Reviews

 

BOOKS IRELAND

April 1991

 

Honour Thy Father. Eamonn Mc Grath.

Blackstaff. 251 pp. Stg£4.95 pb 0-85640-433-0

 

Honour thy father was originally published in 1970. Ten years later, from a haphazard pile on a stand outside a Dublin bookshop, I bought it for the princely sum of twenty pence. I hope this paperback doesn't suffer similar neglect because it is every bit as good as anything by John McGahern, with which it has alot in common.

 

Set during the thirties and forties in rural County Wexford, the story centres on the relationship between John Foley, a sensitive schoolboy, and his father, a grim individual responsible for most of the tensionin their 'loveless house'. Yes, of course, in a long line from Joyce to McGahern and a hundred others, right up to Shane Connaughton, you've read it all before, but if there is nothing very original about this particular version it is still well-written, convincing and often deeply moving.

 

Both the protaganists and lesers figures like the blacksmith or grave-digger (whose final act will melt the hardest heart) are just as real as Hugh Leonard's, but Mr McGrath's forte is his dialogue. This never strikes a false note, moves the plot along at a plausible pace and, in one simple conversation near the end, illustrates better than a thousand lectures the ideological gulf between intellectual endeavour and the peasant's fierce attachment to the land. 

Many chapters are devoted to John's years in boarding school and his discovery of sex. The first I had no problems with (though an investigation into a robbery is a bit drawn-out), but the descriptions of masturbation are predictable and include the single instance of downright bad writing: "I pedalled madly, like a racing cyclist, my heart pounding, elated, triumphant, because I knew it was within reach. And then it burst like a rainbow shower of sweetness all over me..." Furthermore, his sexual experiments with his sister are, to say the least, unlikely.

 

But compared to what is very good here, such reservations are insignificant. The central relationship, the ups and downs of First Love, the evocation of a lifestyle that still survives in rural Ireland, have all been written about before, but seldom as successfully as here. Don't wait ten years to buy this book.

 

 

New York Times

May 1972

 

New & Novel

By Martin Levin

 

The Clay Grew Tall

By Eamonn McGrath.

245pp. New York

Herder & Herder. $6.95

 

"My name is John Foley," says the narrator. " I am 11 years old. I live in Wexford on a farm. I do not like it. My father and brother like it. I don't. They don't like me because I don't." Which about sums up the interpersonal relationships in this low-keyed novel of an Irish adolescence.

 

John is repelled by his hard-drinking father. He is kept at arm's length by a withdrawn mother "who hardly ever smiled and sang only when she was alone." Partners in a loveless marriage, father has good reason to drink and mother to brood. Things take a turn for the worse when the boy is sent away to school, and the number of bullies expands from two to infinity - but John develops, despite the cruelty of his schooling. Faced with true hatreds (e.g., a sadistic headmaster), his antagonism for his father mellows into love.

 

The time of the novel is the 1940's - but its climate is almost Dickensian, soaked in the aroma of country pubs and the extroverted brutality of an earlier day.

 

 

West Cork News

Friday May 18, 1990

 

Claire Hopper talks to Inchydoney-based author Eamonn McGrath whose novel has just been re-issued.

 

A novelist who writes to make sense out of chaos.

 

When I arrived he was lost in thought, gazing out over the sandy expanse of Inchydoney strand, making the most of a few moments silence.

 

Author, Eamonn McGrath enjoys his own company. As a child, spending much time alone, he learned the knack of being happy with himself. It is a boy's growing self-knowledge set against an imperfect relationship with his father which is the theme for his strongly autobiographical novel, Honour Thy Father, recently republished by Blackstaff Press.

 

"My own father died when I was still at school and I felt I never really knew him as a person at all. That's not my father in the book because I did not know my father but whatever people say, what you write has to be autobiographical, it's out of your own experience it comes anyway."

 

He talks quietly but thoughts arrive rapidly and are investigated with a surgeon's thorough skill. Constantly his eyes are drawn to the sea as if needing to rest on the long ocean horizon to concentrate his mind.

 

Childhood experience has served him well in lending an honest and truthful note to Honour Thy Father. Set in Co. Wexford where he grew up, his beautifully written account deals with themes of an Irish country boyhood, a loveless marriage, rural small-mindedness, school brutality and adolescent sexuality. His compassionate writing, however, propels the reader into the centre of John Foley's confusing world and his soul searching struggle to forge his own identity.

 

"Yes, I suppose it was therapeutic to write it in a way. I mean, why does one begin to write at all? It is out of a feeling that you must out some kind of order on life. Life is chaotic and you must out some order on it so that you can understand it. After my father died and when I got married, I realised I hadn't really known him and so I began to investigate all of that. The book helped me to get it into some kind of perspective."

