Kevin Doyle with an extract from his short story Do You Like Oranges? It was an Ian St James International Short Story Award prize winner and appeared in the anthologies Pulse Fiction (London, 1998) and Snapshots (London, 1999).
Almost ten years ago, on a warm May afternoon in the town that I come from: that is where all this began for me. The year is 1981 and it is the height of the hunger-strikes. I am walking alone, along a terraced street not far from my home. It is late afternoon, nearer to five o clock than four, and I am thinking about moving out of home, of getting away from my father. But he’ll take it badly. Why? he’ll ask. What is wrong with here? You don’t have a job yet, he’ll say, and you don’t have any money. Stay a while longer, he’ll plead, until you have work at least. This is what I’m thinking when a voice says, ‘Hey!’
Yesterday TPQ published an Arkiv review of Lethal Allies by Anne Cadwallader. Today Pat Finucane Centre board member, activist, academic and QUB graduate Dr Stuart Ross critiques that review.
In a review of Paul Larkin’s A Very British Jihad: Collusion, conspiracy and cover-up in Northern Ireland, Queen’s University academic Adrian Guelke argued that many of the author’s claims regarding allegations of collusion were 'open to argument, to put the matter mildly' (Fortnight, May 2004). Indeed, he cites one of the cases highlighted by Larkin – when Guelke himself was shot by the UDA – and states 'that my case hardly demonstrates the intimate level of collusion that he wishes to suggest existed among the Loyalists, elements of the security forces and the apartheid regime.' Ultimately, Guelke contends that much of Larkin’s work was made up of 'foolish innuendo[es] ... about a number of prominent figures in this society'; easily dismissible and easily dismissed.
Anne Cadwallader’s Lethal Allies also takes on the controversial issue of collusion in Ireland; her work isn’t so easily dismissible or dismissed. Still, in a lengthy review of her newly published book, Arkiv claims that but for the inclusion of HET reports:
Here Arkiv mention Larkin’s A Very British Jihad. Yet Cadwallader never claims an over-arching British state policy per se. And, in fact, there is much more than HET reports which make this important and controversial work a cut above the rest.
From the onset, Cadwallader is explicit about the origins and remit of the project of which her book is the outcome. It is not – and is not intended as – a scholarly treatise on British state policy on the North, much to Arkiv’s disappointment. Lethal Allies covers nearly 120 different killings which took place mainly (though not exclusively) in what has been dubbed the “murder triangle” in Counties Armagh and Tyrone. These killings took place in the 1970s and Cadwallader convincingly documents how they were carried out by a particular 'loyalist gang, and permutations of it, with tacit assistance from members of government forces' (p. 16). She does 'not claim that every RUC officer or UDR soldier was collusive, or every loyalist was manipulated, or every judge or British cabinet minister mendacious' (p.16). Nevertheless, it is argued 'that enough was known, or should have been known, by sufficient people in places of authority, to prevent many of the murders described' (p. 16).
While HET reports certainly play a major part in corroborating the author’s very serious allegations, so too does over 15 years of meticulous research. Lethal Allies is also based upon official government reports, on hundreds of hours of archival research at Kew, at PRONI, the Newspaper Library in Belfast and dozens of local libraries scattered across this island. It is based on years of back-and-forth correspondence between the Pat Finucane Centre and the RUC, PSNI (at various levels), the DPP, the Northern Ireland Courts Service, the Coroner’s Office, the Office of the Attorney General and Lord Chief Justice. It is based on countless meetings and correspondence between Justice for the Forgotten and Justice Barron, the Department of Justice and the Gardai SÃochána in the Republic. Numerous interviews were carried out with victims, survivors, whistle-blowers, serving police officers, retired police officers, etc. Moreover, it includes damning ballistic reports which link many a “stolen” weapon to murder after murder after murder.
