a title, DUBLIN DEAD may well be the Platonic essence of the current wave of Irish crime writing, quite a lot of which is set in Dublin, and - unsurprisingly - features dead bodies. It’s the second offering from Gerard O’Donovan, following on from his debut PRIEST, and features that novel’s journalist Siobhan Fallon and DI Mike Mulcahy. Quoth the blurb elves:

Journalist Siobhan Fallon needs the help of DI Mike Mulcahy with a story she’s covering about the disappearance of a young woman from Cork. When he agrees, the duo find themselves dragged into the ruthless world of international drug smuggling - and finding a link between the murder of a retired drug dealer in Spain, the suicide of an estate agent in Bristol and a yacht abandoned off the south coast of Ireland. Once again justice and journalism make awkward bedfellows as Mulcahy and Fallon run a desperate race against a remorseless enemy determined to silence the one person alive who knows the truth ...

  Given the number of Irish criminals who operate out of southern Spain, it’s remarkable that it has taken this long for a writer to embrace the Mediterranean as a setting, even in part. Is there anyone out there writing an Irish crime novel set entirely on the south coast of Spain? Or, for that matter, Amsterdam? I know that Ava McCarthy’s forthcoming HIDE ME is set in the Basque region …
  Gerard O’Donovan, incidentally, is yet another former or current Irish journalist turning his hand to crime writing: the list, in no particular order, includes John Connolly, John Banville, Niamh O’Connor, Liz Allen, yours truly, Brian O’Connor, Gene Kerrigan, Colin Bateman, Conor Fitzgerald, Alex Barclay, Ingrid Black, Garbhan Downey and Ruth Dudley Edwards. Is there something about the Fifth Estate that turns a writer’s fancy to blood and gore? Is the daily grind of pursuing facts so punishing that it persuades an unsuspecting scribe to write fiction? Or is it that said authors wanted to be writers all along, and journalism was a substitute in order to earn a crust? Or is it simply the pursuit of the publishing game’s (koff) glamour?
  Answers on a used €50 note to Declan Burke’s Bouchercon Fund, c/o Funny Money Investments Inc., Grand Cayman, The Caribbean, The World. Alternatively, you could just leave a comment in the box below …

Paint It Black

The Big Question: why do authors, when choosing a nom-de-plume as an Irish crime writer, go for Black? Ingrid Black, Benjamin Black, Sean Black … Why not Green? I’d pay good money to read the ‘entertainments’ of an Aloysius Greene.
  Anyhoo, Sean Black - who is about as Irish as haggis, but a good bloke with it; and anyway, he lives here - publishes the third in the Ryan Lock series of thrillers this August, GRIDLOCK, with the blurb elves wittering thusly:

Adult movie actress, Raven Lane, is one of the most lusted after women in America, with millions of fans to prove it. But when a headless corpse turns up in the trunk of her car, she realises that fame carries a terrible price. Fearing for her life, and with the LAPD seemingly unable to protect her, Raven turns to elite bodyguard, Ryan Lock for help. Lock stops bad things happening to good people, but can he stop the tidal wave of violence now threatening the city of Los Angeles as Raven’s predator targets - and kills - those closest to her? As events spiral out of control, Lock is drawn into a dangerous world where money rules, where sex is a commodity to be bought and sold, and where no one can be trusted, least of all his beautiful new client. But what he cannot know is the terrifying price he’s about to pay - just for getting involved ...

  Hmmm. Already this year we’ve had Casey Hill’s TABOO, which features a protagonist called Reilly Steel, which isn’t that far removed from real-life ‘adult movie actress’ Reilly Steele; and now Sean Black’s GRIDLOCK stars ‘adult movie actress’ Raven Lane. Is there a trend developing here? And can I jump the bandwagon early, thus belatedly justifying my lifetime’s research of the ‘adult movie’ industry? Only time, that notoriously doity rat, will tell …

The Bryce Is Right

I’ve no idea what the hold-up was, but Alex Barclay’s eagerly awaited fourth novel, TIME OF DEATH, finally arrives this month, with FBI agent Ren Bryce suffering the consequences of an ostensibly successful undercover operation that left one or two loose ends without a frilly bow. To wit:

FBI agent Ren Bryce’s hunt for some of the country’s most dangerous killers is about to turn into a nightmare. There is unfinished business between Ren and those she is pursuing, and soon she is forced to confront both personal and professional traumas. Then someone close to Ren is murdered and secrets from her past look set to be revealed, throwing her into a world of fear, paranoia and danger. Dark forces are at work and someone is determined to destroy Ren’s life. But time is running out and Ren must catch a killer before he catches her …

  TIME OF DEATH hits a shelf near you on July 22nd.
  Meanwhile, I’ve been mulling over for quite some time now (the entire three minutes since the idea occurred to me, to be precise) about how masculine are the current crop of Irish female crime writers. Not the writers themselves, of course - a more radiantly fragrant bunch of roses you’d be hard pressed to find the length and breadth of Christendom. As authors, though, they do tend to have a masculine edge. Alex Barclay’s hard-nosed Ren Bryce could by no stretch of the imagination be described as girly; Arlene Hunt not only writes of a partnership that is half male, but she did away entirely with the female half for her current offering, BLOOD MONEY; Tana French’s latest novel, FAITHFUL PLACE, features an entirely convincing male detective as its protagonist, as did IN THE WOODS; Cora Harrison’s series protagonist Mara is a judge in mediaeval times, an era not renowned for its enlightened attitude towards gender equality; Ava McCarthy’s female lead goes by the name Harry; and to say that Ingrid Black’s protagonists have balls would be anatomically incorrect, but metaphorically on the nail.
  Is it the case - Niamh O’Connor’s female detective being a hard-pressed domestic goddess at home, for example, but a ballsy woman at work - that the ladies are reflecting the fact that, in Ireland today, women have to work twice as hard as men in order to get paid half as much? Or are they simply having fun with gender politics? Or is it that, being the backward soul that I am, any woman not sporting kitten heels and a cleavage in which you could park a moped is immediately classed as unfeminine?
  The comment box is open for business, people …

Is This A Dagger I Don’t See Before Me?

