100 books like The Great Irish Politics Book

Long before Artemis Fowl made Eoin Colfer a superstar, he wrote this laugh-out-loud and heart-breakingly beautiful story about a friendship between two boys from very different worlds.

When Benny’s family relocates to Tunisia, his world is turned upside down – before he meets a streetwise local called Omar on a moped. The two unlikely friends become firm allies, and together try to overcome obstacles that few kids will ever encounter in their lives.

This book is filled with Eoin’s brilliant and uniquely-Irish humour, and is one that I read and re-read until its spine fell apart!

The sequel Benny & Babe is also, in my opinion, an instant classic.

Simply put: this book is one of the most beautiful books I’ve ever read.

PJ is a world-renowned artist who turned his hand to writing with this period piece, set aboard the famous ship bound for the new world. I had the enormous privilege of visiting PJ’s studio in Dublin several years ago and fell in love with his artwork on the spot.

In a world of flashy, computer-rendered illustrations, PJ’s style is timelessly beautiful.

The simplicity of the story, paired with the epic scope of his artwork makes this book a constant pleasure to revisit over and over again.

I’m a sucker for tongue-in-cheek humour, the sort of dry, straight-faced joke that is so skilfully woven into a narrative or a character’s personality that you’re almost not sure if it was meant to be funny.

Alex Barclay has that skill in truckloads, and uses it to tremendous effect in this book. It’s a ripping yarn about a young girl on the search for her dad – except, it’s about a lot more than that.

It embraces the absurd and the vividly real in equal measure, all told through the eyes of a beautifully-crafted main character.

I can’t think of another book like it – it is utterly, uniquely brilliant.

Back to the non-fiction shelf for my last pick – which is a whistle-stop tour through the Irish sportswomen who have achieved greatness, but perhaps not always the recognition that they deserve.

Jacqui Hurley and her crack squad of illustrators have curated a book full of brilliant role models for all the young women out there who dream of representing their county, their country, or even those who just need some inspiration to go out on the pitch and do their best.

It’s essential reading for any young sports fan, no matter who they are!

I first encountered this book as a series of lectures in Oxford in 1978 and was riveted.

Lyons faced head-on the themes of cultural and sectarian antagonism in Ireland from the death of the constitutionalist nationalist leader Parnell in 1891 to independent Ireland’s decision to remain neutral in World War II, using sources that were as much literary as political, and at the end projecting the divisions in Irish society forward to the then-current violence in the North. The tone was notably acerbic, even verging towards despair, but also employing bitter humour.

A great historian, he died prematurely a few years later when just embarking on his projected but unwritten biography of Yeats. He had written many books, but this is the one that left the loudest echoes–notably in nailing the psychological gulf of understanding between Ireland and Britain that became so apparent in the early twentieth century.

Revolutionary historians are familiar with the Townshend Acts, import duties approved by Parliament in 1767 that pushed the Americans closer toward independence. Patrick Griffin explores the man for who the taxes were named—Chancellor of the Exchequer Charles Townshend—but also his brother George who served as Lord Lieutenant of Ireland from 1767 to 1772. By comparing and contrasting these two brothers who ran the British Empire for a brief moment, Griffin invites us to consider the American Revolution within its imperial context. I found the parallels between America where independence efforts succeeded and Ireland where they failed particularly thought-provoking. 

Inspector Mallon covers the latter decades of the nineteenth century in Dublin history, which were characterised by unrest, extremist violence, and police strikes. The late 1800s were also the service years of the celebrated Dublin Police detective John Mallon, ‘the Great Irish Detective’. The book explores the behind-the-scenes relationships between official Dublin and the force, and between the police and the political activists. McCracken examines the impact the Dublin detectives, known as G-men due to their work in the G Division, had on undermining the political threats and bringing known Fenians and members of the Invincibles, responsible for the horrific Phoenix Park murders, to trial.

Moira J. Maguire has written a book that could be used by academics yet still fascinates a curious reader. Precarious Childhood in Post-Independence Ireland gives a full view of the system implemented to care for needy children. The study examines the roles of religion and state involved in providing services. Maguire references documents and quotes from reports to give the reader an authentic view of how destitute, abused, and illegitimate children were cared for. 

The late nineteenth century is key to understanding the modern relationship between Britain and Ireland and no book does a better job of defining and exploring that relationship than this one.

The author deftly transitions between Charles Stewart Parnell, the Land War, and the Home Rule movement in Ireland on the one hand and Prime Minister William Gladstone, Queen Victoria, and British parliamentary politics on the other. The central focus, though, is on a murderous conspiracy that had long-range implications for both Britain and Ireland and includes a detective story to solve the murders that could have come straight out of the pages of Arthur Conan Doyle.

The book also includes the story of the informer whose attempts to escape retribution constitute an adventure story in its own right. 

Although a fictionalized autobiography of Sir Roger Casement, martyr of the Irish Revolution, two periods of his life, embedded in this tale, shed light on the evils of capitalism in colonial empires: King Leopold of Belgium’s abuse of the locals in the Congo to profit from their rubber crops, and a similar one in the Peruvian Amazon with a rubber company incorporated in Britain. Casement’s investigations and revelations on these cases lead to his knighthood. However, his belief that colonial nations can only be free if they resist their occupiers with violence, leads him to align with Germany in Ireland’s bid for independence in 1916, following 800 years of colonization. Unfortunately, his secret sexual past is exploited by enemies, and Ireland is liberated in 1922 without its beloved knight.