Arkiv acknowledge that '[t]he issues of collusion raised in the book are indeed profoundly serious ones' but deal very little with these issues (despite the fact that these issues comprise the bulk of Lethal Allies.) And unsurprisingly Arkiv make no reference to the “human side” of these multiple tragedies – the pain, humiliation, harassment, etc. suffered by those who lost their loved ones – this too is an important part of the book. Instead Cadwallader and the Pat Finucane Centre are taken to task for failing to recognize 'the massive challenges faced by the security forces and the RUC in particular in the early to mid-1970s.' This is given as one of the main reasons why so many of the murders described may not have been properly investigated (evidence in the book often suggests otherwise.) The HET investigators do 'note that applying the standards of contemporary best practice to the chaotic, pressurized and dangerous conditions of the Seventies is anachronistic and unfair' but it is the HET that 'in report after report ... goes on to criticize successive RUC enquiries' (pp. 260-261)
Furthermore, while the author is accused of depicting arrest rates of 'loyalist terrorists and rogue security force members [as an] unmitigated failure,' this is only partially true – a section of the book actually documents what happened to some of those arrested, what charges were filed and how the justice system then failed in its duties.
The review points out that '[m]uch is made of the murderous activities of the former member of the UDR Robert Jackson and the allegation that he worked as a hit-man for British Military Intelligence and the RUC.' The allegation is indeed made and it is based on far more than the word of Colin Wallace (perhaps the reviewer missed the whole discussion regarding Jackson and the Miami Showband killings – see pp. 103-108). Still, rather than focus on this allegation, emphasis is placed on the many opportunities the RUC had to arrest Jackson and many of his associates. What is more, it is argued that the evidence to effectively prosecute Jackson did exist – in fact it existed on a number of occasions – and this is pointed out time and time again. Why this did not happen, readers can decide for themselves.
Elsewhere Arkiv claim that Lethal Allies 'resurrects the ‘Wilson Plot’ thesis of an MI5 conspiracy to overthrow the Labour Prime Minister.' In nearly 400 pages of text, the thesis is touched on in a matter of two or three sentences – not much of a resurrection. Arkiv also argues that “the logic” of the book results in a number of “strange conclusions”. For example, the author’s views on the collusion supposedly lay 'blame for the Kingsmill massacre ... at the door of the British state' (Cadwallader clearly states that the IRA were responsible for the attack – something which the Republican Movement still refuses to do – and that it was “terrible and inexcusable”) (p. 158). It is even said that 'Cadwallader and the PFC claim the IRA’s ‘Long War’ was a product of ... British collusion', yet the IRA’s ‘Long War’ strategy is never discussed in the book. What is said, however, is that collusion simply prolongs conflict – indeed, '[t]he hard lessons learned in Armagh and Tyrone have a relevance as far away as Afghanistan, Iraq and other modern theatres of war' (pp. 372-373).
* * *
Hours after the Dublin/Monaghan bombings, the then Taoiseach Liam Cosgrave (FG) argued 'Everyone who has practised violence or preached violence or condoned violence must bear a share of responsibility for today’s outrage' (p. 221). The Dublin/Monaghan bombings remain the greatest loss of life in a single day of the Troubles but there was no national day of mourning and no government minister visited the injured or bereaved. The deadly attacks were carried out by UVF personnel (many of who were either former or serving members of the security forces) and serious allegations persist that other British security force members also played a part. Much of this was known in the immediate wake of the bombings yet Cosgrave and other Irish government officials quickly shifted the blame for the bombings onto republicans.
Arkiv regards Lethal Allies as 'but the latest manifestation of a one-sided ‘blame the Brits’ syndrome.' As noted above, Arkiv say very little about the 120 murders documented in the book. These brutal killings were carried out by loyalists who were aided and abetted by state forces; oftentimes there was no distinction between the two. The book documents this. The British government was well aware of loyalist infiltration of the UDR and of the frequent arms raids on Army bases in the North. This too is well documented. The 'overwhelming majority of those specifically targeted were people who were progressing economically, socially and politically – people with aspirations their parents could only have dreamed of' (p. 363). Only one of the murders covered in this book was of a republican activist. No over-arching British state policy is alleged here, but in each of these cases blame is 'laid at the door of the British state' and rightly so. Would Arkiv rather shift the blame?
Anne Cadwallader’s Lethal Allies also takes on the controversial issue of collusion in Ireland; her work isn’t so easily dismissible or dismissed. Still, in a lengthy review of her newly published book, Arkiv claims that but for the inclusion of HET reports:
there would be little to distinguish ... [it] from a number of others that have claimed to uncover an over-arching British state policy to use counter-insurgency tactics ... to deal with the IRA.
