Artis-Ann , Features Writer
Scarred Streets And Promises: Close To Home By Michael Magee
The history of Northern Ireland has long interested me. My mother was born in Belfast and we still have family living in the province. History lessons at both O and A level covered the topic and Seamus Heaney’s poetry, reflecting as it does on his life in rural Northern Ireland, seems to have regularly invaded my Lit. studies. Even his poem ‘Storm on the Island’ with its clue in the first eight letters, is currently included in the GCSE Anthology, studied by contemporary students, most of whom have to be taught about ‘The Troubles’ to exact a better understanding of Heaney’s thinking. So, I find myself drawn to novels set in the six counties and this was one, though yet again, I discovered it was not actually my usual fare.
Close to Home follows the main protagonist, Sean, and his deadbeat friends, working (if you can call it that) for a pittance and housed in a run-down flat. They live on money borrowed from Ma, Gran and anyone else they can tap and most of it seems to be spent on alcohol and drugs. There is way too much alcohol and far too many drugs but they seem to provide an anaesthetic to shield these working-class boys from a bleak reality. They have shoplifting down to a fine art, in the local supermarkets, but it’s hardly an advert for life. Sean has a degree in English Lit. but after graduating from ‘uni in Liverpool’, he has come back home to Belfast where trouble is never far away and the aftermath of The Troubles is never far from the surface. The promise of a brighter future has not been realised.
There is way too much alcohol and far too many drugs but they seem to provide an anaesthetic to shield these working-class boys from a bleak reality.Sean makes bad decisions as he struggles to fit back into his working-class roots while still eyeing the university crowd to which he has become accustomed. There is a pervading sense of violence and fear; peace of mind is hard to find.The humour and ribaldry between Sean and his mates is dark and uneasy. There is no sense that anyone has anyone else’s back; despite what they say, his are not mates to rely on.
As a kid, Sean looked up to ‘the mad bastards’: older boys who stole cars and raced them, before setting them alight - after the ‘peelers’ or police had been chased off, of course. Unlike his brothers, he was never able to stand up for himself and often relied on the fact the bullies were too afraid of his older siblings to come after him. On the one occasion Sean does stand up for himself, he downs a chap with a single punch at a party where he has few friends and ironically, finds himself in court, only just escaping jail. 180 hours of Community Service is the education which weaves its way through this novel!
Trouble also seems to surround Anthony, Sean’s brother; too often too high on drink and drugs to take his responsibilities seriously. His mean sense of humour ensures he’s not a man to cross although the reader senses his love for his little brother is genuine. He has his demons which run deep into the past and from which he seems unable to escape.
Family is family and the magnetic attraction is there. And that is where ultimately, peace can be found, if you look for it and if you work for it.Sean wants to reconnect with his absent father and we trail his younger half-sister with him, although they never speak. The one light in Sean’s life is his friend and sometime girlfriend, Mairead, and even that relationship isn’t as comfortable as it might be since they are not entirely honest with each other. She at least recognises the need to escape, however, and heads off to Berlin in the hope of finding greener pastures and a brighter life.
This is an observational novel: tough and sharp, rich and honest, complex and compassionate. A study of masculinity, class, poverty and the effects of history. There is little action and while the characters seem real and authentic, the reader doesn’t really get to know them well; after all, they don’t really know themselves. There is no sense of judgement in this novel but I didn’t know whether to feel sorry for Sean or wish someone would shake some sense into him. His mates, Ryan and Finty are not good for him, and he knows it, but is drawn back into their seedy life, time and again. He ‘got wiped off (his) nut’ to escape a life of poverty and memory yet he’s had his chance. He has been to university and escaped his old life once but has allowed himself to drift right back into it. In a way, who can blame him? Family is family and the magnetic attraction is there. And that is where ultimately, peace can be found, if you look for it and if you work for it. There is hope at the end of this novel, as Sean finds his place and can start to look to the future.
And by the by, it may be the English teacher in me, and I may be a little churlish, but I had to get used to the lack of speech punctuation which I found somewhat irritating and occasionally confusing, especially at the start.There are a few references to Belfast which were familiar to me and plenty of others which weren’t and which no doubt provide geopolitical signpostsfor those who know. Equally, there were plenty of references to both sides of the divide and to some of the past violence,with which children lived and which they thought was normal.
You have to get used to the Irish dialect from page one and the language between the boys may put readers of a more sensitive nature off - it’s realistic, everyday talk for some people but gets a little repetitive and some may say it errs on the side of gratuitous! That might just be my naivety. And by the by, it may be the English teacher in me, and I may be a little churlish, but I had to get used to the lack of speech punctuation which I found somewhat irritating and occasionally confusing, especially at the start. It may be a stylistic feature or intended to reflect the lack of self-discipline in the boys but it seemed somehow contrived to me, and unnecessary.
This should not put you off though; it’s a gritty debut novel, bittersweet but with a sincerity which gives it depth.
Close to Home is published by Penguin