Book Review: No Country

Kalyan Ray

The speeches of Daniel O’Connell feature in the narrative of No County.

In the publicity material this book is described as beautifully written, which it is and intelligent, which it certainly is. It is quite compelling but could be even more so if you had not read so much of the story either in other novels or in history.

This is a very big 550-page tome and it does bang on a bit about terrible poverty in the early 1840s, the speeches and gatherings of Daniel O’Connell, the great famine and the awful English landlords like Palmerston, and life in Ireland before the three Fs. The terrible journey that the bookish Brendan McCarthaigh is compelled to make on the ‘Erin Rose’ to the new world is as vibrant as any description of Atlantic storms — onboard sickness, disease, deprivation and corruptness of crews — as you will see anywhere. No Country is essentially three stories in three countries. We have the Ireland that is left behind by two best friends, and on which they each reflect; a green and drizzly past.

Then there is Brendan’s North American story, in a country that has already become multi-cultural and is coming to terms with its identity at a time of mass immigration and of survival in sweat shops and agriculture.

Then there’s the third and probably the most interesting one which takes place in Calcutta. Padraig is Brendan’s best friend from Sligo and is pressed into service by the navy and then forced into a trip to India after being caught up in a knifing incident in Dublin at one of O’Connell’s rallies and after impregnating Brigid, which causes furious catholic angst.

The question any reader will be asking is how these stories will fuse — there is after all, no email, texting or similar communication available. The story is epic in that it spans so many generations, from 1843 — 1989 and has the capacity to introduce yet more souls, and babies born with rhythmic certainty — and even more acquaintances to throw you off the scent. Historic events are woven ingeniously into each story, and this adds to the sharpness of the narrative.

The massacre at Amritsar on General Dyer’s orders in April 1919 is described with vascular horror.

The author was educated in India and in the USA, and now lives in both countries. He has researched this story with great intimacy, and is uniquely placed to produce a multi-generational saga with triangular complexity.

This novel will keep you going on a flight to Portugal, and at least six sessions on the beach. If you’re a slow reader it could last you the journey home.