Here Arkiv mention Larkin’s A Very British Jihad. Yet Cadwallader never claims an over-arching British state policy per se. And, in fact, there is much more than HET reports which make this important and controversial work a cut above the rest.
From the onset, Cadwallader is explicit about the origins and remit of the project of which her book is the outcome. It is not – and is not intended as – a scholarly treatise on British state policy on the North, much to Arkiv’s disappointment. Lethal Allies covers nearly 120 different killings which took place mainly (though not exclusively) in what has been dubbed the “murder triangle” in Counties Armagh and Tyrone. These killings took place in the 1970s and Cadwallader convincingly documents how they were carried out by a particular 'loyalist gang, and permutations of it, with tacit assistance from members of government forces' (p. 16). She does 'not claim that every RUC officer or UDR soldier was collusive, or every loyalist was manipulated, or every judge or British cabinet minister mendacious' (p.16). Nevertheless, it is argued 'that enough was known, or should have been known, by sufficient people in places of authority, to prevent many of the murders described' (p. 16).
While HET reports certainly play a major part in corroborating the author’s very serious allegations, so too does over 15 years of meticulous research. Lethal Allies is also based upon official government reports, on hundreds of hours of archival research at Kew, at PRONI, the Newspaper Library in Belfast and dozens of local libraries scattered across this island. It is based on years of back-and-forth correspondence between the Pat Finucane Centre and the RUC, PSNI (at various levels), the DPP, the Northern Ireland Courts Service, the Coroner’s Office, the Office of the Attorney General and Lord Chief Justice. It is based on countless meetings and correspondence between Justice for the Forgotten and Justice Barron, the Department of Justice and the Gardai SÃochána in the Republic. Numerous interviews were carried out with victims, survivors, whistle-blowers, serving police officers, retired police officers, etc. Moreover, it includes damning ballistic reports which link many a “stolen” weapon to murder after murder after murder.
Arkiv acknowledge that '[t]he issues of collusion raised in the book are indeed profoundly serious ones' but deal very little with these issues (despite the fact that these issues comprise the bulk of Lethal Allies.) And unsurprisingly Arkiv make no reference to the “human side” of these multiple tragedies – the pain, humiliation, harassment, etc. suffered by those who lost their loved ones – this too is an important part of the book. Instead Cadwallader and the Pat Finucane Centre are taken to task for failing to recognize 'the massive challenges faced by the security forces and the RUC in particular in the early to mid-1970s.' This is given as one of the main reasons why so many of the murders described may not have been properly investigated (evidence in the book often suggests otherwise.) The HET investigators do 'note that applying the standards of contemporary best practice to the chaotic, pressurized and dangerous conditions of the Seventies is anachronistic and unfair' but it is the HET that 'in report after report ... goes on to criticize successive RUC enquiries' (pp. 260-261)
Furthermore, while the author is accused of depicting arrest rates of 'loyalist terrorists and rogue security force members [as an] unmitigated failure,' this is only partially true – a section of the book actually documents what happened to some of those arrested, what charges were filed and how the justice system then failed in its duties.
The review points out that '[m]uch is made of the murderous activities of the former member of the UDR Robert Jackson and the allegation that he worked as a hit-man for British Military Intelligence and the RUC.' The allegation is indeed made and it is based on far more than the word of Colin Wallace (perhaps the reviewer missed the whole discussion regarding Jackson and the Miami Showband killings – see pp. 103-108). Still, rather than focus on this allegation, emphasis is placed on the many opportunities the RUC had to arrest Jackson and many of his associates. What is more, it is argued that the evidence to effectively prosecute Jackson did exist – in fact it existed on a number of occasions – and this is pointed out time and time again. Why this did not happen, readers can decide for themselves.