Gosh, but it was a busy old weekend in the world of Irish crime fic letters. John Boyne and Stuart Neville commandeered an entire page in the Irish Times review section to write about Alan Glynn and James Ellroy, respectively (see below), and then Ruth ‘Cuddly’ Dudley Edwards (right) penned a billet doux to Gene Kerrigan, in the Sunday Independent. Gene, y’see, lost out in the Dagger awards, so Ruth (quite rightly) took umbrage, with the gist running thusly:

“As a long-time inhabitant of the crime-writing world, I can report that although his publishers force Gene to make an occasional public appearance, he is one of those self-effacing writers who clearly would rather die than go in for what we in the trade call BSP (blatant self-promotion). Think of the opposite of Jeffrey Archer and you’ve got some idea of Gene Kerrigan as a public figure. He answers questions, tells the truth and then goes home. Heaven forfend that he should hang around schmoozing, or recommending people to buy his books.”

  For the rest, clickety-click here …
  Elsewhere in the Sunday Independent, Eilis O’Hanlon (aka one half of the pseudonym ‘Ingrid Black’), took issue with the phenomenon of Book Clubs. To wit:

“Getting beaten up, intellectually at least, is an integral part of the book club experience, as evidenced by the row which erupted last month in the pages of the Irish Times after poet Mary O’Donnell wrote a sniffy piece on “the horror of book clubs”, citing as Exhibit A one woman on The Tubridy Show book group who apparently said she didn’t like to be disturbed by her reading material.
  O’Donnell unwittingly reinforced the impression of the critics of book clubs as elitist snobs who don’t want the hoi polloi storming the gates of literature. She seemed to regard it as a badge of honour for certain writers to alienate readers, and to see the breach as the fault of those readers. That is giving writers too much reverence. Personal intent ceases to matter once the book leaves their hands. The finished work has to fight its own battles …”

  Stirring stuff on behalf of the Wine Clubs, but then O’Hanlon goes further:

“That the vast majority of book clubs are still dominated by women (up to 80 per cent, according to some estimates) is no coincidence. They remain important forums for female friendship and interaction. Fay Weldon’s LETTERS TO ALICE ON FIRST READING JANE AUSTEN is a key text in understanding how women have used books as emotional maps though difficult terrain in their lives.
  But there’s still a suspicion that book clubs, however admirable, have led to a homogenisation of fiction, with preference given to novels which can easily be broken down into their constituent elements, allowing a blander discussion of the various “issues”. Readers can breeze through, ticking off the boxes one by one. It doesn’t make for better books, but it certainly makes for better book club books.”

  So there you have it – book clubs are good for publishers, but bad for writers. Any takers?
  Finally, it matters not a whit in the grand scheme of Irish crime fic letters, but the Crime Always Pays blog passed the ‘200,000 page impressions (aka ‘hits’)’ mark at some point over the weekend, having taken two and half years to get here. Not really a moment for trumpet-blowing, it’s true, but I think I’ll allow myself a faint parp on the ceremonial kazoo all the same, and thank everyone (aka ‘all three regular readers’) who come back day after day to wade through the mindless wittering for the sake of the occasional nugget provided by better writers than I. Much obliged, folks.

Black Is The Colour Of My True Love’s Pseudonym

Yet another week, yet another Irish crime fiction writer … Sean Black’s debut LOCK DOWN is published by Transworld Ireland in July (smashing cover, right), and already it’s attracted some heavyweight big-ups. To wit:

“Sean Black writes like a punch in the gut. Funny, tough, and furiously paced, LOCK DOWN explodes off the page.” – Jesse Kellerman

“A thrilling debut that locks you in and loads up the tension.” – Simon Kernick

  Mmmmm, nice. So what’s it all about, then? Quoth the blurb elves:

It may be Christmas in New York, but for ex-soldier turned elite bodyguard Ryan Lock it’s business as usual: his mission is to protect one of America’s most ruthless businessmen. A bloody shoot-out - suddenly gunshots ring out. People run for cover. Innocent people are mown down. Amid the chaos, Lock’s hunt for the killers turns into an explosive game of cat and mouse. A deadly secret - Lock’s search for the truth takes him from the rooftops of a New York skyscraper to a heavily fortified warehouse on the Hudson where he confronts one of the world’s most dangerous women. As the clock ticks towards midnight on New Year’s Eve, all routes into and out of Manhattan are sealed, and Lock realizes that not only is his own life in terrible danger but so are the lives of millions of others ...

  Sean Black isn’t actually Irish, as it happens, and he isn’t even ‘Sean Black’, but he lives here, he sounds as if he could be Irish, and we’re not overly fussy and / or pedantic about such things, especially since the Good Friday Agreement pretty much says you can be Irish if you close your eyes and wish to be Irish whilst clicking your red kitten-heels together.
  Anyway, that’s Sean Black, Benjamin Black and Ingrid Black … all Irish crime writers, and all pseudonyms. Isn’t it time we had a pseudonymic White? Eh?

On Equal Writes For Wimmin

I recently interviewed four Irish female crime writers – Ruth Dudley-Edwards (right), Arlene Hunt, Alex Barclay and Ingrid Black – for the Sunday Independent about being, y’know, crime writers who are Irish and women. Anyhoos, one of the questions was about why Irish crime writing has so far been dominated by men. Quoth ‘Cuddly’ Dudley-Edwards:

“It may be that Irish crime fiction is dominated by men because so far, it has tended toward the noir,” suggests Dudley-Edwards. “Certainly, very many of the most famous names in classical English crime fiction are female: Agatha Christie, Margery Allingham, Dorothy Sayers, PD James, Ruth Rendell. Indeed Reginald Hill has a story of being at a cultural event in France where an earnest man rose to ask why most of the writers of the Golden Age [the Thirties] of detection were women. ‘Because,’ explained Reg, ‘all the men were dead.’”

  Oh, and Arlene Hunt is adamant that women no longer need fainting couches. For the rest, clickety-click here.

Erm, Have We Had A ‘Dear Genre’ Post Yet This Week?

