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192 pages, Paperback
First published September 18, 1997
For the pattern of their lives was as predictable as the seasons. The regular round of necessity was broken by celebrations and feasts: Christmas, Easter, family birthdays. The scope of their lives was tiny but it was profound, and to them, it was immense. The physical bounds of their world were confined to little more than a few fields and houses, but they knew these places with the deep, unconscious knowledge that a bird or a fox might have for its habitat. The idea of home was something they lived so completely that they would have been at a loss to define it. But they would have known to be inadequate such phrases as: 'It's where you are from,' 'It's the place you live,' 'It's where your family are.'I very much suspect that the novel is at least partly autobiographical. The Quinns live in Toomebridge at the head of Lough Neagh, the large lake lying in the center of the province like a splash of tea in the middle of a saucer. Deirdre Madden is from the very same town and the poet Seamus Heaney comes from the same area. My father had business that took him there often when I was a child, and I remember the moist fields, the distant mountains, and the smell of rotting flax; you would think that nothing would change. But Madden's novel is all about change, though it is all in the background. Much of it is negative: the decline of traditional industry, the rise of violence, the deepening rift between the clans. Yet there is also a positive tide that you see only as you look back: the University education of all three daughters, their professional success, and their emancipation from old church shibboleths. And the most significant of all, though merely hinted at: that later in that same year, 1994, the opposing parties would sign their first cease-fire. The peace process had begun.