Elsewhere Arkiv claim that Lethal Allies 'resurrects the ‘Wilson Plot’ thesis of an MI5 conspiracy to overthrow the Labour Prime Minister.' In nearly 400 pages of text, the thesis is touched on in a matter of two or three sentences – not much of a resurrection. Arkiv also argues that “the logic” of the book results in a number of “strange conclusions”. For example, the author’s views on the collusion supposedly lay 'blame for the Kingsmill massacre ... at the door of the British state' (Cadwallader clearly states that the IRA were responsible for the attack – something which the Republican Movement still refuses to do – and that it was “terrible and inexcusable”) (p. 158). It is even said that 'Cadwallader and the PFC claim the IRA’s ‘Long War’ was a product of ... British collusion', yet the IRA’s ‘Long War’ strategy is never discussed in the book. What is said, however, is that collusion simply prolongs conflict – indeed, '[t]he hard lessons learned in Armagh and Tyrone have a relevance as far away as Afghanistan, Iraq and other modern theatres of war' (pp. 372-373).
* * *
Hours after the Dublin/Monaghan bombings, the then Taoiseach Liam Cosgrave (FG) argued 'Everyone who has practised violence or preached violence or condoned violence must bear a share of responsibility for today’s outrage' (p. 221). The Dublin/Monaghan bombings remain the greatest loss of life in a single day of the Troubles but there was no national day of mourning and no government minister visited the injured or bereaved. The deadly attacks were carried out by UVF personnel (many of who were either former or serving members of the security forces) and serious allegations persist that other British security force members also played a part. Much of this was known in the immediate wake of the bombings yet Cosgrave and other Irish government officials quickly shifted the blame for the bombings onto republicans.
Arkiv regards Lethal Allies as 'but the latest manifestation of a one-sided ‘blame the Brits’ syndrome.' As noted above, Arkiv say very little about the 120 murders documented in the book. These brutal killings were carried out by loyalists who were aided and abetted by state forces; oftentimes there was no distinction between the two. The book documents this. The British government was well aware of loyalist infiltration of the UDR and of the frequent arms raids on Army bases in the North. This too is well documented. The 'overwhelming majority of those specifically targeted were people who were progressing economically, socially and politically – people with aspirations their parents could only have dreamed of' (p. 363). Only one of the murders covered in this book was of a republican activist. No over-arching British state policy is alleged here, but in each of these cases blame is 'laid at the door of the British state' and rightly so. Would Arkiv rather shift the blame?
- Note: Arkiv’s review ends by accusing Cadwallader of 'ungenerously rubbish[ing] the HET’s role in dealing with the past' – not true. Until very recently, the Pat Finucane Centre has critically engaged with the HET on behalf of families since it started reviewing cases in 2006. As the book notes, however, 'many families have been bitterly disappointed by HET Reports' and the Centre has always maintained that this avenue is a deeply flawed and imperfect way for families to begin to learn the truth regarding the death of a loved-one during the Troubles (p. 17). Nevertheless, Cadwallader has very openly and publicly praised the 'small team of very diligent officers of huge integrity and courage' who investigated many of the Glennane gang killings.
- Lucinda Williams
Silver gems that pierce the dark,
Heavenly virgins in disguise;That stir the heart with love and flameAnd light great flames in all men's eyes
Ar dheis De go raibh a anam.
To my mind it's something worth considering that behind every hero and martyr is a family and a human story, because although they died as heroes they were still but ordinary lads to those who called them brother, father, son - ordinary men who became extraordinary, shaped by the savageness of Britain's oppression and repression in the occupied six-counties. Their pain is still very much there so to stand today in solidarity with his mother and sister, who lost their only son and brother because of the political situation here, was a privilege and a sad reminder of the suffering our people have been forced to endure.
Dessie Morgan, like so many other young men in Tyrone of his generation, was compelled by the tragedy unfolding around him as war broke out in the six-counties to join the ranks of Oglaigh na hEireann. Conditioned by the riots that swept through Coalisland in the July of 1970 after the RUC sealed the town to facilitate a triumphalist Orange march he became an active member of the East Tyrone Brigade, despite being practically still a boy. When I heard his story today it brought back memories of another young Volunteer who's grave we visited earlier this summer, also 40 years dead having been killed on Active Service with his comrade Dan McAnallen during an attack on Pomeroy RUC Barracks in August 1973. Young Patsy Quinn was incredibly just sixteen years old when he lost his life trying to free his native land, having already by that stage, like so many other young men round these parts, proved himself a mature and committed Volunteer with no fear of those who sought to bring terror to our streets and towns.
