John B. Keane Books

A popular author in Ireland, Keane is best known here for his play, "The Field," made into the movie of the same name. He writes of Irish country village life with humor and emotion; it's passions, dramas, small mindedness and, not least, its pervasive Catholicism.

Eddie Drannaghy is the "Ram of God," a nickname mockingly bestowed on him 15 years previously when he was expelled from the seminary for impregnating a distant American relative. The American was an older woman who came to Ireland for the express purpose of conceiving a Drannaghy child. "The poor fellow was like putty in her arms. He had no chance at all, Thomas," the village sergeant says, explaining the name to his assistant.

The book opens with Eddie, a strapping, handsome man of 35, being rudely awakened before sunrise by his drunken, shiftless younger twin brothers, ordering him to go and mow the high meadow of the family farm. As Eddie was meant to be a priest, his younger brothers have inherited the farm. Eddie, as usual, swallows his urge to bash their heads together in much the same way he buries his sorrow over his lost vocation in work and sublimates his natural sensuality in prayer and isolation.

But all that is about to change. The twins are marrying the two Cronane sisters, daughters of the village's most manipulative, single-minded and ambitious woman, Mollie Cronane, and will be turning the Ram out to fend for himself.
Eddie, despite his love for the land, is not despondent. He will pursue his seminary training in California, the only place far enough away to, perhaps, escape his nickname and reputation. And his growing interest in Patricia Cahalane, a gentle but strong-minded village teacher.

But, despite the planning, there is foreboding in the air. "Mollie could not shake off a harrowing premonition of impending disaster. Everything was moving too smoothly."

As Mollie's plans begin to unravel, she goes to greater and greater lengths to pursue the prime land of the Drannaghy farm and add it to the Cronane holdings, using any means, be it violence, gossip or the cudgel of Catholicism.

Eddie Drannaghy, however, finds himself digging in his heels, refusing to give an inch, while never quite relinquishing his dream of a vocation or his daydreams of Patricia.

Keane's novel is populated with vivid, strongly drawn characters with numerous idiosyncracies. A number of subplots, some comic, some tragic, circle his main plot. There is high drama, low comedy and a thoughtful (but never didactic) exploration of prejudice, alcoholism and the use and misuse of religion.

Keane's writing is musical and witty and until the very end the reader is not quite sure how it will all come out. A delightful and absorbing and very Irish novel.

John B. Keane is my favorite literary discovery of the last 15 years. He's witty, compassionate and insightful. The stories in this volume run the gamut from heartbreaking and tragic to fully romantic and full of giggles.

Keane has a deceptively simple style that develops character without flashy turns of phrase, and reveals the secret corners of the human heart. But when he opens that door, you're astounded by what he shows you not only in the hearts of others, but in your own.

Don't miss a chance to read anything of his you can lay your hands on.

Certain books are truly gifts. And this is one of those. While it is common that we read as a passtime, when a book like this one comes your way, it is like a wonderful conversation...sometimes probing, sometimes bringing about reflection, dependably amusing, always engaging.

I will not make an attempt to summarize the plot. The available Editorial Reviews accomplish that better than I could -- and I see no point in including redundant details here.

In scope however, I'll mention that this book is similar to something by Dickens or Trollope. We meet people from various walks of life and almost all levels of society as the novel unfolds. The storylines are capably handled and I found it interesting how Mr. Keane included what seemed at first like short bits meant merely to provide color but would eventually relate to further plot developments. The work has other elements of mastery that result in admirable character development, realistic plotting and amazing handling of pace and tone.

For someone like me who often struggles to find time for reading, this book was no problem. I couldn't wait to get back to it and due to the author's skill with language, the reading was no work at all. The people talk like real people and even the occasional smattering of local/period slang as well as Irish Gaelic is no problem -- there is a brief glossary at the end of the book.

And humor -- this book is alive with it! Never does Mr. Keane rely on stereotypes. He is too good for that. It all comes from the crafty arrangement of characters (who are all wonderfully human) and situations that pertain to the novel. Nothing thrown in coarsely just for the sake of a joke.

This is a wonderful book that brings us to ponder traditions. But it also has much to do with considerations of how we define ourselves, how we stay alive, how we see ourselves in confrontation to authority (whether rightful or otherwise), and our place in society. A very rewarding, enriching experience!