Kevin Power reviewed the latest Paul Howard novel, MR S AND THE SECRETS OF ANDORRA’S BOX, in the Irish Times yesterday, Paul Howard being the creator of Ross O’Carroll-Kelly, a Falstaffian comic foil that has allowed Howard skewer the pretensions of Celtic Tiger Ireland over the course of nine novels. The gist of Power’s review runneth thusly:

Irish fiction hasn’t kept up with Irish reality. So we get “literary” novels about paedophile priests, novels about the Famine, novels in which farmers walk the fields - but who pops into Starbucks and orders a grande chai latte with soy? During the last decade few novelists have bothered to notice what modern Ireland is actually like. This is terrain that Paul Howard … has made his own, seeing - or, more accurately, hearing - what the Irish really are, in south Dublin anyway … You will search the pages of our more distinguished literary novelists in vain for this kind of thing. When was the last time you read a novelist whose ear for the way some Irish people speak was so acute that he was capable of writing a sentence like “Just going back to what you were saying there about the whole non-national thing”?

  About two weeks ago, actually, when I read Kevin Power’s BAD DAY IN BLACKROCK. Power’s novel deals with the same strata of Irish society as Howard’s, albeit in a more serious vein. While I believe that the culture both men target is so hollow as to defy satire – Howard’s novels are much closer in tone to farce – Power certainly recreated the mini-cosmos with a deft touch, in the process showcasing a sharp ear for dialogue.
  Having said that, you have to wonder why Power ignores novels other than “literary” ones when making his point about fiction not dealing with the ‘real Ireland’. There are many examples of women’s fiction, aka chick lit, nailing the zeitgeist, the best and most popular being Marian Keyes. And, naturally, there are any amount of crime fiction novels that do so too. In 2008 alone we’ve had Declan Hughes’s THE DYING BREED, Tana French’s THE LIKENESS, Brian McGilloway’s GALLOWS LANE, Andrew Nugent’s SOUL MURDER, and Ingrid Black’s CIRCLE OF THE DEAD.
  You can argue in your own time about the literary merits, or otherwise, of those novels, although I’d argue that when it comes to storytelling, language is a tool akin to the sculptor’s chisel or the filmmaker’s camera – in other words, it needs to be first and foremost functional before it can start claiming any other virtues. The point being, there are plenty of novels relevant to the ‘real Ireland’ – there are novels due from Gene Kerrigan, Christy Kenneally, Declan Hughes and Tana French next year – that are being written with an ear for who we are now and where we are going.
  This is not to damn “literary” novels for not engaging with modern Ireland; a little birdie, for example, tells me that Gerard Donovan, for one, is currently at work on ‘a novel of crimes’, while David Park’s THE TRUTH COMMISSIONER, published earlier this year, is a powerful work about the post-Troubles political landscape in Northern Ireland. But why is it that only “literary” novels are accorded sufficient weight and credibility when it comes to recording the authentic experience of what is ‘real’ about the way we live?

DEAD She May Well Be

Ingrid Black’s latest, CIRCLE OF THE DEAD, is getting a nice little push from Penguin, said push including the publication of an extract from the novel on said flightless bird-type publishing company’s interweb yokeybus. If you ask me, which no one ever does, I’d say that said extract is a bit on the skimpy side, and doesn’t really offer enough for a reader to sink his or her teeth into. Mind you, why would want to bite your monitor screen? And is it even physically possible? Questions, questions …
  Anyhoos, here beginneth the extract:

‘What is it?’ I said.
  ‘Missing person,’ she sighed. ‘Nineteen. Out drinking last night with friends. Left about midnight to make her way home. This morning one calls round to see how she is. Turns out she hadn’t come home all night. Her parents assumed she’d stayed with friend.’
  ‘What’s it got to do with the Murder Squad?’
  ‘The Assistant Commissioner asked me to take a look at it,’ said Fitzgerald. ‘She knows the family. They’re worried. There’s no answer from her cellphone.’
  ‘Do they fear the worst?’
  ‘They’re her parents. Parents always fear the worst.’
  And maybe they were right to do so …

For the rest of the extract, clickety-click here …

Like The Descent Of Their Last End, Upon All The Living And The Dead

If it’s autumn, it must be Ingrid Black. CIRCLE OF THE DEAD, the fourth Black novel in five years, and featuring her series heroine Saxon, finds the husband-and-wife writing team in serial killer territory, to wit:

Ex-FBI agent Saxon has dealt with many killers in her time but nothing can prepare her for the night of horror ahead ... It’s early evening on Halloween when the Dublin Murder squad are called out to the home of wealthy businessman Daniel Erskine. There, in his basement, they discover Daniel’s tortured body. Then, just hours later, his friend Oliver Niland also meets a gruesome end. As special adviser to the Dublin Murder squad, Saxon teams up once again with Chief Superintendent Grace Fitzgerald to track down a killer who’s closer than they think. But why has he targeted Daniel and Oliver? And what is the significance of the group known as the Second Circle to which they both belonged? The other members of the group might have the answers – but can Saxon and Fitzgerald get to them before it’s too late?

  Well, here’s hoping they do. Mind you, at a whopping 496 pages in paperback, you’d be inclined to believe that quite a few of the Second Circle are due some form of grisly comeuppance. Meanwhile, I’m wondering why Ingrid Black isn’t a household name. Saxon has that ballsy lesbian thing going on, she’s ex-FBI, and the woman is a more attractive Jessica Fletcher in terms of body-count. Like, what more do you want, people?
  Oh, and courtesy of the “Is It Just Me?” department: Is there any chance that ‘The Dead’ part of the title is a nod to the James Joyce short story of the same name, given that the novel kicks off with the worst snowstorm Dublin has seen in half a century? If anyone out there is in the know, pray tell ...

