Children's book reviews: Dreams of sporting greatness, messy hair, and suspicious fish

With Seachtain na Gaeilge upon us, Pet O’Connell reviews a selection of Irish language books for children and teenagers

The hero of ‘Na Bróga Peile agus scéalta eile’ by Seosamh Céitinn dreams of emulating Republic of Ireland’s Troy Parrott, above, celebrating after scoring the winning goal in the 2026 Fifa World Cup Qualifier against Hungary in November. File picture: Ryan Byrne/ Inpho

Na Bróga Peile agus scéalta eile by Seosamh Céitinn (Cló Iar-Chonnacht, €10)

The World Cup is on the telly. You’re 11 and your summer is spent glued to the screen, transfixed by your new favourite player’s every move.

Not alone do you now have a burning ambition to play like Italy’s top-scorer, but you become convinced that this is somehow remotely possible, if only you had the same flashy football boots as your latest hero.

No matter that the boots that every child now desires are a ridiculously-overpriced pale imitation of the soccer star’s footwear. No matter that your family cannot afford such luxuries. 

When you’re 11, as the narrator of Na Bróga Peile recalls, possessing a pair of these boots is all you think of and talk about, de ló is d’oíche.

The boy’s widowed father is struggling to care for him as a lone parent and has enlisted the help of his own mother, a mamó seanfhaiseanta, but he promises the child a present if the results of his summer tests are satisfactory.

Exam success means his father purchases the prized boots, ach ochón, when Mamó sets eyes on them, they are dispatched back to the shop to be exchanged for a more sensible pair.

Aside from crushing the child’s dreams of following in his soccer hero’s footsteps, this might have had a long-lasting detrimental effect on familial relationships, were it not for an admirable level of maturity on the part of the 11-year-old, who grows up to narrate the sorry story to his own son, resulting in a belated happy ending.

A Cork City native and UCC graduate with an MA in modern Irish, Seosamh Céitinn’s first short story collection is a series of Irish-language snapshots.

It journeys in time through the author’s childhood, back to 1916, and forward to the covid pandemic, and in place from Ballintemple and the St Patrick’s Street Christmas lights, to Bondi Beach and the Scottish island of Barra.

A teacher for more than 30 years and the author of a secondary school Irish grammar book, Céitinn’s eclectic collection is accessible to teenage readers both linguistically and thematically — its five-minute stories each accompanied by an extensive glossary of less-familiar words and phrases.

Cairdeas & Cogadh by Áine Ní Ghlinn (Cló Iar-Chonnacht, €8)

Gaelic football is the sporting passion of teenager Neans and her little brother Cío, but someone is picking on Cío and making him doubt whether he should continue playing.

Another boy has decided that calling Cío ‘aerach’ is a great insult, but at the age of eight, Cío does not understand what it is to be gay and imagines, since it has been turned into a term of abuse, that this means he cannot play football.

Having explained the meaning of the word, referencing gay people who Cío knows and respects, Neans reassures him that the abuse is nonsense on several fronts: 

“Tá tú ró-óg le fios a bheith agat an bhfuil tú aerach nó nach bhfuil. Agus má tá, is cuma. Tá go leor imreoirí móra spóirt ann atá aerach.”

She arms him too with a riposte for the bullies who ‘accuse’ him of being gay: “B’fhéidir go bhfuil. B’fhéidir nach bhfuil. Is cuma sa tsioc is ní bhaineann sé leatsa.”

Through the eight-year-old’s mistaken perception that relationships and sexual orientation require the approval of others, former Laureate na nÓg Áine Ní Ghlinn raises pertinent questions about the reinforcement of all forms of prejudice among children and how this might be challenged.

Neans surmises that the bullying of her brother is rooted in a longstanding feud between herself and the bully’s big sister, her former best friend Eibhlín.

With the conflict at the heart of this cleverly-constructed Irish language teen novel playing out on the football field, can Neans and Eibhlín — the captains of opposing school teams — battle each other on the big sporting occasion while restoring their friendship?

Gruaig Áine by Eoin Colfer (Futa Fata, €8.95)

“Is fuath liom mo chuid gruaige,” arsa Áine. “Tá sí donn agus dubh, catach agus díreach. Tá sí ar nós sceach mhór ag fás ar bharr mo chinn. D’fhéadfadh éan nead a thógáil inti.”

Well what’s a girl to do with unruly hair, only take the scissors into her own hands and start snipping?

Though Áine is at first delighted with her new style, Mamaí is less impressed and bans her from cutting her own hair ever again. 

She doesn’t mention anything about forbidding her daughter from honing her hairdressing skills on dogs though…

Translated by Sadhbh Devlin, Eoin Colfer’s comic tale, known in a former life as Mary’s Hair, is among the latest titles for beginner readers from publishers Futa Fata, along with Julia Donaldson’s The Snake Who Came to Stay, translated by Cúnla Ní Bhraonáin Morris as An Nathair a Tháinig ar Cuairt.

Colfer’s Ed’s Bed also becomes Leaba Éanna, while Oisín McGann’s whacky Mad Grandad stories get a second coming i nGaoluinn thanks to Fearghas Mac Lochlainn, among Cló Iar-Chonnacht’s new releases for younger readers (€8).

In terms of encouraging children to start reading for pleasure tré mheán na Gaoluinne, some would argue that the means of engagement should be stories written originally in the language, but the familiarity of previously-read tales retold in Irish, and the pulling power of storytellers of the calibre of Colfer, McGann, or Donaldson, should not be underestimated.

Níl Éisc le Trust by Neil Sharpson agus Dan Santat (An Gúm, €10)

Now here’s a really fishy tale for our times. There are conspiracy theories about covid, about vaccines, climate change, and now there’s a conspiracy theory about fish.

What exactly are they up to, lurking down there in the water, where we can’t see them? What are they talking about? Are they plotting our doom? 

When you think about it, ships never sink on land, do they? They always sink at sea, where they are surrounded by… yes, fish. Well that’s pretty fishy.

A group of fish is called a school, but what are they teaching them in these schools?

Don’t trust politicians, don’t trust fake, or even hake news (only codding), and definitely don’t trust fish. But you’d better believe that ‘trust’ is also ‘trust’ i nGaoluinn and so “níl éisc le trust”, warns Dublin author Neil Sharpson. “Is rógairí agus bithiúnaigh iad.”

As for the deilgín deamhain, or devil fish, “úsáideann sé solas lonrach le portáin bhochta shoineanta a mhealladh. ‘Bithlonracht’ [bioluminescence] a thugtar air seo. Ainmneacha eile a thugtar air ná ‘cleasaíocht’ nó ‘a bheith i d’iasc suarach, sleamhain’.”

A slippery-sliding trickster indeed, and a picture book every bit as ludicrous i nGaoluinn as it is i mBéarla.