In December 2012, New Island and RTÉ Radio One’s ARENA launched the first on-air creative writing course. The course took place on the first week of each month until June 2013. Writer and creative writing teacher Dave Lordan led the course, each month offering a new writing prompt to listeners who would submit material based using that prompt as inspiration. This book contains the best of those submissions.PLANET CABARET will be launched at – where else? – the Gutter Bookshop, Temple Bar, Dublin, at 6.30pm on Friday evening, November 22nd.
To accompany them, ARENA has specially commissioned pieces by a host of emerging Irish writing talent producing a completely novel and enjoyable anthology that presents the best of up and coming Irish writing talent.
Dave Lordan is a writer and editor living in Dublin. His most recent collection, THE FIRST BOOK OF FRAGS, was published in April, 2013. ARENA is RTÉ Radio One’s flagship arts and pop culture show. It broadcasts every weekday from 7-8pm.
Showing posts with label Arena. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Arena. Show all posts
Friday
Life Is A Cabaret, Old Chum
I have a short story included in the anthology NEW PLANET CABARET (New Island), which is published in conjunction with RTÉ Radio One’s ARENA programme and edited by Dave Lordan. To wit:
Labels:
Arena,
Dave Lordan,
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New Planet Cabaret
Thursday
Nobody Move, This Is A Review: THE IMPOSSIBLE DEAD by Ian Rankin
Off with yours truly to RTE last Monday night, and the Arena arts programme, there to review Ian Rankin’s THE IMPOSSIBLE DEAD in the company of Sean Rocks. The audio of the review is available here, with the gist running thusly:
THE IMPOSSIBLE DEAD is the second in Ian Rankin’s series of novels about Malcolm Fox, who is a police officer with the Scottish Professional Ethics and Standards Department, which is the equivalent of internal affairs, colloquially known as ‘the Complaints’.
Inspector Malcolm Fox and his ‘Complaints’ team of Sergeant Tony Kaye and Constable Joe Naysmith are based in Edinburgh. The novel opens with their arrival in Kirkcaldy, Fife, where they have come to interview a police officer, Detective Paul Carter, who has been found guilty of misconduct after Carter’s uncle, himself a former police officer, blew the whistle.
Carter was convicted of asking for sexual favours, and generally threatening women, and Fox and the Complaints are in Fife to discover the extent to which Carter’s behaviour was covered up by his colleagues. On interviewing Paul Carter’s uncle, Alan Carter, Fox realises that the retired policeman is conducting an informal investigation into the suspicious death of a radical lawyer in the mid-1980s, this at the request of an Edinburgh-based solicitor. When Alan Carter is subsequently discovered dead, in what appears to be a suicide, Fox suspects a conspiracy and a cover-up, especially as the gun Carter uses to kill himself doesn’t officially exist …
It’s difficult to review an Ian Rankin novel without referring at some point to Inspector Rebus, so it’s probably best to get that out of the way first. I know many people will disagree, but I actually prefer Malcolm Fox to Inspector Rebus. He’s a far more balanced and nuanced character than Rebus, who was very much a black-and-white, us-versus-them kind of character.
When I read the first Malcolm Fox novel, THE COMPLAINTS, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of Fox. He seemed a milder version of Rebus, and I wondered why Rankin would offer the reader a similar kind of story, and investigator, while making his new protagonist less confrontational, and therefore less dramatic, character. I believed that Rankin could have challenged himself more, but it took THE IMPOSSIBLE DEAD to persuade me that that is exactly what Rankin did.
It’s probably fair to say, I think, that Malcolm Fox is a more difficult character to write than Rebus. Fox is a complex man, but he is essentially good-natured; he is also a team player, whereas Rebus was, as the conventions of the police procedural often demand, very much a loner. Moreover, the nature of Fox’s job - a cop investigating other cops - gives him a depth that Rebus’s job didn’t confer. Fox is not a crusader for a perfect police force; he understands that people are prone to making mistakes, and that cops are no less likely than civilians to fall foul of human faults and foibles. Neither does he set himself up as a shining example of what a policeman should be. In his personal life, Fox is as guilty of making mistakes as anyone else. By the same token, having been seconded to ‘the Complaints’, Fox is determined to do the best job he possibly can. If that means that he will earn the opprobrium of his peers for investigating their wrongdoing, then that is a price he is prepared to pay.