The Best Things In Life Are Free … Books

Tony Black has his hotly anticipated debut novel PAYING FOR IT published tomorrow (jump here for a first chapter sample), and the good folk at Preface, out of Random House UK, have been kind enough to give us three copies to give to you. Yes, YOU! First, the blurb elves:

Gus Dury once had a high-flying career as a journalist and a wife he adored. But now he is living on the edge, a drink away from Edinburgh’s down-and-outs, drifting from bar to bar, trying not to sign divorce papers. But the road takes an unexpected turn when a friend asks him to investigate the brutal torture and killing of his son, and Gus becomes embroiled in a much bigger story of political corruption and illegal people-trafficking. Seedy doss-houses, bleak wastelands and sudden violence contrast with the cobbled streets and cool bistros of fashionable Edinburgh, as the puzzle unravels to a truly shocking ending.

Lovely. To be in with a chance of winning a copy, just answer the following question. Is Tony Black:

(a) Benjamin Black’s son;
(b) Ingrid Black’s brother;
(c) A third cousin, twice removed, to that guy Black who sang Wonderful Life;
(d) Not related to anyone in the world anywhere – he’s actually an orphan who needs to sell all the books he can in order to scrape together the cash to find his long-lost family. Sob.

Answers via the comment box, please, leaving an email contact address, using (at) rather than @ to confuse the spam-munchkins, by noon on Wednesday, July 23. Et bon chance, mes amis …

The Monday Review

It’s Monday, they’re reviews, to wit: “A clear disciple of Elmore Leonard, McFetridge (DIRTY SWEET) has almost every character talk and think like Chili Palmer, not a bad thing for a fun read,” says Publishers Weekly of EVERYBODY KNOWS THIS IS NOWHERE. A certain Ken Bruen, via John McFetridge’s blog, agrees: “EVERYBODY KNOWS THIS IS NOWHERE is just one hell of a read, takes off like a bullet and never lets up, like a wondrous mix of Elmore Leonard and McBain but with a dazzling Canadian slant that is as fresh as it is darkly hilarious.” Which is nice … “Declan Hughes has captured the spirit of Ireland in his series featuring the private detective Ed Loy … Hughes is especially good at dialogue. The story is less persuasive than in the earlier books and ends in high drama, but he is a very fine writer,” says Susanna Yager at The Sunday Telegraph of THE DYING BREED. Back to Ken Bruen for a mo: “Taylor’s a far cry from an affable character. In the hands of a weaker writer than Bruen, he’d probably be detestable and utterly unreadable. But Bruen does it with seeming ease. His is one of the freshest, most distinct voices in crime fiction today … Holding it all together is Bruen’s skill and fierce vision, and of course Taylor, a black hole of a hero if there ever was one,” reckons Kevin Burton Smith at The Rap Sheet (scroll down) about PRIEST. Over at Euro Crime, Norman Price is raving about CROSS: “Ken Bruen has written yet another brilliant book with his protagonist Jack Taylor able to speak for all those people who have been left behind by the complications of modern society … If you haven’t read Ken Bruen yet you are missing some the finest crime fiction being written today. It is not gentle like the Irish rain but harsh like Ireland’s history.” Martin Edwards likes Brian McGilloway’s first offering: “I’ve finished Brian McGilloway’s debut novel, BORDERLANDS, and I enjoyed it. After a steady beginning, the pace develops and there is plenty of action, coupled with a plot of increasing complexity that has its roots (like so many of the best murder plots) buried in the past … All in all, then, a very assured debut.” A couple now for John Connolly’s latest: “THE REAPERS fairly crackles with menace; the portrayal of serious-minded individuals utterly intent on completing their dark objectives is masterly. The author has adapted and blended elements of both the neo-noir and gothic tradition to produce a stylish piece, from which a darkly laconic sense of humour protrudes like a razorblade from an apple. In Connolly’s world, sentimentality gets abducted from outside a porno cinema and mercilessly pistol-whipped in a dank basement. THE REAPERS is all the better for it,” says Fachtna Kelly at the Sunday Business Post. Over at The Book Bag, Iain Wear agrees: “What I found was a highly enjoyable book that aside from a couple of minor points, proved to be a quick and easy read. It’s simply written, but the nature of the genre and of the characters involved here demands that and this helps keep the pace of the story high and stopped my interest in events from waning at any stage … I would certainly recommend THE REAPERS and, to judge from what events Connolly hinted at from his earlier books, the author in general.” But stay! What news of Benny Blanco? “This sequel to CHRISTINE FALLS is as atmospheric and dark, dark, dark a story as its predecessor … pulls you in with complicated characters, all machinating in gloomy 1950’s Dublin, and manages to be a crackling story as well as a bitter study of chances lost, and contentment squandered,” says Sohaila at McNally Robinson of THE SILVER SWAN. Meanwhile, Sarah Weinman is impressed with Benny’s forthcoming opus, THE LEMUR: “Anyone who thinks John Banville lacks a sense of humour clearly did not read his serial for the New York Times magazine, available in novella-ish format in July. The story has all the basic crime ingredients - blackmail, adultery, murder, betrayal, that sort of thing - but it is so, so clear how much fun Banville had writing this pseudonymous exercise, loading up sentences filled with bizarre but well-placed metaphors and gently (or not so gently!) lampooning his characters as he moves them around his narrative chess board.” Yet more big-ups for Tana French’s Edgar-winning IN THE WOODS: “This is a very fine book. The characters and relationships are fully drawn, the suspense of the police work is terrifically exciting, and the writing is lovely to read … This is not just an excellent police thriller; it’s an excellent novel, even for people who think they don’t like police thrillers. Recommended without reservation,” says Keith at In Which Our Hero. Justine at Fresh Library concurs: “One of the most gripping, well-written books I’ve ever read … Tana French does an amazing job in creating the characters and the dark, gloomy atmosphere of the woods … I highly recommend this book!” Over to Newsvine, where Adam Colclough is impressed by Ingrid Black’s latest: “THE JUDAS HEART is a truly superior thriller with an original setting and a plot that keeps the reader guessing until the last moment. Black’s view of the consequences of jealousy is, as events reveal, truly Shakespearean … Amidst the massed ranks of books about serial killers and the people who hunt them the work of Ingrid Black stands out as being the real deal.” Finally, a trio for John Boyne’s new offering: “Boyne’s novel can stand comparison with [William Golding’s RITES OF PASSAGE]. Written with a total command of naval expertise, without ever spilling over into pedantry, MUTINY ON THE BOUNTY is story-telling at its most accomplished … There is also a happier ending for Turnstile than ever seemed possible. This he richly deserves for having told his extraordinary tale with such wit and verve,” says Nicholas Tucker at The Independent. Mary Warnock in the Sunday Independent likes it too: “Boyne is a spellbinding story-teller with a real feel for the period. As he so successfully did with CONGRESS OF ROUGH RIDERS and THIEF OF TIME, he wonderfully evokes a particular atmosphere and has a lively historical imagination. Most of all, he tells a cracking good tale and, in this case, honour has been finally satisfied to boot.” And some wastrel called Declan Burke at Crime Always Pays offers his two cents: “Comparisons to Joseph Conrad and William Golding’s RITES OF PASSAGE trilogy are not outrageous, and Boyne has clearly paid attention to TREASURE ISLAND. Throw in the exotic setting of Otaheite, the mutiny, and one of nautical history’s most impressive feats of endurance, and MUTINY ON THE BOUNTY is well-nigh irresistible.” Hurrah! Can we use that ‘Boyne’s Own Adventure’ line yet again to finish off? No? Ah, boo …

