Patrick McGinley (born 1937) is an Irish novelist, born in Glencolumbkille, Ireland.
After teaching in Ireland, McGinley moved to England in the 1960s and settled in Kent. He pursued a career as a publisher and author. Among his strongest literary influences is his Irish predecessor, author Flann O'Brien, who McGinley emulates most noticeably in his novel The Devil's Diary.
A great suspense novel by Patrick McGinley which brings to life the isolated world of an Irish hamlet and the intrigue it experiences upon the death of a long time resident.
Yes, there's a murder, thus suspicions, suspense, and red herrings. But as with all Patrick McGinley novels, the real mystery is the labyrinthian Irish ethos, and the way it shapes and, not infrequently, contorts his characters. In this absorbing story, traditional lore fascinates, lulling characters and readers alike until its power to inspire dark deeds emerges.
The story engaged me to the end and kept me curious what would happen next, so I got fairly disappointed when it finished without full details of why the culprit killed Paddy and how he was arrested. Otherwise, I would have given the book 5 stars.
Townsfolk dislikes Nick Ambrose and so do I. He's a harmless good-for-nothing. He has no talent for writing at all yet he overestimates himself as an artist. What kind of artist he could be when he has no sensibility enough to notice disrespect for him among the neighbors? In addition, he's a lazy dreamer who lives on his wife's income yet very critical about her artworks. Every time he talks like a great artist, I say in my mind "Who do you think you are?" whereas surprisingly he asks himself the same question of "Who am I?" just like any philosopher, which somehow doesn't lead to his own flaws and incapability. He's such a helpless narcissist.
Beautiful prose, gentle, thoughtful, and respectful of the locale and its folk, McGinley leads the reader down the proverbial garden path to something irrevocably dark and sad. This small gem of a novel could be described as a meditation on rural life, on tribalism, on family loyalties, and perhaps even on the long-lasting brutal effect of British colonialism, particularly on isolated villagers. There were many times when this reader paused to recall the Jim Sheridan film, The Field, which was based on a John Keane play. It had the same skewed take on a "slice of life" of the Irish. Nothing is predictable, except perhaps for one to expect a shocking ending.
Dated at this stage but the clausterphobia and palpable distrust of living among the squinting windows well drawn. Not many likeable characters (unlike many of those I've met in the area McGinley seems to have set the novel) so hard to empathise.