One of the most likeable aspects of the novel as a whole is its understated tone. One example: Fox and his team of Kaye and Naysmith. Most writers, with a team of three to fill out, would have made one of the team a woman, if only for politically correct reasons, and especially as the majority of crime fiction readers are women. Instead, Rankin gives us three relatively ordinary blokes who aren’t particularly sexist or politically correct, who enjoy friendly banter and pass their days in one another’s company with the minimum of friction and conflict. Given the pressure the trio are under, and especially as they are so despised by their peers, there’s an endearing quality to their understated mini-brotherhood.
That understated tone also extends to Rankin’s style. Here he writes in a pleasingly crisp, unfussy style, and seems content to allow the story emerge in what appears to be an organic fashion, rather than forcing the issue by giving proceedings a fake sense of urgency. The chapters unfold at a languid pace, and yet this belies the fact that there is plenty by way of drama and event being recorded.
One of the most fascinating aspects of the novel is its historical backdrop. According to Rankin, that backdrop is rooted in reality. When I interviewed Rankin recently , he had this to say:
By the same token, there are contemporary resonances to be taken from THE IMPOSSIBLE DEAD in terms of Northern Ireland, not least the fact that former paramilitaries wind up democratically legitimate and working in government.
Ultimately, I give THE IMPOSSIBLE DEAD a very warm recommendation, to existing Ian Rankin fans who have yet to take plunge into the Malcolm Fox series, and also to those wondering why Ian Rankin is so highly regarded. It showcases his ability to construct an intriguing police procedural plot and people it with believable and interesting characters, and to provide a page-turning entertainment while still investing his story with a thoughtful critique of contemporary society. - Declan Burke
THE IMPOSSIBLE DEAD is the second in Ian Rankin’s series of novels about Malcolm Fox, who is a police officer with the Scottish Professional Ethics and Standards Department, which is the equivalent of internal affairs, colloquially known as ‘the Complaints’.
Inspector Malcolm Fox and his ‘Complaints’ team of Sergeant Tony Kaye and Constable Joe Naysmith are based in Edinburgh. The novel opens with their arrival in Kirkcaldy, Fife, where they have come to interview a police officer, Detective Paul Carter, who has been found guilty of misconduct after Carter’s uncle, himself a former police officer, blew the whistle.
Carter was convicted of asking for sexual favours, and generally threatening women, and Fox and the Complaints are in Fife to discover the extent to which Carter’s behaviour was covered up by his colleagues. On interviewing Paul Carter’s uncle, Alan Carter, Fox realises that the retired policeman is conducting an informal investigation into the suspicious death of a radical lawyer in the mid-1980s, this at the request of an Edinburgh-based solicitor. When Alan Carter is subsequently discovered dead, in what appears to be a suicide, Fox suspects a conspiracy and a cover-up, especially as the gun Carter uses to kill himself doesn’t officially exist …
It’s difficult to review an Ian Rankin novel without referring at some point to Inspector Rebus, so it’s probably best to get that out of the way first. I know many people will disagree, but I actually prefer Malcolm Fox to Inspector Rebus. He’s a far more balanced and nuanced character than Rebus, who was very much a black-and-white, us-versus-them kind of character.
When I read the first Malcolm Fox novel, THE COMPLAINTS, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of Fox. He seemed a milder version of Rebus, and I wondered why Rankin would offer the reader a similar kind of story, and investigator, while making his new protagonist less confrontational, and therefore less dramatic, character. I believed that Rankin could have challenged himself more, but it took THE IMPOSSIBLE DEAD to persuade me that that is exactly what Rankin did.
