The Féile an Phobail saw another side of Sinn Féin president Gerry Adams when he talked about his literary aspirations, writes Dan Keenan, Northern News Editor

President of Sinn Féin he may well be, but alongside his other roles as West Belfast MP and member of the Northern Ireland Assembly, Gerry Adams has also written 10 books including an autobiography.

It was this aspect of his character to which the Féile an Phobail 2002, the West Belfast Festival, turned its attention yesterday. And it was an all-too-rare glimpse, one which he found "very refreshing", of the folksy Gerry Adams.

Interviewed by the BBC's Annie McCartney, Adams took us casually on a nostalgic tour of the things that fashioned the man we know - or think we know - today. If indeed interview is the right word - fireside chat was certainly nearer the mark.

Although he appeared almost studiously casual, immaculately groomed as ever, before the packed and humid room at the Glenowen Hotel, this experience amounted to a flashback to Gerry Adams in his woolly jumper phase, long before politics called for a collar and tie. Street-cred was penny a pound.

Adams has written a series of "very modest" books (his words) with which he is, by varying degrees, unhappy. Only one, The Street, is singled out for particular mention.

His work reflects a warm, often witty, look back at the west Belfast which nurtured him, and, by inference, his outlook on Ireland and the wider world.

We were taken back to the days when kids in larger families were farmed out to the wider family circle for rearing. From there we revisited school and the Christian Brothers. Adams got slapped on his first day, the recounting of which earned a warm response from the crowd, eager for early evidence of the young rebel. Much of his recollection sounded like To School Through The Fields meets the red-brick streets of west Belfast.

A reading of his account of his own first confession, while funny and accessible, hardly seemed to break new ground. But it completed the picture of Belfast of the 1950s and life between the pillars of extended family, priests, school and the rules of the street.

It was at school that his "first rebellion" took place. It was prompted by lessons in history - other people's history - which he says had no association for him.

Correcting this imbalance by studying local history led to the discovery of the oral tradition of history and the blending of the academic subject with the recounted experience of elders. He spoke warmly of the place names and their Irish origins and how these fuse to produce the unique story of his city. At first he says he wrote defensively, to counteract those who were critical of Belfast. It is a theme he frequently touches upon.

His writing, almost as much as his political ethos, seems to emanate from experiences of a people finding themselves and discovering a clarity of purpose.

This was no solo run. There were hordes of writers' circles, he said, fed by the long tradition of story-telling.

He recounted his own reading - the comics and the children's novels by Enid Blyton and Richmal Crompton. By way of caustic contrast he read aloud his own version of a Blytonesque encounter on the streets. It came complete with Belfastisms such as "I'll kick your melt in" and provided the biggest laughs of the afternoon.

Amid the other tales of buying broken biscuits and trips to the local bakery for buns by the pillow-case, we were treated to a telling of the first teenage "lumber" (snog) with a girl - a Protestant from Moyard as it turned out.

But for all the humour, folksiness, warmth and nostalgia there was little about Adams the activist and how this interacts with Adams the writer. His autobiography has been criticised for what it didn't say i.e. his own "involvement", to use the preferred euphemism. Those gaps weren't filled in.

And so we left, certain as ever of our view of Adams the republican, and with something of an insight on Adams the writer. As for how the two feed off each other, we may have to await the completion of his current book on the peace process and the road that led to Good Friday 1998.