 

In the book, the father is closer to the land than to any of his family but the child cannot understand why until he matures. "in the country, men had this relationship with the land, it was very strong. I remember my own father had a real love for it, he was a different person when he was on the land or talking about it. It was a close, earthy feeling."

 

"My own father was a very affectionate person but he could be cantankerous when he had some drink taken. He was a countryman and went on sprees with his friends, but he was a hard worker and a very successful farmer, not a drunkard like the man in the book."

 

"You know as a child yourself, you hear an argument between your parents and you build it up into something immense whereas the parents themselves may have resolved the thing before the day is out but a child can't cope with those kind of things, they only have a child's judgement. A boy must test his manhood against his father but I didn't understand that at the time.

 

Now in his sixties, Eamonn McGrath has taught English at secondary level for the past thirty five years and teaches at Clonakilty Community College. "The frustrating thing I find about teaching is that I have endless patience with other peoples' children but at home I find myself over reacting to my own."

 

"You know , the one thing in life you get no great training or preparation for is bringing up a family. It's on the emotional level that you fail alot. Looking back it's easy to say you should have done this or that but nothing we do is perfect. Things are haphazard, like life itself. Parents can never do everything right."

 

Eamonn and his wife Joan have seven children, two girls and five boys. His eldest son, Garvan, a member of the RTE Repo

ertory Company, recently read extracts from the Honour Thy Father on radio. "Yes it was an emotional experience at the time, I kept wondering what kind of a parent I was I"

 

Honour Thy Father is never nostalgic and the author has little sentiment for the past, preferring the present. "The great thing about today is that everyone gets an education. In my childhood the attitude was that you never really needed it because you were going to work on the land, although it was a social cachet for well-to-do farmers to send their sons to college for a year. It wasn't to learn anything, just to be able to say that he had been there. A job was the important thing."

 

Eamonn has always written, ever since he was at school when he used to compose satirical ballads about events there and secretly pin them on the notice board for an appreciative readership. Today he works in a small room in his home at Inchydoney.

 

"I'm fascinated by new technology. I write straight on to a word processor. I wouldn't think you'd write better with a pen, it's what's in your head that counts. It's a job to keep up with your thoughts once you get going. I can't understand it when people say they write something once and that's it. I'm inclined to revise a lot, to keep paring down, I never add."

 

His prose is elegant. He laments failing standards in literacy and hates sloppy writing. Teachers do care, he says, but English is being thought differently these days.

 

His second novel, The Charnel House, will be published by Blackstaff Press in November. It is based on the lives of a group of people living in an institution. He adds no more than that, hoping people will read it for themselves. He has a substantial amount of work in the pipeline, including one book on the controversial topic of incest. He would like to write something about school but is not sure whether it stirs him enough.

 

 

The Observer

3rd January 1970

 

Troubled Lives

Novels by Claire Tomalin

 

...

A different outpost figures in Eamonn McGrath's Honour thy Father, a study of a classic Irish boyhood. If everything here seems familiar, it is told without posturing and in a direct and graceful manner. Father is a decent man, a good farmer with one vice, drink, and an unhappy marriage made when he was 50 to a reluctant young bride urged on by her family. His son John, the narrator, is bright and sensitive, suffers from the conflicts at home and hates the farming life. His mother sends him away from home to the Fathers, where the usual humiliations, fights and dramas happen. Brother Tom stays to work the farm, little sister Moll, with whom John long enjoys an innocent incestuous relationship, is outgrown. Father becomes old and ill and more understanding: then dies and is mourned. Both the Irish rural background and the scene of changing perspective between parent and child are soberly dealt with: a quiet and truthful book.

 

IRISH NEWS

15 May 1990

 

Honour Thy Father

Eamonn McGrath

Paperback: £4.95 stg.

Publication: April 1990

 

A bare, painful story of Irish youth

First published in 1970 Honour Thy Father has now been republished by Blackstaff Press as a forerunner to Eamonn McGrath's next novel, The Charnel House, due for publication in Autumn 1990.

 

Honour Thy Father is the story of John Foley's journey from childhood to early manhood. Along this difficult path he goes through the whole range of emotions which we probably all have experienced.

 

John's journey is made all the more difficult by the fact that he is born into an apparently loveless marriage, has a strained relationship with his drunken father and shares none of the affinity for the land so apparent in his father and brother.

 

Comfort and support come in the shape of a strong and loving mother, and a tomboyish sister. His salvation from a family life of bickering with his father is a boarding school education. Although no bed of roses in itself, this option nonetheless proves infinitely preferable to the ongoing squabbles at home.

 

IT is then that John begins to find some tolerance for his father's way of life. Here he also experiences his first taste of the pain and join of teenage love.

 

Towards the end of his journey, John comes not only to tolerate his father but to understand and even love the man.

 

Primarily, as the title suggests, a story of one boy's relationship with his father, but many other themes are covered.

