Cover Feature
Crime fiction is one of the genres which Irish writers have taken to with gusto over the past few years, despite the dearth of writing in this area pre-ceasefire. Blogger, Gerard Brennan, takes a look at the new wave of Irish crime writers and examines how they differ from their predecessors...
The Wages of Sin…
“The degree of civilization in a society can be judged by observing its prisoners.” (Fyodor Dostoevsky)
Okay, I’m going to put my hand up and admit that I got this quote from the Hollywood movie Con Air. But regardless of the source of my learning, it did give me a little food for thought. Especially when I twisted it a little to suit my purpose.
Can we judge a society by looking at its prisoners/criminals? And what of the fiction inspired by them? Surely we can learn something about a culture from the crime fiction it produces? Well, if you don’t think so then you kill the premise of my article before it gets going. So humour me a little will you? I propose that crime fiction does indeed reflect social climate.
The first example I’ll cite is one of the loudest voices in Northern Irish crime fiction. Colin Bateman published Divorcing Jack in 1995. He portrayed Belfast as a troubled and turbulent city and although he took a few liberties with the politics of the province, it was very much an accurate reflection of Northern Irish society at that time. Divorcing Jack introduces us to Bateman’s oft recurring character, Dan Starkey. Seven books and ten years later and we meet an older and not-so-much-wiser version of Starkey in the novel Belfast Confidential. And the story kicks off with a very amusing skit on what it means to be from Belfast.
Starkey actually mourns a little for a time when introducing yourself as a Belfast man had connotations of hardness and danger. You were immediately branded a tough guy, even if you looked like an accountant. But times have changed and so have perceptions. It’s mostly a good thing, but I can identify with Starkey’s lamentations of a dying reputation. Plenty of times I’ve hammed up my accent in a London pub to warn off potential drunken opponents. It probably doesn’t hold the same threat nowadays, if it ever did, but a few years ago, it made me feel safer.
In I Predict a Riot (2007), most of Bateman’s characters are more concerned with getting on the property ladder, dining out in snazzy restaurants and buying chic designer clothing. But one of his characters is a high-ranking PSNI man who’d been with the force since the RUC days. By following his arc alone we can see how Bateman views our new post-Troubles climate. Superintendent “Marsh” Mallow still had trouble adjusting to the fact that he can go out for a meal without looking over his shoulder for furry-faced assassins. He’d led most of his life seeped in paranoia and his family life suffered for it. For him, change seemed to have come too late. He’s an anachronism, with no real purpose now that the new breed of cop walks, or worse, cycles the beat. But by the end of this madcap tale, even he found his own place in the ever-changing Northern Ireland. And if there’s hope for him...
Although Colin Bateman is arguably the godfather of NI crime fiction, there’s a new breed of writer exploding onto the scene, and each one brings their own perceptions to the table.
In Jason Johnson’s Woundlicker, Fletcher Fee is the microcosm of the frustration that the political stalemate in the mid-90s caused in many of us. Set in 2004, Fletcher loses the bap and deals out a violent brand of justice to political figures and paramilitary leaders.
Tony Bailie’s The Lost Chord is an Irish book that doesn’t even pay lip service to the politics of the North. His is a tale of Sex, Drugs and Rock & Roll. A mystery revolving around a fictional five-piece band and another indication that there are more stories to tell here beyond those that involve semtex and armalites.
Sam Millar gives us a bleak view of a hard city in Bloodstorm. But again, no real mention of paramilitaries in this Belfast tale. Millar deals in bad guys, mean cops and a messed up PI. Incidentally, Bloodstorm has been selected by the Belfast Telegraph and Eason’s as the book to mark the tenth anniversary of the Good Friday Agreement.
And we can’t forget Brian McGilloway. Currently I’m reading Borderlands, his debut novel. We’re introduced to Ben Devlin, a Garda Inspector heading a murder case on the border dividing Tyrone and Donegal. From what I’ve read so far, this is a police procedural story. McGilloway is more interested in the politics between the Garda Síochána and the PSNI than the governmental issues of the island.
And there’s more out there. Interested parties are advised to check out David Park’s The Truth Commissioner - an elegant examination of how we deal with our violent past as we try to move forward as a society; and there’s a fellow by the name of Adrian McKinty that I hear writes an excellent story. Keep a lookout for his novel, Dead I Well May Be. But let’s not stop there. I, for one, am keen to sample more of this huge talent from our small part of the world. And who knows, maybe you’ll be able to read something from a little known writer by the name of Gerard Brennan in the near future. He’s currently flogging a Belfast crime novel titled Piranhas. I hear it’s great!
If you’re interested in surfing this new wave of Northern Irish crime fiction, or offering your own recommendations and opinions, you’ll find more information on the genre at Gerard Brennan’s recently launched blog - Crime Scene NI. The blog is primarily devoted to the post-Troubles boom in Northern Irish crime fiction, and is also highly interested in all Irish, Euro and international crime fiction.
Visit www.crimesceneni.blogspot.com for crime fiction interviews, news and book reviews.