The story of Tyrone's fight in the most recent phase of our struggle is sadly littered with examples of such young men, often still teenagers, who died because of a war not of their making and a singular determination to engage and to respond to those who brought that war to their communities and to pursue the struggle for Irish freedom that went hand-in-hand with that determination.
The great tragedy in all this is that such young men were denied their right to live out their lives like the rest of us. Dessie Morgan was no different than others of his generation; he enjoyed the craic, going to dances and the cinema with his peers. He was a qualified tradesman with a full-time job and he was a keen sportsman - especially when it came to lining out for his local club Brackaville Owen Roes, who he represented with a pride typical of those living in the shade of their more illustrious parish-rivals, Clonoe and Coalisland. Indeed they say a better left-foot could not be found in the whole of the county never mind the ranks of Junior football, where he applied his trade as a dependable corner-back who possessed the same grit and determination still associated today with the good people of that area. Dessie could have went on to do anything he wanted; to build a home, raise a family, pass on his skills on the football field to the generations that were to follow him onto the sod of O'Brien Park, the kind of things we all take for granted. But the terrorist war the British state prosecuted against our people meant it could never be so.
This to me is the greatest tragedy of what happened here, that such young lads were denied such basic, run-of-the-mill norms and that their families suffered the terrible loss of a loved one gone long, long before their time. It should never have happened.
It was great to see people turn out in their droves to remember Dessie and to stand shoulder to shoulder with his loved one's, to let them know that he is more than a name on the Roll of Honour to us, that he is our comrade, our friend, our inspiration, our guiding light. Well done to those in the local Eamonn Ceannt Society and the wider Republican Movement for organising such a dignified and fitting event yet again.
The thing about it is that while for many the Republic may appear a lost cause, dead and buried given the way things have sadly turned out, while we have men like Dessie Morgan or Patsy Quinn or Dan McAnallen or the many other young men of those times to light our way, to inspire us and force us to confront the political reality that we still live under occupation and that we still have work to do, well then the republic will never die and remains a living, breathing thing. Because it lives in them, it lives in us and to it we must and will return.
Dessie Morgan, like so many other young men in Tyrone of his generation, was compelled by the tragedy unfolding around him as war broke out in the six-counties to join the ranks of Oglaigh na hEireann. Conditioned by the riots that swept through Coalisland in the July of 1970 after the RUC sealed the town to facilitate a triumphalist Orange march he became an active member of the East Tyrone Brigade, despite being practically still a boy. When I heard his story today it brought back memories of another young Volunteer who's grave we visited earlier this summer, also 40 years dead having been killed on Active Service with his comrade Dan McAnallen during an attack on Pomeroy RUC Barracks in August 1973. Young Patsy Quinn was incredibly just sixteen years old when he lost his life trying to free his native land, having already by that stage, like so many other young men round these parts, proved himself a mature and committed Volunteer with no fear of those who sought to bring terror to our streets and towns.
The story of Tyrone's fight in the most recent phase of our struggle is sadly littered with examples of such young men, often still teenagers, who died because of a war not of their making and a singular determination to engage and to respond to those who brought that war to their communities and to pursue the struggle for Irish freedom that went hand-in-hand with that determination.
The great tragedy in all this is that such young men were denied their right to live out their lives like the rest of us. Dessie Morgan was no different than others of his generation; he enjoyed the craic, going to dances and the cinema with his peers. He was a qualified tradesman with a full-time job and he was a keen sportsman - especially when it came to lining out for his local club Brackaville Owen Roes, who he represented with a pride typical of those living in the shade of their more illustrious parish-rivals, Clonoe and Coalisland. Indeed they say a better left-foot could not be found in the whole of the county never mind the ranks of Junior football, where he applied his trade as a dependable corner-back who possessed the same grit and determination still associated today with the good people of that area. Dessie could have went on to do anything he wanted; to build a home, raise a family, pass on his skills on the football field to the generations that were to follow him onto the sod of O'Brien Park, the kind of things we all take for granted. But the terrorist war the British state prosecuted against our people meant it could never be so.