It’s probably fair to say, I think, that Malcolm Fox is a more difficult character to write than Rebus. Fox is a complex man, but he is essentially good-natured; he is also a team player, whereas Rebus was, as the conventions of the police procedural often demand, very much a loner. Moreover, the nature of Fox’s job - a cop investigating other cops - gives him a depth that Rebus’s job didn’t confer. Fox is not a crusader for a perfect police force; he understands that people are prone to making mistakes, and that cops are no less likely than civilians to fall foul of human faults and foibles. Neither does he set himself up as a shining example of what a policeman should be. In his personal life, Fox is as guilty of making mistakes as anyone else. By the same token, having been seconded to ‘the Complaints’, Fox is determined to do the best job he possibly can. If that means that he will earn the opprobrium of his peers for investigating their wrongdoing, then that is a price he is prepared to pay.
One of the most likeable aspects of the novel as a whole is its understated tone. One example: Fox and his team of Kaye and Naysmith. Most writers, with a team of three to fill out, would have made one of the team a woman, if only for politically correct reasons, and especially as the majority of crime fiction readers are women. Instead, Rankin gives us three relatively ordinary blokes who aren’t particularly sexist or politically correct, who enjoy friendly banter and pass their days in one another’s company with the minimum of friction and conflict. Given the pressure the trio are under, and especially as they are so despised by their peers, there’s an endearing quality to their understated mini-brotherhood.
That understated tone also extends to Rankin’s style. Here he writes in a pleasingly crisp, unfussy style, and seems content to allow the story emerge in what appears to be an organic fashion, rather than forcing the issue by giving proceedings a fake sense of urgency. The chapters unfold at a languid pace, and yet this belies the fact that there is plenty by way of drama and event being recorded.
One of the most fascinating aspects of the novel is its historical backdrop. According to Rankin, that backdrop is rooted in reality. When I interviewed Rankin recently , he had this to say:
“It’s based on a real case. The lawyer found dead in his car is absolutely accurate, it happened in 1985, although in the real-life case he was a Glasgow-based lawyer rather than an Edinburgh lawyer. His name was Willie MacRae. And all that stuff in the book, the Dark Hand Commando, the letter-bombs, the anthrax - that’s all taken from the newspapers of the time.”Despite the sectarianism of the Celtic-Rangers football clashes, we don’t normally associate Scotland with extreme nationalism, and certainly not with paramilitary terrorism. THE IMPOSSIBLE DEAD offers a glimpse of a time and place not so far from Northern Ireland in the 1980s, and suggests - explicitly, at one point - that the situations weren’t all that different. The real difference, Rankin suggests, is that the Scottish equivalent(s) of the Irish paramilitary groups were far less organised and ruthless, and were quickly infiltrated by British secret services and Special Branch.
By the same token, there are contemporary resonances to be taken from THE IMPOSSIBLE DEAD in terms of Northern Ireland, not least the fact that former paramilitaries wind up democratically legitimate and working in government.
Ultimately, I give THE IMPOSSIBLE DEAD a very warm recommendation, to existing Ian Rankin fans who have yet to take plunge into the Malcolm Fox series, and also to those wondering why Ian Rankin is so highly regarded. It showcases his ability to construct an intriguing police procedural plot and people it with believable and interesting characters, and to provide a page-turning entertainment while still investing his story with a thoughtful critique of contemporary society. - Declan Burke
Portnoy’s Not Complaining
It’s fair to say it’s been a busy couple of months for Arlene Hunt. Not only has she published her latest offering, THE CHOSEN, but she and her husband decided to bypass the traditional publishing route to set up their own publishing company, Portnoy Publishing (and no, it’s not a Philip Roth reference). Happily, all the hard work seems to be paying off: THE CHOSEN is the ‘Book of the Month’ for TV3’s Ireland AM book club, which is fantastic exposure for the book, Arlene and Portnoy. The good news for readers is that there’s more than a terrific read in prospect if they get involved. If you pen a review of THE CHOSEN and submit it to Ireland AM, you’ll be in with a chance of winning a laptop. Nice. For all the details, clickety-click here …
Meanwhile, Arlene was on RTE’s Arena arts programme recently, talking with presenter Sean Rocks about THE CHOSEN, and the decision to go it alone set up her own publishing company, despite the fact that she’d been published for many years previously by one of Ireland’s most respected publishing houses. Given all the yakkity-yak about the future of publishing and the changing dynamic of the relationship between authors and publishing houses, it makes for fascinating listening. Clickety-click here for more …
Saturday
DOWN THESE GREEN STREETS: The Irish Times Speaks!
