Ten Books to Read Instead of "Say Nothing"
The first thing I did after I learned that there would be a drama based on Patrick Radden Keefe’s book, Say Nothing, on Hulu–after groaning, that is–was to tell Max about it. He also groaned.
Don’t you see, I said to him, I’m being given another opportunity to share the essay I wrote four years ago about the book. It’s back in the news again, and so many people will watch it! To which Max replied–and this is a direct quote, “Why don’t you fix it up and publish it on Substack. Just don’t talk to me about it.”
Whether you know Max or not, you’re probably thinking that sounds pretty harsh. Except that I absolutely deserve it. You see, I hated that book so much, and I could not stop talking about all of the reasons why (“the mein of a thug”--are you kidding me?). Max could handle it–I’m nothing if not opinionated and extremely chatty when I’m passionate about something. Ultimately I did not complete the essay and it seemed like the moment where I could have published a review passed.
Which brings us to the present. After learning of the television series, I thought great, I can do this and get it off my chest. Except I found, after reading my draft, that I have such deep knowledge and understanding of both the history of the Irish political conflict and of the communities most impacted by the violence, that many of the things that bothered me about the book went right over the heads of the people I tried to talk to about it.
All of this is to say that I do still plan to share my thoughts on the book, but lest I allow myself to get bogged down in the details while another five years passes, I thought I would begin by sharing a list of suggested books for people who are interested in the conflict by writers with a greater depth of knowledge of Irish history–most of whom were directly impacted.
The Disappeared of Northern Ireland’s ‘Troubles’ by WAVE Trauma Centre
Apologies for starting with a book that’s out of print, but this might be the best place to look for an account of the impact of the disappearance of Jean McConville, as told by her son Michael. The book tells the stories of families of the disappeared–those who endured the losses of their loved ones, many of whom are still waiting for information on what happened to their relatives and where they are buried. If reading Say Nothing or watching the tv show makes you feel any kind of way about what happened to Jean or her family, you might want to consider making a donation to the WAVE Trauma Centre (who published this book), a charity organization that supports victims & survivors of the conflict and who works with many of the families of the Disappeared.
Bear In Mind These Dead by Susan McKay
Another book which focuses on the loss of loved ones as told by their friends and family members. This is a good place to start if you’re the history of the conflict (Say Nothing might be the first book you’ve read on the topic, for example ), as it mostly follows the course of the conflict from the mid-60s through the peace process. McKay has also written a couple of fascinating books about Ulster Protestants if you’re really looking to enrich your knowledge of the religious and cultural dynamics (and perspectives) of that population.
A State in Denial: British Collaboration with Loyalist Paramilitaries by Margaret Urwin
Really the go-to book if you’d like to learn more about the level of British collaboration with loyalist paramilitaries during the conflict. Urwin’s book is incredibly well-researched and includes a remarkable paper trail of evidence linking the British security services to some of the most egregious killings (particularly in the 70s and 80s). The extent to which the British security services–with the knowledge of the highest echelons of the government–had their hands in sectarian murders (we’re talking everything from looking the other way, to providing target’s locations/personal information, to outright arming & hiring killers) is mind-blowing. This goes beyond other narratives which rely mostly on he said/she said arguments and establishes a pattern of behavior on behalf of the British state and its involvement in extrajudicial killings.
Lethal Allies: British Collusion in Ireland by Anne Cadwallader
Anne Cadwallader is an investigative journalist who in more recent years has been employed as a caseworker with the Derry-based Pat Finucane Centre, where she works with bereaved families to help uncover the circumstances in which their family members were killed during the conflict. Lethal Allies is a riveting book which tells the story of infamous “Glenanne gang,” a group of loyalist paramilitaries working in collaboration with the Royal Ulster Constabulary and the Ulster Defence Regiment (basically, police/security forces colluding with paramilitaries) to murder civilians, including farmers, publicans, and shopkeepers in Armagh and Tyrone in the 1970s.
The following books delve a bit more deeply into specific events and are written by victim-survivors or their family members:
On Bloody Sunday: A New History of the Day and Its Aftermath by Julieann Campbell
Bloody Sunday is perhaps one of the most well known massacres in Ireland during this time period, in which members of the British Army’s Parachute Regiment shot and killed 14 unarmed civilians during a Civil Rights march in January 1972. Just last week, a judge in Belfast said there was sufficient evidence to hold a murder trial for “Soldier F,” the first and only soldier who will stand trial for any of the killings that took place on that day more than fifty years ago. This trial has only come about because of the remarkable efforts by members of the Bloody Sunday families and their tireless campaign for justice. Campbell, whose uncle was killed on the day, provides an overview of what happened in 1972 and its lasting impact on the families and the city of Derry.
