Showing posts with label Ireland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ireland. Show all posts

Wednesday, 3 January 2001

Peter Tremayne: Act of Mercy (1999)

Edition: Headline, 2000
Review number: 703

The seventh Sister Fidelma mystery is to be the last, as far as I am concerned. I had hoped that with the setting moved away from Ireland the novel would be an improvement on the previous couple in the series, which had got into something of a rut. It is better, but not sufficiently so for me to continue with the series.

Fidelma sets sail for Santiago on a pilgrimage to the shrine of St James. This was not the massively important place it would become in the later Middle Ages, after a vision had revealed the presence of the body of the saint, but there are apparently records of Irish pilgrims travelling there at the date when the series is set. (This is mentioned in the rather defensive foreword.) However, one of her fellow travellers goes overboard during a storm, and evidence comes to light to show that this was murder.

Characterisation is sketchy; the background is far too clean. (Tremayne's picture of seventh century Ireland seems to have been strongly influenced by the romanticised picture of Celtic history fashionable in the late nineteenth century as part of the Celtic Revival.) Act of Mercy is poorly written and the mystery is unconvincing.

Friday, 18 February 2000

Peter Tremayne: The Monk Who Vanished (1999)


Edition: Headline, 1999
Review number: 440

The latest Sister Fidelma mystery shows no real signs of improvement, having the same plot once again. This time the threat to her brother Colgu's throne is an all out assassination attempt in his capital at Cashel rather than a dark plot in the corners of the kingdom of Muman (better known by its Viking name of Munster). There are distinct signs of cheating, as when Fidelma looks at a sword and says that its use of animal teeth is a speciality of the art of one of the Irish kingdoms but she can't remember which one. Surely that's not the way that people remember things; she might more plausibly realise that there's something special about the sword but not be sure what it is.

All the real interest, all the character development, comes in the epilogue; at last something changes in her relationship with the Saxon Eadwulf; at last she might leave Muman and go somewhere new. But none of this is prepared; it all comes as a surprise. Thus, the next Sister Fidelma novel might be worth reading, but if it isn't I'll finally give up on the series.

Tuesday, 15 February 2000

Tony Hawks: Round Ireland With A Fridge (1998)


Edition: Ebury, 1998
Review number: 437

Tony Hawks once did a comedy show in Ireland, and saw the bizarre sight of someone hitch-hiking with a fridge as though this were a perfectly normal thing to do. Telling this to a group of friends back in England led to a drunken bet that he could hitch-hike all the way around Ireland in under a month, with a fridge.

The story of the journey is amusing, but the reaction he gets is much what you would expect, bemused but genial helpfulness. There are no real surprises.

Hawks decided to go round the Republic only, omitting Northern Ireland, for reasons which derive from the Troubles. Because of the impression gained from thirty years' worth of TV news coverage, the average English person has the idea that Northern Irish life is only about bombs and punishment beatings. When he had to travel into Armagh, he did end up in one of the more intimidating parts of Northern Ireland, among "Beware of Snipers" signs and sectarian graffiti, and this served to strengthen this opinion. I was actually living in Northern Ireland at the time of Hawks' trip, and my impression was very different. The people are really friendly, in a way which is no longer seen in England, even though the community is so divided; the grim towns (full of houses built in dark stone in depressing styles) contrast with beautiful countryside - the lakes of Fermanagh, the Antrim coast and Giant's Causeway, the Sperrin mountains.

Friday, 24 September 1999

Peter Tremayne: Valley of the Shadow (1998)


Edition: Headline, 1998
Review number: 334

The Sister Fidelma mysteries seem to be beginning to fall into a familiar pattern as the series grows in length. She goes to a remote corner of her brother's kingdom of Muman (better known by its later name of Munster) to a suspicious and insular community. There, murders happen, often linked to a threat to her brother's rule, and Fidelma overcomes local opposition to solve the mystery. The variety of settings used in the earlier books - different parts of Ireland, Whitby, Rome - has disappeared. The character of Fidelma has settled into an opportunity for Tremayne to repeat again and again his point that seventh century Ireland was an immensely civilised place. Her enlightened attitude is always on display, emphasised by the astonishment it causes in those around her - especially her Saxon friend Eadwulf.

None of these criticisms stop the Sister Fidelma mysteries being interesting and entertaining detective novels, but it is perhaps time that Tremayne made a bit more effort again.

Thursday, 26 November 1998

Peter Tremayne: The Subtle Serpent (1996)

The Subtle Serpent coverEdition: Headline, 1996
Review number: 174

By the fourth of Tremayne's Sister Fidelma novels, she is well-established in the affections of fans. Having a female detective in a medieval crime novel is rather unusual, given the general attitude to women in the period. Fidelma is hardly a normal woman, being a king's sister, a nun, and a highly trained advocate in the Irish courts. Although Tremayne continually emphasises the humanity of traditional Irish law - particularly as a contrast to its rival Roman church law - I find it a little unconvincing. I don't know much about sixth century Irish life (and the blurb does say that Tremayne is an expert), but no matter how humane the legal code was, I suspect it was considerably less so in practice. The whole setting appears to be considerably idealised, though as I know much more about Ireland after the Viking raids which are supposed to have severely damaged the country's economy according to some sources, it may well have been a much richer place than the squalid barbarianism reported from later on in the Middle Ages.

The recurring characters are well-drawn and charming, the puzzles are actually quite difficult, and they are written in a pleasant prose style.

In this particular novel, Sister Fidelma is summoned to investigate the discovery of the headless, naked body of an unknown woman, found in the well of an abbey with a cross tied to one hand and a pagan curse to the other. All is not well in the abbey; its imperious abbess, Draigen, has a great hatred of her brother Adnár, who is the local secular authority. He and his spiritual adviser, Febal, in turn make accusations about her. When Fidelma discovers that Febal was once Draigen's husband - the story is set before the Irish chuch really accepted the supremacy of Rome, and before even the Roman Catholic church ordered its priests and nuns to be celibate - she realises that there is a long history of problems at the abbey. With the death of a second victim, the abbey's librarian Síomha, and the near lynching of a disabled nun as a witch believed to have caused the deaths by magic, Fidelma realises that this is a mystery which must be solved quickly.