This to me is the greatest tragedy of what happened here, that such young lads were denied such basic, run-of-the-mill norms and that their families suffered the terrible loss of a loved one gone long, long before their time. It should never have happened.
It was great to see people turn out in their droves to remember Dessie and to stand shoulder to shoulder with his loved one's, to let them know that he is more than a name on the Roll of Honour to us, that he is our comrade, our friend, our inspiration, our guiding light. Well done to those in the local Eamonn Ceannt Society and the wider Republican Movement for organising such a dignified and fitting event yet again.
The thing about it is that while for many the Republic may appear a lost cause, dead and buried given the way things have sadly turned out, while we have men like Dessie Morgan or Patsy Quinn or Dan McAnallen or the many other young men of those times to light our way, to inspire us and force us to confront the political reality that we still live under occupation and that we still have work to do, well then the republic will never die and remains a living, breathing thing. Because it lives in them, it lives in us and to it we must and will return.
The killing makes the third item on the national news even though it has not been ascertained that the man was murdered. It is not a supernatural story but Mons Kallentoft has pitched some of the dialogue of this novel so that that the dead person is narrating what is going on around him as the police and forensic workers gather beneath his feet: and then some. Although unusual it complements rather than complicates.
Guest writer Carrie Twomey casts an eye on the possible post-Christmas outcome of the Haass All-Party Talks. Using imaginative licence she sketches what she believes is a likely scanario of things to come concerning things past.
Introducing The IILB
Haass Talks Result: The International Independent Legacy Body
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| Richard Haass unveils the Intl Ind Legacy Body (IILB) |
Haass Talks Result: The International Independent Legacy Body
For this article I wish to set aside any reference to the past in regards to attacks carried out by militant Republicanism or even any actions of Loyalist groups. I simply wanted to ask questions of the Republican audience on this forum: those who are former Republican prisoners, some have been within the Provisional Movement and others from the Irish Republican Socialist section. Overall, republicans share a main objective of uniting Ireland.
I picked up The Damned Utd one wet morning in Dublin. Too
early to get into an oral history conference, the purpose of my visit to the
city that day, I browsed through the used bookshops of Capel Street. As far as
these places go it is a pretty congested street, much like one I had walked
through in London this summer past. The shelves were well stocked but despite
having visited it a few times since picking up The Damned Utd, disappointingly nothing
else has caught my eye.
The cover of this book is enough to catch the eye. The
scowls of the Leeds United players as they walk behind Brian Clough in 1974 as
he leads them out onto the Wembley turf suggests Elland Road was not a happy
hunting ground: ‘the glummest faces ever seen at Wembley.’
Earlier a friend had given me as a present the Tokyo
domiciled Brian Peace’s Red or Dead, which reconstructs the life of Bill
Shankly, the once famed manager of Liverpool FC. Before I got to opening it I
was advised to read The Damned Utd first. Apart from being highly recommended,
I knew it was within reach, having seen it so often in used bookstores. It was
only to be a matter of time before it would come again.
- What you end up remembering isn't always the same as what you have witnessed ― Julian Barnes.
Morrison appears to have made his comment in response to the court appearance of a Derry republican who pleaded guilty in return for a three year sentence, something 'never' contemplated by any republican contemporary of Morrison. ‘Never’ is one of those absolutist statements which leave virtually no room for exception. For that reason it is easily falsifiable.
Whether this is memory lapse or conscious revisionism on the part of Morrison, the reader is free to make up their own minds. Given the tone it looks less like bringing clarity and more a case of the usual smear thrown the way of yet another who has refused to buy the bull. Whatever about court strategy back then, smearing certainly went on in the old days too.
Dr Mark Hayes with a piece on the late IRA volunteer Brendan Hughes that initially featured on the Tal Fanzine website on 11 November 2013. Mark Hayes defends the reputation of this exemplary volunteer in the face of disingenious criticisms from former republicans who have now become incorporated into the administrative apparatus of the British state.