Cecilia, You’re Breaking Our Hearts

The Irish Independent carried a piece last weekend previewing the Dublin Book Festival, the gist of which ran thusly:

‘Aspiring Irish writers hoping to follow in the footsteps of Cecilia’
Speaking ahead of this weekend’s Dublin Book Festival, Sean O’Cearnaigh, President of the Irish Book Publishing Association, said that the market was alive and well here. “It’s certainly in a state of change, but publishers here have around 15pc of the market of books that are on sale in shops at the moment.” And the success of the market is all down to the talent of Irish writers, he added. “Irish writers are our secret weapons,” he explains. “We have everything from big writers to chick-lit authors to sports writers. There is a lot of talent. We have a lot of up-and-coming writers coming through as well, writers who have their finger on the pulse. Ireland is changing a lot and it’s just a matter of reflecting that, which many of the writers do.”

  And these writers with their fingers on the pulse, reflecting a changing Ireland? Declan Hughes, Arlene Hunt, Ken Bruen, Brian McGilloway, Ingrid Black, et al … They, unfortunately, were all too busy beavering away reflecting a changing Ireland to get along to the Festival. In fact, no Irish crime writer could tear him or herself away from the desk long enough to give a talk or attend a panel, lest removing their fingers from the pulse for even a moment might result in a national tragedy. The Festival did, of course, have a panel of true crime writers talking about crime and Ireland, but for the most part these were crime journalists promoting one-off books about a specific crime.
  Crime fiction writers? Pshaw, sir! Fie! And this despite the fact that the big news stories in Ireland over the last month were the brutal murder of two Polish men in Dublin; the ongoing farce in which an taoiseach (aka prime minister) Bertie Ahern attempts (and largely fails) to explain to a tribunal his, erm, idiosyncratic accounting procedures back when he was Minister for Finance; the largest drug haul in the history of the State; the murder of a young mother by her husband, who allegedly modelled his modus operandi on that of a previous killer; etc., ad nauseum. In other words, anyone writing fiction in Ireland today who is not dealing with crime is writing escapist fiction.
  And yet, if you walk into any Dublin bookstore today (other than the wonderful Murder Ink on Dawson Street), you’ll be faced with a bank of James Patterson’s 7TH HEAVEN, which is the worst apology for a sick monkey of a half-arsed first draft the Grand Vizier can remember reading. ‘Fingers on the pulse’, eh? Meanwhile, the Cecilia in whose footsteps Irish writers are hoping to follow? That’ll be the ever-lovely Cecilia Ahern (right), a creator of women’s fiction so insubstantial, frothy and sickeningly sweet that cotton candy may yet sue. Who just so happens to be the daughter of an taoiseach (aka prime minister) Bertie Ahern, who is attempting (and largely failing) to explain to a tribunal his, erm, idiosyncratic accounting procedures, etc., ad nauseum.
  Laugh? We nearly emigrated.

Funky Friday’s Freaky-Deak

It’s Friday, it’s funky, to wit: Publishers Weekly announces that Benny Blanco’s THE LEMUR is slated to appear as a Spring 2007 Audio, despite the fact that it’s currently being serialised in the New York Times and it won’t be published as an actual, y’know, novel until June … Harrumph, etc. Staying with the pseudonymous Black family: the first sighting of the upcoming Ingrid Black novel, THE NIGHT SHIFT, hoves into view over an October-shaped horizon, with the blurb elves at Michael Joseph / Penguin declaiming thusly: “It takes a lot to spook ex-FBI agent Saxon, but with a serial killer on the loose in Dublin, this is going to be a Halloween night to remember. Ingrid Black’s novel is a dark and inventive real-time thriller …” Hurrah! Two fascinating pieces for anyone still flogging the horse called ‘crime fiction is as good as that literary rubbish any day’: Charles McGrath had an excellent piece entitled ‘Great Literature? Depends Whodunit’ in the New York Times, while Lawrence Douglas and Alexander George compile The Literary Police Blotter at The Chronicle of Higher Education. Camus, Shakespeare, Kafka, Homer, Nabokov, Fitzgerald, Dostoevsky and Cervantes are among the usual suspects being interrogated for writing ‘classic’ crime narratives … Staying with classic crime narratives: Twenty Major’s genre-busting opus THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX PARK goes on the shelves next month – catch up here with Twenty’s drinking buddy Lucky Luciano, the ‘compassionate assassin’ … Finally, and by popular demand, it’s another Jim Steinman classic for the Funky Friday vid: yep, it’s Bonnie Tyler lacerating her vocal cords on Holding Out for a Hero from the soundtrack of FOOTLOOSE, complete with Kevin Bacon, subtitles and a pretty blatant nod (even leaving aside the chicky-run tractors) to REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE (jump here for Marlon Brando’s screen-test as Jim Stark). Roll it there, Collette …

“You Read Me Poetry That’s Irish And So Black.”*

With three Irish writers nominated for Edgar awards, Declan Burke asks why Irish crime fiction - aka dubh noir - is suddenly so popular in the USA.