The McGurk’s Bar Bombing: Collusion, Cover Up, and A Campaign for Truth by Ciarán MacAirt
A month prior to the tragedy in Derry, fifteen people were killed at a family-owned bar called McGurk’s in Belfast when a member of the UVF, a loyalist paramilitary organization, detonated a bomb outside the door of the pub. Similar to Bloody Sunday, in which the victims were initially painted as armed, the official British statement issued after the bombing was that McGurk’s was an IRA “own goal;” in effect, the patrons at the pub were blamed for their own deaths, and the security services did not do a proper investigation. MacAirt, whose grandmother, Kathleen Irvine, was killed in the bombing, tells the story of what happened and the families who came together to clear their relatives’ names. Check out this article I wrote about the impact on families back in 2013. [Note: MacAirt runs an organization called Paper Trail, which provides specialized legacy archive research services to legal professionals. Are we sensing a theme here yet?]
The Dublin Monaghan Bombings: The truth, the questions, & the victims’ stories by Don Mullan &/or Two Little Boys: An Account of the Dublin & Monaghan Bombings and Their Aftermath by Edward O’Neill and Barry J. White
Thirty four people were killed, and hundreds more were injured when a series of bombs went off in Dublin & Monaghan town in May of 1974. Another tragedy targeting civilians–this time south of the border–which led to another group of family members joining together to campaign for justice. Justice for the Forgotten alleges that the Glenanne Gang (see Lethal Allies & A State in Denial above) was responsible for the atrocity, which was carried out by the UVF (see also McGurk’s Bar). Check out this article I wrote about the impact on families in 2017.
The Miami Showband Massacre: A Survivor’s Search for the Truth by Stephen Travers and Niel Fetherstonhaugh
Are showbands a uniquely Irish thing, or am I just young enough to have missed that craze stateside? Travers was the bass player for the Miami Showband, the most popular showband touring Ireland in the 70s. He and his bandmates were out on tour one evening when they stopped for what they believed was a British Army checkpoint; turns out it was a trap set by members of the UVF who were part of the notorious Glenanne Gang. When a bomb being loaded into the band’s van exploded prematurely, the perpetrators opened fire on the band members, killing everyone but Travers (who played dead) and one other man. [If this story sounds familiar, it may be because you’ve seen the Netflix special.]
War and Words: The Northern Ireland Media Reader, edited by Bill Rolston & David Miller
I would be remiss not to include at least one book in this list that tackles the thorny issue of reporting/journalism during war. Reading a book like this one is a really great way to get another lens on what happened during the Troubles; I generally love books written by journalists about their experiences working in the field.
There are also some really weird context-specific things about the north of Ireland that are worth knowing, such as the fact that from 1988 to 1994, the British government banned the voices of representatives of Sinn Féin, as well as some republican and loyalist groups, on television and radio broadcasts. Note that I wrote “voices;” many broadcasters were able to circumvent the law by having actors speak dub their statements. The actor Stephen Rea has voice-synced Gerry Adams in the past.
This might also be a good place to add that there is no such thing as objective journalism. Beyond the framing of a news story, every single piece of information that is included or not included–and particularly the voices who are included and not included–is a choice that is being made by a writer.
Milkman by Anna Burns
What can I say about a book of fiction which won the Booker Prize? I think I loved it for all of the reasons why so many readers who’ve never been to the north loved it. And yet, as someone who has spent a lot of time there, often as a young woman on her own, to me Burns’ narrative rang true in a way I can’t quite describe here. As a writer I think much of Burns’ success with this book was how true and real this atmosphere felt, how well she was able to capture a particular essence of one of Belfast' s real-life communities.
We all bring our unique selves and backgrounds to each book that we read, though, don’t we? I know I didn’t get the same experience reading Say Nothing as most Americans did, and that’s fine. But when we are talking about real things that have happened to real people–particularly in a post-colonial context which has yet to formally engage in a truth recovery process, I think we need to be more careful about how we tell the stories that need to be told, and whose voices we include in those stories.