 

Life at boarding school with all the bullying and unfeeling rules, is out under the microscope. Then there is John's gradual sexual awakening, with all its feelings of guilt and fear. We also get an insight in to the life at the time (pre-Second World War) of a rural Irish community.

 

Eamonn McGrath used simple direct language to bring his novel impressively to life. Honour Thy Father is a sometimes bare, even painful story of Irish youth, struggling to grow in an often hostile environment beset with suspicion.

 

If Eamonn McGrath manages to attain the same high standard in his next novel, it will be well worth the twenty year interval.

 

Stephen O'Reilly

 

Andersontown News

Saturday, 30th June 1990

 

Literary hat-trick for Blackstaff

 

......

Eamonn McGrath is the lesser known of the two writers I have mentioned, but Honour Thy Father, first printed in 1970, is the better book. As its title might suggest, this is the story of one John Foley, son of a County Wexford farmer, and his relationship with his father, the spirit of which is reassessed as the novel progresses. As the son struggles towards independence h becomes, paradoxically, more attached to his father, and in one sense, the writing becomes a form of pilgrimage, as well as working out a separate identity. The early years of the narrators life allow for some very typical Irish literary scenes - pub interiors, failing marriage between suffering mother and drunken father, school life - and there was a feeling that some if the author's concerns were a little dated, but the resourcefulness of the writing, the accuracy of the observed speech, and the honesty with which aspects of adolescent sexuality and rural life are treated, recommend themselves. This is a splendid first book, and well worth a read.

 

Domhnal Mitchell

 

RTE GUIDE 29/09/1989

 

Father and Son

BOOKTIME is, obviously, as varied a programme as the books on its radio shelves.

But starting on Monday, comes a book with more than one distinction to its name. It's the longest Booktime ever recorded, and written by a father, it's read by his actor son.

 

Honour Thy Father by Wexfordman Eamonn McGrath is a book that somehow slipped past the literary looking glass world. First published in 1970 by the late lamented riverrun imprint of Alan Figgis, it is now out of print.

 

A fact of life for many books, deserving and undeserving, but extraordinary in the case of this rich, semi-autobiographical novel, whose child narrator transfixes the reader from page one, with the vulnerability of Dicken's Pip, and the Irish vitality of Muiris O'Suilleabhain.

 

Eamonn McGrath insists that the book is only very loosely based on his own and that the usual disclaimer was put in, and, just as usually, disbelieved by neighbours and acquaintances.

 

But the central relationship, that of bookish son and roughcut, hard-drinking father, is fairly close to the fact.

 

"I grew up in the '30s when few self-made farmers saw the point of losing a working son to prolonged education. Land itself was all the point they could see. I was the youngest son and my  mother fought all the way for me to go to secondary school and then to stay there."

 

Few Irish writers have depicted boarding school life as graphically and as economically as McGrath does. The truth that emerges from his account lies in his enviable ability to write down the physical owrld that a child inhabits - completely different place from the one an adult knows.

 

Honour Thy Father produced by Daniel Reardon is a neglected Irish classic. The Booktime slot goes a good way towards redressing the debt.

 

The Times

23 June 1990

 

Paperbacks

Honour Thy Father

, by Eamonn McGrath

(Blackstaff Press, £4.95)

Classic story of growing up in County Wexford among provincial narrow-mindedness, boarding school brutality, adolescent sexuality; and a boy struggling for a better relationship with his father.

 

THE SUNDAY TIMES

1970

 

Freshmen

Honour Thy Father by Eamonn McGrath/Figgis 35s

 

Julian Symons

 

TWO GOOD FIRST NOVELS GREET THE NEW YEAR........

Eamonn McGrath's Honour Thy Father comes from a Dublin publisher, Allen Figgis. It is an account of growing up somewhere in County Wexford, and of a timid intellectual boy's changing relationship with his hard-drinking illiterate father, often remarkably vivid, and in the end moving without ever being sentimental. The long opening chapter, with the child John Foley waiting patiently and the miserably to be taken home while his father drinks steadily in a pub with genial local characters, sitting in the pub kitchen after closing time, and eventually rattling back in a bone shaking car to the farm where they live, sets the tone perfectly.

 

Life as a boarder at College looks like an escape from the farm. But this too has its terrors, the French bed made for  him on the first night, bullying, a total confusion of mind and body from which masturbation (known to him as " The Game") provides the only release. The transition from John's hatred of his father to his sympathy with his awkwardly expressed desire for love is also finely done. Seeing his father's coffin lowered into the ground, intellectual John - Stephen Dedalus minimus you might say - is concious of his own inadequacy.

The father-son relationship is the heart of the book, but the college scenes and characters are excellent in a more conventional way, and the innocently incestuous feelings of John's sister are very well conveyed. In other   hands much of this might have been commonplace, but Mr. McGrath writes such delicacy and generous openness that it comes up new.