Have you heard that Shrooms and Once have both been nominated for Best Movie at the Oscars? No, you haven’t – but can you imagine the hoo-hah if they were?
  Three Irish writers have been shortlisted for the prestigious Mystery Writers of America ‘Edgar’ awards. Named after Edgar Allen Poe, the man who single-handedly invented the crime genre, the Edgars are crime fiction’s equivalent of the Oscars.
  In the ‘Best Novel’ category, Ken Bruen (right) was nominated for PRIEST, in which Galway private eye Jack Taylor investigates the decapitation of a priest in a confessional. Benjamin Black, aka John Banville, got the nod for his debut crime novel, CHRISTINE FALLS, in which pathologist Quirke investigates the death of the eponymous character in 1950’s Dublin.
  Tana French, the Vermont-born author who now lives in Ireland, was nominated in the ‘Best First Novel by an American Author’ category. IN THE WOODS follows a male and female detective partnership as they investigate what appears to be the ritualistic murder of a teenage girl in a leafy Dublin suburb.
  Bruen is already a multiple award winner in the US, and has previously been nominated for an Edgar; Tana French made the New York Times best-seller list some months back; and Black / Banville’s upcoming crime story, THE LEMUR, the third in the Quirke series following on from The Silver Swan, is currently being serialised in the New York Times.
  The glaring question, of course, is why aren’t these writers as popular in Ireland as they are in the US?
  “It’s the old chestnut of crime fiction not being considered ‘real’ writing,” says Bruen. “Funny that, with a Booker-winner [Banville] and a Pulitzer-winner [Michael Chabon] on the shortlist.”
  And yet John Connolly’s superbly written novels, for example, have been best-sellers in the US and Ireland for many years. Why has the new wave of Irish crime writers, the dubh noir of Declan Hughes, Brian McGilloway, Ingrid Black, Alan Glynn, Arlene Hunt and Adrian McKinty, suddenly become so popular there now?
  McKinty (left), an Irish writer now living in Colorado, believes that the new wave of Irish crime writing has coincided with the fact that America’s perception of Ireland has ‘changed radically in the last few years’. “Many of the old stereotypes are finally being laid to rest,” he says, “and Americans have discovered that Ireland is no longer the country of sheep, rain, ANGELA’S ASHES and The Quiet Man.
  “Crime writers embrace modernity and contemporary problems,” he says, “and Americans can’t help but notice in their visits to Dublin that Ireland has the youngest population in Europe and Dublin is a multi-cultural, twenty-first century city.”
  Charles Ardai, co-publisher at Hard Case Crime, which publishes the novels BUST and SLIDE, Ken Bruen’s collaborations with American author Jason Starr, suggests that Irish crime writing possesses a ‘wounded romanticism’ for American readers.
  “Irish settings are particularly appealing, not only because they have a touch of the exotic for US readers but because of the lyricism and sadness of the Irish voice – it blends nicely with the wounded romanticism that has been at the heart of crime fiction ever since Raymond Chandler make it his speciality,” he says. “No one can express pain and grief as resoundingly as an Irishman. No hard-drinking private eye can toss back pints with more fury (or more stamina) than an Irish P.I. And the poetry of the language is just delicious: by and large, American voices just can’t compete with Irish ones when it comes to describing a scene in a tasty way.”
  “Before Christmas,” McKinty says, by way of explaining the new-found American appetite for Irish rather than ‘Oirish’ stories, “I went to the movies to see I Am Legend. The preview for PS, I Love You elicited groans from the audience, but the preview for Martin McDonagh’s new crime thriller, In Bruges, brought belly laughs. That surely is a sign of something.” – Declan Burke

This article is reprinted with the kind permission of the Evening Herald

* A free copy of THE BIG O to the first person to identify the song. Ray Banks? You’re barred.

The Monday Review

It’s Monday, they’re reviews, to wit: “If you don’t know either Bruen or Starr’s writing, they’re both masters of thinking up the most degenerate shit to put people through and then getting it on the page … These guys are among the reigning kings of the darkest of dark noir. And it’s not just because they’re so twisted … they really do tell a damn fine story,” says Rob at 52 Novels of SLIDE. Over at Book Reporter, Joe Hartlaub is equally impressed with BUST: “This is a dark, gritty and inappropriately hilarious cautionary tale – exquisitely conceived and flawlessly written – about getting what you think you want and regretting it, and the endless consequences of evil deeds.” Nice … Mack Lundy at Mack Pitches Up likes Ingrid Black’s THE JUDAS HEART: “I really enjoyed this book and rate it one of my top reads of 2007,” and so does Max at Revish: “THE JUDAS HEART is one of the best crime thrillers I read in 2007 … This is a good, fast-paced story that pulled me in from the beginning and kept me interested throughout … a cracking good read.” Strangely Connected dives into Adrian McKinty’s back catalogue to consider HIDDEN RIVER: “As in his first book, McKinty’s prose is sharp, well-paced, and compelling. But I think I like DEAD I MAY WELL BE better because it was bleaker, more noir, and its Michael Forsyth was somehow more real than Alex Norton.” They won’t stop coming for Benny Blanco: “Further novels in this series are planned – they are superbly written, with very strong characterisation and a fantastic picture of Dublin and Ireland before the Celtic Tiger was even a cub,” says Trapnel at Books to Furnish a Room of CHRISTINE FALLS and THE SILVER SWAN. Harriet Klausner at Genre Go-Round Reviews agrees: “This sequel to the superb CHRISTINE FALLS is an excellent investigative thriller that grips the audience … THE SILVER SWAN is a great Irish whodunit,” while John Dugdale at the Sunday Times (no link) chips in with, “Although it recalls the 1930s London of Graham Greene or Patrick Hamilton, Black’s 1950s Dublin is more poisonously village-like, intensifying the sense of everyone watching everyone else.” Which, presumably, is a good thing … Dugdale also liked Ronan Bennett’s ZUGZWANG: “It’s an enjoyable brainy caper … with Buchanesque derring-do, Pynchonesque blending of politics and cultural trends, and sex scenes a la The White Room – there’s a feeling of the whole exercise being a literary version of role play.” Over at the Mail on Sunday, Eithne Farry got her hands on an early copy of Ronan O’Brien’s CONFESSIONS OF A FALLEN ANGEL: “Author Ronan O’Brien has a fine sense of drama, marrying the minutiae of everyday life to the extraordinary, with spirited aplomb.” Finally, Derek Landy’s SKULDUGGERY PLEASANT showed up in Terri Schlichenmeyer’s Best Books of 2007 for the Argus Observer: “Great for adults as well as kids, this gentle mystery with a magic skeleton detective was fun and it made me laugh. What more could a kid — of any size — want?” Quippe at Live Journal agrees: “The latest children’s / YA book to inherit the title ‘The Next Harry Potter’, this comes a lot closer than most. Landy’s experience as a scriptwriter really shines through in the dialogue of this novel, which snaps and crackles with wit and whilst there’s a curiously old-fashioned feel to the narrative, it’s very easy to buy into and reflects the world he’s created.” Snaps, crackles and damn near pops off the page, ma’am …

