Louise O'Neill: One of Richard Chambers’ gifts is making complex ideas accessible
Louise O'Neill, author. Photograph Moya Nolan
I suppose I should have known by the letters. When my partner Richard Chambers and I first started dating, he would write me these eloquent notes — for our anniversary, for Christmas, for Valentine’s Day, etc.
They were so heartfelt and well-expressed; I would feel guilty about my hastily scribbled cards in return, dashing off a happy birthday with a couple of Xs underneath. The signs were there that this was a man who had a flair with words but I didn’t pay attention.
And so, when Richard shared with me an early draft of his first book, A State of Emergency: The Story of Ireland’s Covid Crisis, I was worried. I have a notoriously bad poker face; I am incapable of pretending to like something if I don’t. What would I do if the book was terrible? I thought, smiling nervously at Richard. Would I just have to break up with him? Sure, I would be very sad without this man (and having joint custody of Cooper, our rescue corgi-collie, might get a bit complicated) but it would be less awkward than having that particular conversation.
Imagine then, my relief, when I began to read and quickly realised what an excellent piece of work it was. Having lived through the last 18 months, I thought the last thing I would want to do would be read a book about the experience. I was wrong. “This reads like a novel,” I texted Richard after the first two chapters. “Actually,” I texted him again at about chapter four. “I’ve changed my mind. It reads like a thriller.”
In my opinion, one of Richard’s greatest gifts as a journalist is his ability to break down complex ideas and make them accessible to the lay-person (like me), a gift which is put to great use in A State of Emergency. I couldn’t believe what I was reading — the gossip, the intrigue, the behind-the-scenes drama. The petty squabbles and political rivalries, the backbiting between some of the top players in government and Nphet, the childish point-scoring. I’m still not quite sure how Richard managed to get these people to be so brutally honest; I suppose it is indicative of his skill and trustworthiness, as the broadcaster Sarah McInerney remarked when she interviewed him as part of Dublin Book Festival.
Yet while the book is fast-paced, compelling and unputdownable, there is also a great deal of respect and compassion shown to the thousands of families across Ireland who lost loved ones during this pandemic. Their stories are moving and poignant, and will break your heart. At the end, Richard writes that “the wounds of the long winter will take many years to heal”, but “Ireland must begin to remember”. For many of us, this is something we would like to forget as quickly as possible but it’s important that we learn the lessons of this time, too.
When Richard was working on it, he told me that he could find very little about the Irish experience during the 1918 flu pandemic. There were frontline workers then too, he said, why were their stories lost to the annals of time?
So, while there will be other books written about Covid — this pandemic is not over yet, not by a long shot — it is clear to me that in the future A State of Emergency will be more than a gripping read, it will be a time capsule of sorts; a collection of people’s stories while still fresh in their minds.
A State of Emergency has been shortlisted for best nonfiction book of 2021 at the Irish Book Awards and all jokes about him encroaching on my territory aside, I couldn’t be prouder of Richard. His vision for this book was ambitious and in order to realise that vision, he conducted hundreds of hours of interviews, setting his alarm for 5am every morning to write before work.
Richard would always argue that there were plenty of people who had it harder than he did — namely the healthcare workers and those who lost their lives, to whom the book is dedicated — but he has dealt with his own worries throughout this with a quiet dignity. Besides the abuse he and his colleagues have faced, trolls accusing them of shilling for Bill Gates (make it make sense, please), Richard was constantly anxious about his mother and brother, both of whom have serious health issues that made them very vulnerable to the virus.
Yet, he never complained. He kept working, kept pushing himself. He said yes to writing A State of Emergency because he believed it was an important story that needed to be told. It was.
Get a copy today — for yourself, for the politics obsessive in your life, as a Christmas present for the family member who is impossible to shop for. You won’t regret it.
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