“Declan Burke is his own genre. The Lammisters dazzles, beguiles and transcends. Virtuoso from start to finish.” – Eoin McNamee “This bourbon-smooth riot of jazz-age excess, high satire and Wodehouse flamboyance is a pitch-perfect bullseye of comic brilliance.” – Irish Independent Books of the Year 2019 “This rapid-fire novel deserves a place on any bookshelf that grants asylum to PG Wodehouse, Flann O’Brien or Kyril Bonfiglioli.” – Eoin Colfer, Guardian Best Books of the Year 2019 “The funniest book of the year.” – Sunday Independent “Declan Burke is one funny bastard. The Lammisters ... conducts a forensic analysis on the anatomy of a story.” – Liz Nugent “Burke’s exuberant prose takes centre stage … He plays with language like a jazz soloist stretching the boundaries of musical theory.” – Totally Dublin “A mega-meta smorgasbord of inventive language ... linguistic verve not just on every page but every line.Irish Times “Above all, The Lammisters gives the impression of a writer enjoying himself. And so, dear reader, should you.” – Sunday Times “A triumph of absurdity, which burlesques the literary canon from Shakespeare, Pope and Austen to Flann O’Brien … The Lammisters is very clever indeed.” – The Guardian

Monday, June 8, 2009

One Of These Kids Is Doing His Eoin Thing

I had the very great pleasure of meeting with Eoin McNamee (right) over the weekend, a damn fine writer and a pretty good bloke to boot. Like his fellow Norn Ironer, Adrian McKinty, McNamee writes in a number of disciplines – lit-type crime narratives such as RESURRECTION MEN, THE BLUE TANGO and 12:23, thrillers under the pseudonym John Creed, YA novels (the latest of which is available now), and short stories. He’s even published a collection poetry, although I don’t hold that against him, and neither should you.
  He’s modest, too. I met him on Saturday afternoon in the fine hostelry of O’Connor’s of Ballisodare, in Sligo, for a dry sherry and light banter, during the course of which he entirely failed to mention that he’s been shortlisted by Richard Ford for the Davy Byrne’s Irish Writing Award (Short Stories), the winner of which will scoop a rather tasty €25,000. Mind you, the odds are stacked against him, given that he’s the only bloke up against five ladies … The Irish Times has all the details.
  Anyway, the point of meeting McNamee was to harangue him into finishing the essay he’s promised me for DOWN THESE GREEN STREETS. Which he has now sworn to do, once he finishes off the novel and two screenplays he’s currently working on … Actually, part of the reason for meeting him was to find out exactly what the essay was about – the fact that McNamee lives in deepest, darkest Sligo means that the communications technology isn’t everything it should be. When he told me, I was bowled over – it’s a terrific idea, and possibly controversial, and one that’s sure to toss a pigeon or two among the cats when it sees the light of day.
  Anyway, as I mentioned in passing last week, we’ve had a very strong nibble from a publisher interested in bringing DOWN THESE GREEN STREETS to market, which is all kinds of good news. For those of you unaware of what DTGS is, it’s a collection of essays, articles, interviews and short stories by Irish crime writers on Irish crime writing, and is a veritable Who’s Who of contemporary Irish crime writing, to wit:
Michael Connelly: a brief introduction.
Professor Ian Ross of Trinity College, Dublin: an in-depth introduction on the history of the crime narrative in general, and Irish crime writing in particular.
John Connolly: the Irish Gothic novel as a precursor to the crime novel.
Ruth Dudley Edwards: the proto-crime novels of Liam O’Flaherty.
Alan Glynn: literary crime narratives, from Flann O’Brien to John Banville.
Paul Charles: crime and punishment in Camden Town, London.
John Banville: interview on the crime narratives of John Banville and Benjamin Black.
Declan Hughes: the influence of American culture on Irish crime writing.
Gene Kerrigan: Irish crime fiction and its relationship with real crime.
Arlene Hunt: the urban-rural divide in Irish crime writing.
Colin Bateman: ‘Divorcing Jack’, and comedy crime writing in ‘Troubles’ Belfast.
Adrian McKinty: an account of Northern Ireland crime writing, 1940s-1990s.
Gerard Brennan: an account of post-‘Troubles’ crime narratives in Northern Ireland.
Alex Barclay: a short story.
Brian McGilloway: crossing the line – borders in Irish crime narratives.
Tara Brady (film critic): crime narratives in Irish cinema.
KT McCaffrey: crime narratives in Irish theatre.
Ken Bruen: a short story / movie in three acts.
Cormac Millar: the forerunners of the current crime-writing generation.
Neville Thompson: an odyssey through the mean streets.
Niamh O’Connor: true crime writing and journalism.
Eoin McNamee: the Puritan soul and Irish noir.
Tana French: interview on crime fiction and the post-Celtic Tiger Irish identity.
Cora Harrison: setting and history in the Irish crime narrative.
Declan Burke: lost classics of Irish crime fiction.
  Given the way these things tend to pan out, I’ve no doubt details will change. Still, that’s the general gist, and I’m seriously looking forward to seeing it on the shelf …


Donna said...

Oooooh - sounds great Dec.

Peter Rozovsky said...

That's tantalizingly good news. Perhaps I'll have my copy autographed by as many contributors as I can.

Declan Hughes will no doubt speak for many of his fellows when he discusses American influences. I'll also be interested to see what a woman of Ruth Dudley Edwards' political persuasion has to say about Liam O'Flaherty, some of whose revolutionary characters were anything but heroic. Your man Eoin McNamee's contribution looks to be fascinating, too. And I wonder if you and McKinty will clash over the quality of early Irish crime fiction.

I hate to dissipate the sobriety this occasion calls for, but my verification word is humpin.
Detectives Beyond Borders
“Because Murder Is More Fun Away From Home”

adrian mckinty said...

Wait just a goddamn minute...we were allowed to do short stories?!!

Nice use of Sesame Street punnage there. I bow to the master.