95 Books Like Policing Twentieth Century Ireland

In Dublin Hanged, Henry paints an evocative picture of the turn-of-the-eighteenth-century Irish capital collapsing under rising property crime, food shortages due to series of particularly inclement winters, and political unrest. He also vividly captures the events that led to the organisation of the first metropolitan uniformed police in the British Isles, which came to be widely unpopular. Henry shows, the organisation of the force was costly and in order to fund the new police, the household tax ‘skyrocketed’ virtually overnight. Henry’s analysis reveals there was a marked decline in the frequency of rape and violent assaults in the years following the introduction of the police in October 1786, indicating a degree of effectiveness of the new police despite the lack of its popularity.

The Irish Policeman, 1822–1922: A Life (2006), shines a spotlight on the men who made up the controversial Irish Constabulary, while providing an exhaustive historical narrative of the force from its inception in 1822 to disbandment in 1922, as mandated by the Anglo-Irish Treaty, article X. The book shows that a career with the Irish Constabulary, or Royal Irish Constabulary (RIC) post-Fenian Rising in 1867, was often the only viable alternative to migration as well as an accessible avenue for upward social mobility. The force offered stable pensionable employment and accommodation, and most of the duties were of a mundane police nature, except in times of political instability.

Inspector Mallon covers the latter decades of the nineteenth century in Dublin history, which were characterised by unrest, extremist violence, and police strikes. The late 1800s were also the service years of the celebrated Dublin Police detective John Mallon, ‘the Great Irish Detective’. The book explores the behind-the-scenes relationships between official Dublin and the force, and between the police and the political activists. McCracken examines the impact the Dublin detectives, known as G-men due to their work in the G Division, had on undermining the political threats and bringing known Fenians and members of the Invincibles, responsible for the horrific Phoenix Park murders, to trial.

It is not widely known that, like Dublin, Derry and Belfast were policed by their own municipal forces. The Belfast Police was responsible for preserving peace and order in the parts of the city which paid their rates. It looked after lighting, paving, and scavenging. Following sectarian violence and alleged police partisanship peaking in the riots of 1864 and 1869, Derry and Belfast forces were deemed inadequate in the face of rising public distrust.  In contrast to the Royal Irish Constabulary or the Dublin Metropolitan Police, which were headed by Commissioners, the Belfast police were under a single authority, the police board, until 1844, and a police committee thereafter – whose members, as Griffin aptly shows, gave ample reason for ongoing allegations of partisanship and corruption.

McGilloway writes a taut, intricate novel, his focus is on story and character.

We see an Ireland torn by the Troubles and how all this affects and plays into everyday life. His settings are concise and spare. Here is a novel with a strong and engaging protagonist who solves several disturbing murders by not giving in to outside pressures. A terrific read. 

A man is found stabbed to death. Garda Inspector Ben Devlin is shocked to learn that he’s heard of him. The victim has just been released from prison after spending twelve years inside. As a young lad he was jailed for the rape and murder of a teenage girl.

Devlin’s beliefs are tested when the current opinion is that the man got what was coming to him, but is that justice? Devlin doesn’t think so.

How to address the bloody past is constantly debated in Northern Ireland. The lawyers can’t get it right, nor the politicians or police. Yet this writer does. The book strips everything away and leaves, well, the bones. It’s a father-and-son story. The former, an ex-paramilitary, takes in the troubled latter. The prison veteran father has been trying to be better. The lovesick son is trying to be normal. Both remain curiously opaque, their stories not quite gelling. These are precision-hewn Troubles characters, murderer and son, never as disappointed in each other as they are with themselves. Theirs is a small house filled with history and filling up with paranoia and mistrust. And we learn it all via a prison diary. A mighty debut novel.

No one does dialogue and atmospheric tension like Tana French. Faithful Place is my favorite of hers.

I felt like the characters were so alive that I could hear their voices in my head long after I had closed the book. This story is rife with a gritty, urban Irish atmosphere and thick with familial tension. French does a cross between literary fiction and procedural that is devastating, at times quite dark, and yet ringing with hope—one of my favorite qualities in a mystery.

Best read on a dark, rainy afternoon with a mug of rich coffee—or a Guinness. 

The emergence of the violent phase of the conflict in Northern Ireland (euphemistically known as ‘The Troubles’) in the late 1960s has been subject to much debate over the years. But there is a danger that, given what happened once the violence erupted, its origins and their complexity have been obscured. 

Many now see the conflict as simply about which jurisdiction should have sovereignty over the region. I like that Bob Purdie’s book on the civil rights movement (CRM) brought nuance and complexity back into the debate. The tendency of some books to either downplay the CRM or portray it as just another facet of the constitutional/jurisdictional question is avoided (and indeed refuted) in this book.

Purdie encourages us to question the structures and politics of Northern Ireland before the violence started and to examine the relationship between the CRM and the violence that followed it. The book made me… show more.

There are a dozen reasons to read anything by Ken Bruen, but the best is this: His books are fun.

Unlike so many self-serious writers, Bruen never forgets that he’s writing for readers. And Bruen’s most compelling creation is Jack Taylor, a washed-up private investigator who always has a sharp comment, even when stuck in a scary situation. I read Bruen and find myself cackling just as often as I gasp.

This book, for younger readers, is a collection of retellings of some of Ireland’s most well-known stories like Oisín in Tír na nÓg, as well as less famous ones like Son of an Otter, Son of a Wolf. Doyle writes terrifically well, perfectly pitching his tales at a young audience. Illustrated by Niamh Sharkey in her distinctive style, this is a collection to be treasured. I loved the pronunciation guide for the Irish names, as well as the introduction and the page about Doyle’s sources.