darraghmartin

Future Popes of Ireland, my first novel for adults, will be published by Fourth Estate on Thursday August 23rd 2018. Here are some lovely reviews already in:

“The Dublin author’s ability to write with heart, humour and recognition make for an engrossing novel that tackles everything from religion to abortion, contraception to gay rights, the Fianna Fáil tent to the recession. That Martin manages to do this without ever sounding preachy shows his immense skill as a storyteller…Epic in scale and a pleasure to read, Future Popes of Ireland will have no problem finding its congregation.

(Sarah Gilmartin, The Irish Times)

Darragh Martin’s family history is set within Ireland’s see-saw social and political climate from the 1980s up to 2011. A sharp chronicler, you can practically smell the past as it wafts up at you from his pages. And while there’s tragedy, and outrage, too, there’s whipsmart satire and riotous comedy alongside a type of scholarliness that provides this novel with its zest and ingenuity. Think Zadie Smith. But much funnier.”

(Anne Cunningham, The Sunday Independent)

“It could be the story of any Irish family: the rifts that open up between people, and the silences that stand in the way of their reconciliation. Like so many of the stories that Irish people tell, it’s highly entertaining, clever and funny. It’s also, on another level, not funny at all.”

(Kathleen MacMahon, The Sunday Times)

“When the zealous restrictions are worn away and no longer there to prevent people being who they need to be, what is left? In Future Popes of Ireland, the answer is an untidy and achingly human mixture of shame, love, and apologies that don’t need to be uttered aloud. A meander through loves and lives and consequences brings us to this realisation. Stylish verve – short chapters (some abruptly so), structural playfulness – and astute characterisation piled on over decades, complete the effect. Martin’s novel never sits still. Things are always changing and always the same, much like the nation that plays a starring role in it.”

(Hilary A White, The Irish Independent)

Illustration by Euan Cook

I’m excited to share ‘Thumbelina Jellyfizz and the Elephant in the Bathroom’ which was commissioned by Free Word, Tipping Point, and Durham University as part of a new anthology of climate change stories. It is a dream to get paid to write about climate change, especially when farting elephants and junior detectives are involved and there are beautiful illustrations from Euan Cook.

If you want to check out this new story + the four other beautiful pieces, click here: https://www.freewordcentre.com/explore/realistic-utopias-writing

As I was compiling a list of my favourite villains in children’s lit it struck me that cats were often not the cuddliest creatures in children’s books. Despite their popularity when they play pianos or walk on treadmills, cats aren’t as beloved when they appear in children’s books.

Think of Snowbell, the sleek white cat who attempts to gobble up poor adorable Stuart Little and his birdy best friend. Or the sly cat in Watership Down that attacks Hazel the hero. The charming but fairly sinister when it comes down to it Cheshire Cat. Mrs. Norris in Harry Potter, prowling the corridors in search of student delinquency. Jupiter from The Deptford Mice, pretending to be a god to all the cute rodents. The evil cat in The Last Battle betraying Aslan, his feline brother and daring to think for himself. Shere Khan from The Jungle Book, the most terrifying of tigers.

Sure, there are some good cats (gentle Harry Cat in The Cricket in Times Square) and some cat anti-heroes who are kind of cool (The Cat in the Hat; Slinky Malinki) and there is also Crookshanks from Harry Potter (lovable furball to some, conniving Kneazle to others).

But it does strike me (from my highly scientific list) that cats are strangely villainous in children’s literature, either too close to adults (like Mrs. Norris) or too wickedly independent. Usually, being independent is good in children’s lit (can’t have too many adventures if you stay at home with the parents) but often there’s a limit imposed on this freedom, conditions of loyalty expected in return. Cats might mark out this boundary, creatures that unlike loving and loyal dogs are too independent, too selfish, too intent on eating cute birds and mice.

What’s with the anti-cat campaign? Have I got it all wrong? Cats, pick up your paws and change your image: YouTube loves you, maybe children’s literature can too…

Thanks to my sister, Gillian, for taking a couple of snaps of The Keeper at Dubray Books on Grafton Street, where it’s been selected as a Book of the Month and is the subject of a nice review:

“This is a thrilling, fast-paced novel that drags Irish legends into the present day and gives them a fresh, new spin. It’s ideal for readers aged ten and up.”

Check out the full review at Dubray’s website here.