FICTION: Peter Cunninghamreviews The Silence of the GlasshouseBy Martin Malone, New Island Books, 253pp. €11.95
WARS ARE senseless, brutish and ugly, none more so than civil wars. The Irish Civil War left open wounds that still gaped in Irish politics up to a few years ago. The shape of Irish politics, today dominated by two centre-right parties with few ideological, economic or philosophical differences, was formed by the split over the 1922 Treaty which led to Irish independence. Those who favoured the Treaty became government, those who opposed became "Irregulars". For almost a year, from June, 1922, the two sides fought a dirty, opportunistic war in which Michael Collins lost his life. Reprisals were commonplace.
Martin Malone's novel "is rooted in historical fact", the author says in an end note. "In December . . . seven anti-treaty troops were executed in the largest official execution ordered by the Irish government". Malone tells the story partly from the point of view of Chalky White, an 18-year-old, raw youth from Kildare town, who is caught up in fighting on the side of the Irregulars without any clear idea of what he is doing or why. The action seen by Chalky and his mates involves firing under cover of darkness into trains carrying government troops crossing the Midlands, and robbing shops. These wet-behind-the-ears yet deadly lads rendezvous one night in a lonely country house in which they have constructed a concealment hole from which there is no escape. Acting on a tip-off, government soldiers raid the house and arrest the Irregulars, including Chalky. They are charged with having possession of post-amnesty guns and ammunition. They are sentenced to be executed by firing squad before Christmas.
MARTIN MALONE writes well and with a certain flourish that carries the reader forward to the stark conclusion. He tells the story from four different and overlapping points of view: that of Chalky; his mother, Breege; the army chaplain, Father Pat; and Captain Arthur Kearney, a National Army intelligence officer, stationed in the Curragh.
Using four different voices in the course of a short novel is a risky device, since it asks loyalty of the reader not once but four times. Martin Malone does not fall into the trap of being over-sentimental in setting out the fate that awaits Chalky, or in describing the unbearable grief of Breege. That the human spirit cannot accept the inevitability of death, even when faced directly by it, is once again proven. Neither does Father Pat get elevated or sanctified, but in the novel's most realised characterisation, is shown to be hapless, powerless and very human when caught up in events he cannot alter or control.
The Silence of the Glasshouse is a lively, engaging novel that shows how futile the Civil War was, and how it impacted on the lives of simple people who deserved better from their local leaders, their government and their country.
• Peter Cunningham is a novelist. His latest novel is The Sea and the Silence