Keane's wonderful storytelling skills draw you into the lives of the characters and not only vividly depict a time now gone, but a spirit which may also regretfully be long gone in Ireland. (No, I take that back, you can still glimpse a bit of that spirit in the "letters" page of the Irish Times!) Keane is tough on the Catholic church and clergy of that era, as well as, the social structures of the town vs. the country people. But it is an honest portrayal and never completely black and white or cartoonish. Although I have seen Keane's play "Sive" I had never read one of his books before and was delighted with this one. I didn't want to put it down and now that it's finished I wish I were still reading it!

I am planning a trip to Ireland and always enjoy reading some books set in the place I am visiting. This novel is a nice look at the older Ireland. It deals with the Church and the conflict with the Church of some local villagers who want to do their traditional "wren dance" celebration. It was a good read and I think I got a feel for the place I am going to be visiting.

With the liveliness of a stepdance and the simplicity of a Dingle Peninsula landscape, Keane introduces us to the harsh life of the close-knit community of Dirrabeg, a community facing extinction in the mid-1950's. Many of the young have left for England or America, where there are opportunities and chances for secure lives. Those remaining behind love their land and their independence but fear for the future as the bogs get thin, the yields are poor, and the children have little hope of success.

For Donal Hallapy, devoted father of a large family, times are very tough. But Donal is a bodhran player, an expert in the ancient drums of his Celtic forebears, a musician in great demand whenever the once-a-year wrendances take place, all-night singing and dancing hooleys which can be traced back to pagan times. This paganism, the secret nature of the celebrations, the drinking that takes place, and the fact that the church has no control over them has made them anathema to "the clan of the round collar," in the person of Canon Tett, an ultraconservative and downright sadistic priest determined to bring the free spirits of Dirrabeg to bay by ending the fun of the wrendances.

The prose is straightforward and earthy, the dialogue salty and realistic, and the interactions of the characters so natural that one can share the joys and sorrows, the humor and anger, and the frustrations and all-too-brief personal satisfactions. The natural world, which is exquisitely described, even in its harshness, takes on almost human dimensions, influencing the action directly, while providing a vivid canvas upon which the contest between church and village is played out. The humor is broad, almost slapstick, but tempered by an overarching feeling of melancholy and impending doom. Though some may find the clergy to be caricatures and the message a bit too didactic, Keane provides us a rare glimpse of the last days of a now-vanished world. Mary Whipple

Keane reminds me of the type of Irish fiction that, after Frank O'Connor and Sean O'Faolain's masterful short stories, has not attained as much respect among the literati as it deserves. It appeared in 1986 even as younger writers like John Banville were adding a continental dimension, and as John McGahern was pursuing his own evocations--in stories and novels--of rural life as it was vanishing in a modernizing Ireland. Keane, writing after O'Connor & O'Faolain but earlier than Banville or even McGahern, takes on mid-20 c Ireland as it decayed by emigration to England, depopulation of townlands, and the pressure of relentless clerical and sexual repression.

I found this much less sentimental than I feared. The nostalgia some praise is tempered strongly but subtly by honest depictions of how the death of two calves could doom a small farm's survival, and how devastating and how alluring a flight to England could be for those raised in these bucolic but unforgiving, scrappy if scenic landscapes. The English midlands hover over the whole narrative. Sexuality and its variations appear in straightforwardly rendered yet non-explicit renditions, and the combination of lust and guilt makes for convincingly nuanced portrayals of all involved, clergy and laity. Keane's insights into parochial life in both senses of the adjective make for impressive insights that do not leap out too obviously--except in a few outbursts, one of which by a protagonist is answered as "you should be a politician."

The novel reads quickly, the prose is not purple, and the humor adds to the tension and quickens the pace. The making of the bodhran is the work's impressive set-piece, but the cast of so many skillfully detailed major and minor characters only strengthens the unobtrusive deftness with which Keane handles this superficially direct narrative arc. One corner of south-west Irish turfland and market town stands for the whole of the island in its fears and hopes within a stagnant economy, a growing population that saw England as its only career goal, and a church that controlled the schooling of its young and away from which--as is charted here down in a chillingly conveyed scene that shows the Church overpowering the last resister among nearly 4,000 parishioners--none could escape its scrutiny. While I wished the scenes of the parish mission and the sermons thundered would have been drawn more thoroughly, given their place in advancing these key last sections of the plot, as a whole, this provides a wide-ranging analysis of how the Church's rigidity poisoned traditions, bodies, and minds.