I wasn’t expecting the reviews to start coming through so soon - and as always, you half-expect that your book won’t be reviewed at all - but today’s Irish Times carries a review of DOWN THESE GREEN STREETS (Liberties Press), written by David Park, with which I am well pleased. The gist runneth thusly: “HEINOUS CRIMES have been committed the length and breadth of Ireland, and even farther afield. Crimes that would make the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Crimes committed by smiling serial killers, dead-eyed psychopaths, low-life gangsters and those who thought themselves soldiers or even avenging angels. Too many crimes to count. Now what looks indisputably like a body has emerged. Some literary pathologists suggest it stems from the mid-1990s; others say it bears a much older history. DOWN THESE GREEN STREETS: IRISH CRIME WRITING IN THE 21st CENTURY, under the skilled editorship of Declan Burke, reveals the full story of this body and offers thought-provoking theories about its origins, identity and future.So there you have it: ‘thought-provoking … entertaining … wonderful collection’. We thank you kindly, Mr Park. For the full review, clickety-click here …
The body in question is no decaying corpse but a flourishing school of work that generically gets labelled as crime fiction. A new generation of writers has emerged in the past 10 years, with Gene Kerrigan, Arlene Hunt, Alan Glynn, Declan Hughes, Brian McGilloway, Adrian McKinty, Ken Bruen, Jane Casey and a seemingly endless host of other authors joining the likes of John Connolly and Colin Bateman. Declan Burke, author of EIGHTBALL BOOGIE, THE BIG O and ABSOLUTE ZERO COOL, and creator of a lively blog called Crime Always Pays, has assembled a thoroughly entertaining miscellany of essays, interviews, short stories, memoir and first-hand perspectives that offers intriguing insights into the genre, including excellent pieces on film and theatre […]
“John Connolly believes the future challenge for Irish crime writing is how to find a place on the international stage and “how to create a uniquely Irish form of the genre without losing sight of the universal”. The energetic, passionate voices evident in this wonderful collection suggest that this is a challenge Irish crime writers, the trawlers and scribes of our mean streets, might well have the talent to meet.” - David Park
Incidentally, last week RTE’s radio arts programme Arena interviewed yours truly and Declan Hughes on the subject of GREEN STREETS in particular and Irish crime writing in general. If you’re interested, the podcast can be found here …
Wednesday
Better The Devlin You Know
Here’s a Big Q that’s not very relevant in the grand scheme of things … Can an author’s voice change the way you read his or her books? I’m not talking about their authorial voice, but their actual, y’know, voice. If Lee Child, say, had a fey, high-pitched tone with a lisp, and you heard him giving a reading, would that impact on how you ‘heard’ Jack Reacher when reading his novels? I ask because Brian McGilloway is on RTE’s Arena arts show tonight (Wednesday, May 12th), yakking it up about his latest offering, THE RISING. Now, Donegal-based Brian is a mild-mannered teacher by day, and an equally mild-mannered crime writer by night, and his series protagonist, Inspector Benedict Devlin, is for the most part a mild-mannered Donegal cop. As it happens, I don’t hear Brian’s voice when I’m reading the Devlin novels, but it would be entirely appropriate if I did. Having heard James Ellroy perform in Belfast last year, on the other hand, will dramatically impact on how I ‘hear’ his characters next time I dip into an Ellroy novel.
Anyone have any glaring mismatches between an author’s voice and how their characters sound?
Meantime, there’s some nice reviews of THE RISING here, here and plenty more here. If you haven’t caught up with Brian McGilloway yet, THE RISING is the perfect place to start …
Labels:
Arena,
Brian McGilloway,
Inspector Devlin,
Jack Reacher,
James Ellroy,
Lee Child,
The Rising
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