It is difficult for a man or woman who has in the past dedicated themselves to a movement to offer an account which departs from or goes beyond the organization’s line: too big a slice of the heart and soul has been given away.

In his account of Irish Republican imprisonment–a great deal of it first hand–sometime hunger striker Laurence McKeown does not quite break out of the gravitational field of his politics. Continuing attachment to a cause is however sufficiently balanced by an instinctive independence to distinguish this memoir from the run of the mill party-liners.

Certainly well worth a read. 

I am sometimes put off by ‘big’ sprawling works of history, that cover hundreds of years in hundreds of pages and may end up sitting on my shelf both goading and embarrassing me for my failure to do them the courtesy of finishing them. (Although admittedly, maybe looking good when people pop around!).

Paul Bew’s engaging examination of over 200 years of Irish history is an exception to this. Written by one of Ireland’s most eminent historians, it manages to combine academic rigor with accessibility (no mean feat). Bew offers a survey of the development and course of conflict in Ireland as well as an analysis of the decisions (and mistakes) made by key leaders along the way.

It covers a period much longer than the years Northern Ireland has existed as a political entity, but I found the analysis helpful in explaining its emergence and development.

The author of this fascinating book was an intelligence officer in a unit of the Provisional IRA, in the town of Newry in Northern Ireland, in the 1980s. Later, he broke under British interrogation and gave evidence against his former comrades. Though he later retracted the evidence, he was subsequently murdered, almost certainly by individuals linked to the republican movement. The book details the author’s reasons for joining the IRA, and his role in the movement’s armed campaign. Collins’s task was to seek out individuals linked in one way or another to British forces in the Newry area and then to facilitate their killing by the IRA. The book is written from a position of deep disillusionment with the campaign in which the author was engaged. It offers unique insight into some of the workings of this organization, and into the nature and motivations of the people involved.   

Ian Cobain’s writing style is fluid and his story of the real-life murder of Constable Millar McAllister by the IRA in 1978 reads like a bestselling crime novel.

The politically violent period between 1968 and 1998 is euphemistically referred to in Ireland as ‘The Troubles.’ A civil rights campaign in Northern Ireland’s divided society was hijacked by violent people on either side. Cobain, a British journalist, superbly sets the story of the killing in the political context of the time. He vividly describes the role each IRA member played in the murder and the consequences for them as individuals. If you are interested in Ireland, Irish politics, or would just like to comprehend the domestic terrorist war that was—‘The Troubles,’ Cobain’s account is riveting.

I was twenty-five and enraged at the self-pity and posturing dominating the Irish peace process. I was dying to write yet terrified of even attempting to say anything in print. And then, like a rogue rocket, Divorcing Jack arrived. A hilarious assault on Northern Irish sacred cows right at the bitter end of the bloody Troubles. A timely, wisecracking strike back at a place where being a self-important Muppet had become a job description. So… Dan Starkey, suspected of murdering a lover, stumbles through local fiefdoms to solve the crime himself. He was in places I knew, bars I drank in, saying things that needed to be said. Divorcing Jack started a train of thought that still runs in my mind, one that insists rules are for rulers, not writers. 

This book is the story of an incredible life. I love reading about service members who achieve great things after their time in uniform, especially when discussing how their service impacts their follow-on careers.

Daly has lived an amazing life from the frozen battlefields of Korea to the Kennedy administration. Daly’s journalism training is apparent in that he provides only the most important details and recollections from a life filled with incredible adventures.

This memoir was also written well after the events discussed which I feel is a requirement for a true reflective memoir.

Although best known for his A Social History of English Cricket (1998), The Willow Wand is, for me, Birley’s best cricket book. I imagine I’d have enjoyed Birley’s company for he not only writes with great humour, he understood exclusivity was not the same thing as quality and he burst the elitist bubble that had long surrounded the game in England by dissecting the game’s most treasured and fervently protected myths and personalities with forensic precision. 

Be it imperialism, the game’s most revered chronicler Neville Cardus or, even, the game’s premier icon W. G. Grace, Birley leaves no stone unturned, and he even alludes to the distinct regional identities that define the game in the North and South of England, which formed the basis of my own book.

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.

A completely getting history of the Troubles that complicates ideas of good and bad, heroes and villains, and makes you genuinely care about the people whose lives you are following.

One of the things I find fascinating about Northern Ireland is how ‘ordinary’ life continued to function in quite extraordinary circumstances. The travel writer, Dervla Murphy, who was from the south of Ireland, journeyed around Northern Ireland in 1976-1977, and this book is the record of that trip.

I like the complexity of opinions and attitudes she encounters and her own honesty about the impact these had on her thoughts on the conflict, the region, and its people. She embarked on the book as ‘shame out of repentance’ at her judgemental reaction to hearing ‘two of the more bone-headed Northern politicians arguing on the wireless.’

I found her accounts of meeting people on both sides of ‘the divide’ and their attitudes to each other, and to her, a thought-provoking reflection on the politics, society, and challenges of Northern Ireland in this dark period of the conflict.