The Monday Review

It’s Monday, they’re reviews, to wit: “With, at times, echoes of the legend of Icarus and strongly redolent of a Victorian boys’ adventure story, AIRMAN really is a ripping yarn, with some excellent writing, notably in its concluding chapters,” says Robert Dunbar in the Irish Times (no link) about Eoin Colfer’s latest standalone. Over at The Arts Fuse, Harvey Blume likes Ronan Bennett’s latest: “ZUGZWANG is rich in historical detail … an historical thriller that makes good use of the fact that chess games are thrillers, too.” The inevitable John Connolly hup-ya runneth thusly: “THE UNQUIET takes a step back from the myth-building of THE BLACK ANGEL, and tells a smaller story, the closest thing to a straightforward investigation that the series has presented … The supernatural overtones are not forgotten, and are represented by the terrifying Hollow Men lurking on the edges of Parker’s vision, controlled by a shadowy figure he has met before,” says Richard Wright … Derek Landy’s SKULDUGGERY PLEASANT has been nominated for a Cybil, aka the 2007 Science Fiction & Fantasy Finalists: “This smart novel is full of humour, action, and a real sense of danger – and has a sly wit that would appeal to a wide age range,” reckons Sarah via the Cybils Blog … A couple of big-ups for Benny Blanco, starting with CHRISTINE FALLS: “I really enjoyed this and look forward to more. Definitely not a formulaic mystery; very well written,” says Beth at Paradise is a Library. Meanwhile, John Spain at the Irish Independent likes THE SILVER SWAN: “Black’s imagery perfectly evokes the stale and smoky Dublin of the time. Brilliant writing makes the leisurely pace a pleasure.” Staying with John Spain in the Indo, and his verdict on Julie Parson’s I SAW YOU: “As connections surface it all gets very murky and chilling in a story of love, revenge and atonement.” Sarah Harker at the Crewe Guardian likes Tana French’s IN THE WOODS, to wit: “Touching and poignant, thrilling and fast paced, this debut novel by Tana French is a unique read that will leave you up all night and hungry for more. Beautifully written, with a twist that you won’t see coming, IN THE WOODS is a stunning debut.” Over at Crime Reports, Adam Colclough can barely contain himself over Ingrid Black’s latest: “THE JUDAS HEART is a truly superior thriller with an original setting and a plot that keeps the reader guessing until the last moment … By far the best feature of this and Black’s other novels is the laconic but always touchingly human voice of Saxon herself, making her one of the most consistently realised serial characters in modern crime fiction and offering a potentially Oscar-winning role for some lucky Hollywood star in the almost inevitable film adaptation of this or one of Black’s other novels … Ingrid Black stands out as being the real deal.” Crikey! Finally, the Florida flag-flyer for Irish crime fiction, Michael Haskins, has Mr & Mrs Kirkus (no link) poring over his debut CHASIN’ THE WIND: “If the plot sounds outlandish, blame it on all the booze Mad Mick and his pals imbibe as they rescue a tortured lady, shoot it out with those Cubans and … sail off to Castro’s paradise to settle the score, although not to the complete satisfaction of the feds.” The question being, of course, whether anything is ever settled to the complete satisfaction of the feds …

Irish Crime Fiction, Eh? Now That Is A Novel Idea …

John Spain, literary editor at the Irish Independent, lamented the State of the Irish Novel back at the end of December, the gist of his piece running thusly:

“In that sense 2007 was another year in Irish fiction when not much emerged that was new or engaged with Celtic Tiger Ireland … It was more of the same misery, sexual unhappiness and navel-gazing. Isn’t it time our best writers got over themselves and started to tackle the Ireland of today? […] Non-fiction writers like historian Roy Foster and economist David McWilliams have been trying to capture the changes of the last 20 or 30 years in their most recent books. But so far our fiction writers – even the gifted [Anne] Enright – have dodged the challenge. It’s time to move on, guys.”

Erm, John? You might want to try, in no particular order, Gene Kerrigan, Ken Bruen, Tana French, Declan Hughes, Brian McGilloway, Andrew Nugent, Ingrid Black, Sean Moncrieff, Mia Gallagher … Actually, it’s a pretty long list of diverse stories and storytellers, with a common theme being that they’re all investigating what makes the Ireland of today tick. Just thought we’d mention it …