It wears its anticlericalism lightly but firmly, and to its credit does allow for nimble and sensitive variation in showing how all of the priests and a key nun respond with their own individual sensitivity to what occurs as the town fights the townland. Even the antagonist's dictatorial reign is explained by a fellow cleric as having flourished due to his isolation from episcopal or practical control. Such fair-mindedness that Keane shows makes for a valuable record of mid 20c Irish mentalities as well as a recommended good read.

Reading this wonderful book made me feel like I was sitting in some public house in Ireland, listening to an old master storyteller spin a yarn about memorable characters in situations both dire and ridiculous; and it reminded me of the value of the often-neglected art of genuine storytelling. I felt as if I had come to know the characters as real people, and I judged myself the better for having made their acquaintance. And did I meantion that the book is hilarious? The unforgettable attack of the little people is not to be missed!

That's the wild west of Ireland. There are so many things to tell about this book where do you start. The memorable scene where a clapped out bull fit only for the meatyard rouses himself to perform his swansong and in the process commands a bulls price at the fair, the naked leprechauns, the immoral ladies on their last fling with the fine young men. Keane is at his best when he is being irreverent, and this has to be his most irreverent book of all. Totally shocking and in the best tradition of Irish rural literature -every word of it is true!

This is a bonafide cattledrive novel. The fact that it takes place in Ireland of the 40's doesn't make it less exciting. There's bad guys and good guys and sweet colleens (not to mention some hootchycootchy kind of gals!) The forces of nature play a major part (both good and bad) in life on the trail. You get a true feeling for Irish country life and love and honor and pride. The characters are worth a story each, from a lascivious old widow to a gun toting Minister (yes, not everyone is Catholic)! Hallmark made a sickly sweet TV movie out of this wonderful novel, cutting out the murder and most of the mayhem. (NOW are you interested?)

With the liveliness of a stepdance and the simplicity of a Dingle Peninsula landscape, Keane introduces us to the harsh life of the close-knit community of Dirrabeg, a community facing extinction in the mid-1950's. Many of the young have left for England or America, where there are opportunities and chances for secure lives. Those remaining behind love their land and their independence but fear for the future as the bogs get thin, the yields are poor, and the children have little hope of success.

For Donal Hallapy, devoted father of a large family, times are very tough. But Donal is a bodhran player, an expert in the ancient drums of his Celtic forebears, a musician in great demand whenever the once-a-year wrendances take place, all-night singing and dancing hooleys which can be traced back to pagan times. This paganism, the secret nature of the celebrations, the drinking that takes place, and the fact that the church has no control over them has made them anathema to "the clan of the round collar," in the person of Canon Tett, an ultraconservative and downright sadistic priest determined to bring the free spirits of Dirrabeg to bay by ending the fun of the wrendances.

The prose is straightforward and earthy, the dialogue salty and realistic, and the interactions of the characters so natural that one can share the joys and sorrows, the humor and anger, and the frustrations and all-too-brief personal satisfactions. The natural world, which is exquisitely described, even in its harshness, takes on almost human dimensions, influencing the action directly, while providing a vivid canvas upon which the contest between church and village is played out. The humor is broad, almost slapstick, but tempered by an overarching feeling of melancholy and impending doom. Though some may find the clergy to be caricatures and the message a bit too didactic, Keane provides us a rare glimpse of the last days of a now-vanished world. Mary Whipple

Our drama group did "Moll" by John B Keane a few years ago and i thought that it was an extremely funny but yet so real play. Moll is a nosy,vicious,vendictive,poisionious,interfereing busybody. Herself and the canon get off on a great foot but moll has no time for (in her own words) an ordiniary. However she loves ruling the roost and been needed by the canon "ohh 'tis hard canon to getrbused to the black and white when one is used to the purple". When the bishop comes to visit the household, after receiving pleas from the curates to get rid of moll, he transvers Canon Pratt which means that the new parish priest will be Fr.Brest(former curate) so Moll now takes it aupon herself to tender to the needs of the newly appointed parish priest and the ending of the play is such a turnaround taht it would make ANYBODY laugh. A must read! Well done John B.