Tell me about your new book, Father, Son and Brother Ghost.
It’s a meditation on the death of my brother, with whom I had a really close bond, and about my sometimes fractious relationship with my parents. It’s also a reflection on the deaths of three stillborn siblings and the resonance of their loss through the years.
There is a lot of loss and tragedy in the book, but a lighter side too.
I hope so – without darkness there’s no light.
You’d already written a memoir?
Things You Should Know, which was about a man of 40 and the things he’d done. As a man of 71, I see things more clearly, I hope.
You won a Jacob’s award for your radio documentary series on Leonard Cohen, How the Heart Approaches What It Yearns, and your memoir of your 30-year friendship, Absent Friend, was published last year. What was your relationship with him like?
It’s was another kind of fraternal relationship – comradeship Leonard called it, and I was humbled by his warmth and concern.
You were an RTÉ radio producer for more than 20 years. What were the highlights?
RTÉ was a wonderful place to work, full of creative people – as it still is. One short series stands out for me – Secret Gardens of the Heart. In the three programmes that made up that series, I had the privilege of working with a young woman, Jo Walsh, who was dying. The series followed her through the last months of her life.
You have written a biography of Ernest Shackleton and biographical novels about John Clare and Joseph, Jesus’s father. Do others’ lives fascinate you? Why these three in particular?
Shackleton was born close to where I grew up; John Clare’s life and work intrigued me. Joseph is a character with whom I have great sympathy – his role in the New Testament is a bit part but his importance in the Jesus story is quietly phenomenal and, as a stepfather, I can empathise.
You’ve written novels, short stories, plays and poetry. How do you find the different forms?
The novel is a full-length film; the short stories are photographs; the poem is an attempt to remember.
In 2020, you published I Knew This Place – a collection of more than 80 of your essay contributions to the RTÉ series Sunday Miscellany, and an audiobook version. What has that programme meant to you? Do you have a favourite essay?
Sunday Miscellany has been a window for me – writing is a solitary occupation but getting work out on to the airwaves, connecting with people through radio is really affirming. My favourite essay is about a boy who ran away from our village to join the carnival when he was 14 – it’s called Billy-o – and it’s a favourite because he became heroic to us as 10-year-olds.
[ Books in Brief: John MacKenna’s collection leaves its readers yearning for moreOpens in new window ]
Kildare is a strong presence in your work.
That landscape is a constant presence in my writing. Even when I’m not there, Castledermot and its hinterland are home to me.
New Island published your We Seldom Talk About the Past: Selected Short Stories in 2021. Did you see evolution in your work since your first collection in 1992?
I see a broadening of the canvas in those stories – even in their setting – from the local to the international. And yet, as I continue to write, I find myself drawn back towards the local.
Which projects are you working on?
I’m directing a play, The Girls in the Boat, written by my wife, Angela Keogh – a wonderful play about women who row together. And I’m working on a novel set in south Kildare in the great snows of 1963 and 2010.
Have you ever made a literary pilgrimage?
Yes, to John Clare’s grave.
What is the best writing advice you have heard?
It came from Robert Frost, via my friend Richard Ball: “I write to find out what I didn’t know I knew.” It’s wonderful advice – it opens the possibility of the writing journey.
Who do you admire the most?
Those who survive in spite of everything.
You are supreme ruler for a day. Which law do you pass or abolish?
I’d run a mile from that kind of power.
Which current book, film and podcast would you recommend?
I’m not a podcast listener. I absolutely loved That They May Face the Rising Sun – I’ve seen it three times. The book I’d recommend is not new – in fact it was originally published in 1973 – it’s The Worm Forgives the Plough by John Stewart Collis.
Which public event affected you most?
I’m affected every day by the casual horrors in Gaza and Sudan.
The most remarkable place you have visited?
The island of Hydra.
Your most treasured possession?
A chair given to me by my wife.
What is the most beautiful book that you own?
A well-thumbed copy of Raymond Carver’s All of Us – the beauty is in the poems.
Which writers, living or dead, would you invite to your dream dinner party?
Paul Durcan; Michael Gorman; HE Bates; Raymond Carver; Naomi Shihab Nye; Stan Barstow; Sylvie Simmons; Leonard Cohen.
What is your favourite quotation?
“Come, my friends, be not afraid, we are so lightly here;
“it is in love that we are made, in love we disappear” – Leonard Cohen.
A book that might move me to tears?
A Month in the Country by JL Carr.
Father, Son and Brother Ghost is published by the Harvest Press