The Monday Review

Benny Blanco from the Bronx, aka Benjamin Black, aka John Banville, is still getting hup-yas for CHRISTINE FALLS even as THE SILVER SWAN hits the shelves. Quoth Nick Rennison in the Sunday Times: “Readers who found [THE SEA] suffocatingly pretentious will be pleased to learn that his new venture, set in a claustrophobic 1950s Dublin awash with rank secrets, is a breath of fresh air by comparison … What unfolds is a potently involving and deftly evolving intrigue … A dark pleasure.” Meanwhile, reviewing THE SILVER SWAN for the Irish Times, Ruth Dudley Edwards can hardly contain herself: “Black has produced two highly intelligent, disconcerting, unpredictable and beautifully written page-turners which tell us a great deal about our past and address serious moral issues. In a sane literary world THE SILVER SWAN would be considered for another Booker prize …” Cripes! Speaking of prizes, Eoin Colfer has just been long-listed for the Carnegie Prize … “I enjoyed reading ARTEMIS FOWL AND THE LOST COLONY. This is my favourite book of the series. Eoin Colfer, the author, constantly surprises the reader more than any of his other books that I’ve read,” reckons Squid at BookWorld … Over at Reviewing the Evidence, Sharon Wheeler kinda likes Ingrid Black’s latest, THE JUDAS HEART: “On the whole … Black has written a fluent page-turner which is strong on atmosphere, sound on plotting and somewhat lacking in characterisation.” Anna North, writing for the San Francisco Chronicle, is much more impressed by Ronan Bennett’s latest, to wit: “The novel becomes a noirish page-turner, complete with shifting allegiances and executions in dark alleyways … ZUGZWANG does not merely offer pleasures both high and low – it erases the distinction. The novel is exciting not despite but because of the moral seriousness of its situations. Bennett’s premise may not be unique, but his talent is, and writers of slicker thrillers would do well to take his work as a lesson in the titillation of the mind.” Sweet. Is it time yet for the inevitable John Connolly big-up? Yes it is, starting with our ol’ buddy Bob the Wordless: “Awesome book. Connolly’s Charlie Parker novels are superb noir. If you like a little bit of horror with your noir, read any of his books … Dark, suspenseful, disturbing, lyrical, emotional. That’s all you need to know about his latest Charlie Parker book, THE UNQUIET. Get it. Highly, highly recommended.” Thank you, sir. Duran Duran fan Write Out, over at I’ll Cross That Bridge When I Find It, concurs: “This was a great, great read. Connolly is a lyrical writer who knows how to pace his story for maximum effect. I highly recommend this author’s stuff, and not just his Parker stories.” Huzzah! Onwards to Andrew Nugent’s latest, courtesy of Jill Hinckley at Murder By The Book: “SECOND BURIAL is a … serious and affecting work, exploring the murder of a member of London's Nigerian community with sensitivity and power. The characters are unforgettable, the insight into a little-known culture astonishing, and the plot development intense and sometimes terrifying or heart-breaking.” They’re still coming in for Paul Charles’ new series, to wit: “It is all presented in a style that’s restrained and slightly old-fashioned. And humane too. Altogether THE DUST OF DEATH is a relief from the in-your-face descriptions of post-mortems and ingenious sadism which is standard fare in plenty of current US and UK crime fiction. The book also conveys a great sense of place. Not quite a cosy but definitely not gritty (despite that crucifixion), THE DUST OF DEATH may not be to everyone’s taste but I suspect that Starrett and co may pick up quite a following after this quirky, individual opening,” says Philip Gooden at Shots Mag … Pithy Review of the Week goes to Henderson at BookCrossing, casting his eye over AMMUNITION: “Third book by [Ken] Bruen I have read, this is the second one that I read in one day (nine stars).” Finally, Tana French’s IN THE WOODS is still jazzing ’em. “A mystery with complex, interesting characters and wonderfully written prose … The characters and their relationships are intricate and plot is well written – a good mystery!” reckons Judi at the Manhattan Public Library, while Maxine Clarke at Euro Crime weighs in with, “Although long, IN THE WOODS is a cracking read. I have often read the word “unputdownable” to describe a book, but in this case it is true … the villain is easy for the seasoned reader to identify, but even so this does not matter, as the way in which the case is solved is chillingly suspenseful, and the writing style superb.” Thank you kindly, ma’am …

Booker, Danno II: This Time It’s Personal

Spare Me The Eloquence: Declan Burke On … The Booker Prize Winner

What a difference a week makes. Sales of THE GATHERING jumped by almost 900% in the week following Anne Enright’s Booker prize win, up from 649 copies one week to 5,481 the next. Better still, the controversy over whether it was the best book in the competition or only snuck up on the inside as a result of a split vote meant Enright managed to win the sympathy vote along with a big fat cheque. I bought a copy, but only because my wife’s book group had picked THE GATHERING as next month’s excuse to polish off a few bottles of Shiraz. Will I be reading it when she’s finished? Nope. The rave reviews put me off. Practically every one of them purrs about how wonderful a writer Enright is, a fabulous stylist, an elegant wordsmith, and all that jazz. Practically none of them mention the story, which is apparently about a dysfunctional Irish family with some class of a sex abuse scandal lurking in the cupboard along with the skeletons. Now, if I want to read words in their best order, I’ll read poetry. But I don’t. When I read I like a rollicking good story, something that’ll pull me in so deep that I can’t hear the iPod of the loony behind me on the 46A, who has ‘The Final Countdown’ cranked up to 11 at eight-thirty in the morning. Besides, a lot of the reaction to the book reckoned that Enright’s win would be an inspiration to Irish literary women. Which is (a) sexist to men, (b) condescending to women, and (c) ignorant of all the brilliant women writers already out there. There’s a fantastic range of new talents in the crime fiction genre alone, and collectively they offer a bewildering diversity of story types. Tana French writes from a first-person male perspective in her police procedural INTO THE WOODS. Cora Harrison writes historical novels set in the 15th century, featuring a female Brehon judge. Arlene Hunt takes on the classic private eye style, but gives it a Moonlighting twist with her male-and-female partnership. Claire Kilroy’s novels, the latest of which is TENDERWIRE, are literary thrillers. Ingrid Black’s THE JUDAS HEART was published last week, the latest in a series of post-feminist thrillers starring an ex-FBI agent on the mean streets of Dublin. KT McCaffrey writes a cracking series featuring investigative reporter Emma Boylan, even though ‘KT’ is actually a bloke. Fine writers one and all, but with this in common – their reviews concentrate on their ability to tell a story, not their flair for a poetic phrase. Good luck to Anne Enright, and hearty congrats on her big win, but she’s too good a writer for me.

This article was first published in the Evening Herald