AN DEIREADH is Seamas MacAnnaidh's first novel since the completion of his Blackbird Trilogy and as such its publication can be considered a literary event. It is much shorter than any of his novels so far and would be best described as a domestic psycho thriller in the form of a diary. It is sinister and light hearted by turns.
The blurb, however, begins by asking "who dunnit?" with the result that, after the traditional polished and captivating mis enscene, this particular fan of classical English detective stories expected a body. The fact that none materialised for a considerable number of pages was somewhat tedious entertaining though they are, a parcel of old curtains is no substitute for the real thing.
However, in the last third of the book Mac Annaidh comes into his own. Like a practised racing driver who has had enough of the Sunday drive, he now ups the gear and moves deftly and effortlessly into the fast lane. "Diary", "story", "evidence", "authorship", are all brought into high relief in the final pages without the genre itself or its conventions being betrayed. Nor will I betray the convention of the who dunnit review, except to say that I am inclined to have another go at Trent's Last Case, or to give it its Irish title, Cas Deireanach Trent. We can only hope that in true Mac Annaidh style this book, called "The End", far from being his last case, is rather the auspicious beginning of a new line of investigation.
Another new beginning is the collection of short stories by the accomplished poet Greagoir O Duill, Mar Ata. The title of the book is unapologetically realist, professing to tell it "As It Is". The Dickensian realism of the first story enforces this claim but the atmosphere is somewhat dispelled by the more uncertain futurism and violence of the second.
Truth be told, this is an extremely varied collection, using different styles and techniques while sticking to the general principle of hard nosed realism. The subject matter ranges from suburban middle class, to working class Belfast, to rural Ireland, and to other places in between. The author experiments with the story telling voice, with varying degrees of success: the sophisticated raconteur, the scheming student, the departmental report, the neutral narrator, accounts in the first and second person.
Some of the stories are not so much short as abrupt. Indeed, the book is rather tightly packed. There are 26 stories with none more than six pages long. Some would have benefited from expansion while others have more the impact of poems and suffer from being followed immediately by another equally strong - and equally short - narration. With the story, "Rug Sean Chraobh Leis", for example, which is in the old style of Maupassant - writer meets stranger on bus who tells tale - we are just settling down to listen to a good yarn when, within a page, the story is over.
However this same convention - of O Duill's provides some wonderfully lyrical and at times moving moments: the observations of the couple house hunting in deserted rural cottages; the old uncle who plays the piano on a visit to his sister in a nursing home - the selection of music he plays is perfect, showing again that O Duill knows what he's talking about.
O Duill also seems to know what he's talking about with respect to the North of Ireland. The Troubles are never far away and are indeed central to some of the stories.
O Duill's insight here is valuable both for its understanding and its detachment, and, once again, lends weight to any claim inherent in the book's title.