A short time ago I was asked by TAL editor if I would consider writing a short piece about Brendan Hughes. As readers of TAL will doubtless be aware Brendan Hughes figures prominently in the narrative of modern Irish Republicanism, and much has already been said and written about him. What else, I pondered, might usefully be added to the wealth of material that already exists? Moreover, there is a sense in which the effort to recollect causes much more pain than pleasure. Why inflict more discomfort by revisiting the past?
 |
| Brendan Hughes |
It is hard to believe the Scandinavians can continue to serve up top shelf crime fiction over such a sustained period. With a glut of outstanding writers in the genre Scandinavia has brought to crime fiction what Spain has done for soccer.
This debut novel makes disputes within science understandable to the non scientific mind, delving as it does into Darwinian research and natural selection. It provides a backcloth to the heated verbal battles that occur so frequently within the academic community and prompts memory of a phrase from Henry Kissinger that disputes within universities are so vicious because they are about so little. Not like the disputes that have raged around Kissinger’s career of mass murder.
The author, Sissel-Jo Gazan graduated from the University of Copenhagen with a degree in biology, so she knows her stuff, and her familiarity with the scientific terrain is easily conveyed to the pages of her book. She runs a number of separate but parallel narratives in this book. Stories of lives within lives where people have their own concerns that consume them but which make them both all the more plausible and interesting as characters. The events of their lives enrich the book and are not thrown in as padding.
This debut novel makes disputes within science understandable to the non scientific mind, delving as it does into Darwinian research and natural selection. It provides a backcloth to the heated verbal battles that occur so frequently within the academic community and prompts memory of a phrase from Henry Kissinger that disputes within universities are so vicious because they are about so little. Not like the disputes that have raged around Kissinger’s career of mass murder. The author, Sissel-Jo Gazan graduated from the University of Copenhagen with a degree in biology, so she knows her stuff, and her familiarity with the scientific terrain is easily conveyed to the pages of her book. She runs a number of separate but parallel narratives in this book. Stories of lives within lives where people have their own concerns that consume them but which make them both all the more plausible and interesting as characters. The events of their lives enrich the book and are not thrown in as padding.
Guest writer Maitiu Connel with a piece reflecting on the meaning of Remembrance Sunday
Those crisp mornings in November when we are leading up to Remembrance Day to honour those who died and served in the world wars and other conflicts.
Those crisp mornings in November when we are leading up to Remembrance Day to honour those who died and served in the world wars and other conflicts.
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Today The Pensive Quill carries a piece from guest writer Antaine Mac Dhomhnaill ruminating on recent events in the scandal saturated life of Gerry Adams.
I open the paper less often than once was the case. I do not recognise the new narrative and have not done so for quite some time; more importantly, I do not want to understand it or allow it form in my subconscious.
Guest writer Martin McCleery with his perspective on the the contentious question of the past. Martin McCleery is a research fellow with the School of Politics Queen's University Belfast.
Tonight The Pensive Quill carries an article by Eamonn McCann originally published in the Irish Times
The contradiction that ran through the Provisional movement explains the anger of Gerry Adams’s accusers.
Why Disillusioned Republicans Breached IRA’s Code of Secrecy
"The things we have in common from our past, long past, are often in my mind.
Now that it is all over bar the final destruction of the weapons
I look forward to the freedom to lay bare my experiences
unfettered by codes now redundant.
This is the only freedom left to me and those Republicans of like mind."
— Dolours Price, 2005
Former Hunger Striker Gerard Hodgins, writing on behalf of the Family and Friends of Brendan Hughes, responds to comments made by Gerry Adams on Darragh MacIntyre’s documentary on The Dissappeared
Brendan Hughes was an honest and decent human being. His life was spent in the service of his people.
Guest writer Tony O'Hara with a piece about a poem he wrote while on the blanket protest in the H Blocks.
These days I tend to view the box for my horror fix. Along with my son we are Walking Dead aficionados. Once when asking him if he wanted to go to a Drogheda game or a Zombie festival in town he told me he was both soccer mad and zombie mad and that the choice was a hard one to make, imploring me to make it for him. Point of this meandering is to draw attention to a horror history.
Guest writer Thomas Dixie Elliot a former H Block blanket prisoner pulls together a few points from the past that lend themselves to a different take from that being offered in the Sinn Fein narrative.
"Throughout the past week I have been reflecting back on that traumatic week 20 years ago.
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| Cartoon by John Kennedy |
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