‘True talent invariably prevails.” Reader beware the book introduction, a land of gushing and exaggeration, of blind eyes and optimism. Yet in the case of Ciarán Carty’s introduction to the latest anthology of the Hennessy New Irish Writing awards, the plaudits ring true. Carty has edited New Irish Writing since 1988. Over the years he has seen plenty of emerging writers find recognition and support through the programme, which began in 1971. Dermot Healy, Joseph O’Connor, Marina Carr, Anne Enright, Patrick McCabe, Deirdre Madden and Colum McCann are former contributors.
But perhaps the most striking anecdote in Carty's preface is that of the Galway writer Mary Costello, who had her first story, Disappearance, published through the programme in 1989. Costello had a long wait to find mainstream success, publishing her first collection 22 years later. The China Factory (Stinging Fly Press, 2011) was nominated for a Guardian First Book Award, and her debut novel, Academy Street, was named Novel of the Year at the 2014 Irish Book Awards.
This is the third anthology of its kind, edited by Carty and the poet and novelist Dermot Bolger. The first appeared in 1995, to mark the 25th anniversary of the awards, and included stories from Mary O’Donnell, Marina Carr, Joseph O’Connor and Eoin McNamee. A second volume was issued in 2005, featuring Claire Keegan, Philip Ó Ceallaigh, Geraldine Mills and Paul Perry. This third incarnation marks another decade of emerging talent.
Regular rhythm
There are 25 stories in total, selected from 120 published since 2005. This could make for a lengthy read, but the competition-imposed limit of 2,200 words per story keeps things in check. It also gives the anthology a slightly unnatural shape, a definite and regular rhythm, with the reader able to anticipate when an ending is due. It is a minor point in an engaging collection that showcases a range of distinctive voices.
Many of these voices will now be familiar. John O'Donnell, Niamh Boyce, Colm Keegan, Kevin Power, Selina Guinness and Oona Frawley, among others, have published books in the intervening years. Sara Baume and Andrew Fox published debuts in February, and Máire T Robinson's debut, Skin, Paper, Stone, appeared last month. All of the contributors have continued writing, in some guise or other, with detailed biographies before each story giving an interesting context.
There are too many stories to mention all of them, but the collection is strong throughout. Lives are derailed by abortion, hot-headed arguments, infidelities, dementia, abuse. Backdrops shift from the local to the global: grieving with swans by the canal on Baggot Street in Dublin, missing out on cow-tipping in Iowa, student parties in gentrified Dublin, relationships in tatters in Cambodia.
Believable characters struggle with the hands they've been dealt. John O'Donnell's Promise is a searing account of the aftermath of a rugby injury that leaves a promising young player paralysed: "This was it. The pressure-sores and the spoon-feeds, the rhythmic, constant wheezing of the ventilator pumping air in through the hole in his trachea: this was all there was, all there ever would be."
Sepia by Monica Cornish is an understated, heartbreaking tale of love sacrificed in the name of duty in an older Ireland. Back to modern times, Colm Keegan's Drown Town vividly describes the Dublin clubbing scene: the highs, lows and licentious mood as, "trippin to bits, sharing his iPod and painting pictures with the tunes", the narrator jumps into the Liffey, unaware of the dangers within.
Last Breath by Brendan McLoughlin follows Ailbhe, a palliative-care nurse, as she details "a good week" in her hospice job, giving an unsentimental but keenly felt account of the business of dying. Baume uses a first-person-plural perspective in Dancing, Or Beginning to Dance, which lends a state-of-the-nation feel to her story about dole queues.
John Murphy's Earth tells of an ordinary father and husband who goes to an early house in Stoneybatter for "solitary drinking". As Timmons destroys himself over the course of a day, his two young sons wait at home for their bedtime story. The Great Escape by Michael O'Higgins offers the convincing voice of a world-weary prison guard as he shepherds an inmate and his girlfriend to the hospital. The guard understands the bleakness of their world – drug addiction, prostitution, bottle attacks – and allows them a glint of light, only to be punished for his kindness.
Humanity’s need for kindness and connection is a theme that runs through the collection. It is played out in 25 unique worlds, made real by gifted writers. True talent indeed.
