Limerick born author Kevin Barry published his first collection of short stories, There are Little Kingdoms, earlier this year. The collection subsequently won the Rooney prize for Irish Literature. Available to buy in Limerick from O Mahonys, Easons or from book website
Irish writing for all its sparkle has tended to excel in certain types
of form and content with vast swathes of the Irish experience remaining
under-written. Kevin Barry’s powerful collection of stories leaps into two of
these voids. It’s hard to believe now that it was still relatively unfurrowed
ground when Patrick Kavanagh saw the poetry in “steaming dung hills” the 1920s,
given that two thirds of the population lived there. Or that the people of the
West of Ireland were such an oddity to Synge and his fellow cultural
revivalists. With a few notable exceptions the Irish have continued to write
from within The Pale. And coming from a small non-descript town east of the
Shannon it is easy to think there is nothing to write about. Is that also why
the naughties have been so badly neglected? Are we just too close to them, or with
their lifestyle stores, roadworks and beauty salons are they also inherently
prosaic?
Although a couple are set in Limerick, the strongest stories deal with
these blandest of times in small, dull towns. Not only are the characters
original and engaging but he finds the misery, humour and mystery in them. He gives
us “site farmers”, “disco Guinness”, student parties after a night at “Sex
Kitchen” and swingers that are turning their hand to organic farming. Inevitably
booze-soaked, the stories capture exquisitely a kind of dystopia where the
values of the past run headlong into present day norms taking refuge in meaningless
sex, inferior drugs and eerie monotony. It is in the small asides that the real
humour emerges – Edward who was stretched by the car and tractor to get into
Templemore (before the shortage of course), Kelleher’s pub just shy of a third
alcoholic to keep it in business, Foley, sacked from Texaco after seventeen
years because they started fucking around with croissants and Dennis who found
life very hard because you couldn’t take a spanner to it. Most effectively of
all he gets the geography of south midlands towns, the “nothing-much and
unimpressive streets”, the ribbon development and dreary establishments such as
“hair affair” and the “uptown grill”.
The sheer force with which new and easy money came hot on the heels of
what seemed like interminable recession means it has often not blended well
with people who grew up with different expectations. Those most affected by this were those that had least to begin
with, and the story of modern Ireland is therefore not about aspiring
suburbanites. Rural Ireland still carries with it the ways and traditions of
the past that cannot thankfully be converted into apartments. There are Little Kingdoms gets the
subtly of this collision across.
Above all, the stories are hilarious. With a nod to Flann O’Brien it is
a relief to see that the tradition of self-deprecation and satire is alive and
well. This collection is for dipping into and savouring, as they don’t come
like this very often.
Eilis Ni Leathlobhair
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