Famous writers who say it's the best book they have read about Northern Ireland are probably right. It's slightly inappropriate for me to offer that sort of a comment since it's the only book I have read about Northern Ireland. But it's hard to imagine what could surpass it. One could find more information, detail, erudition and poetry elsewhere, but this collection of conversation-cum-monologues is the real deal. Worthies, professors, literary critics et al who praise Tony Parker's skill as an interviewer and editor are absolutely right. Many voices - some I could never have imagined hearing, some I could scarcely bear to hear - speak from these pages with integrity, passion and colour, and sometimes with an aching drabness more powerful than any colour. It seems as though they speak directly, but something hard-to-pin-down (that has left only traces in the printed word) yet infinitely valuable is added through interaction with the man with the microphone. The particular arrangement and ordering of the voices works extremely well, and the opening chapters about Parker's own eyes being opened to this familiar-but-strange place is helpful for the uninitiated.
I often read books that make me laugh and sometimes read books that make me cry (...getting a bit emotional in my old age, perhaps). There have been books that make me tremble with a kind of dread, a barely-containable heart-fluttering agitation and thirst for what might be coming (...yes, definitely hormones, if not alcohol). Occasionally I even read a book that thoroughly shakes my prejudices. Very rarely do I read a book that makes me tremble, sit up as if stung, laugh and weep all at once. And a book about what other people have done that makes me feel shame (as a child of late-modern liberal Britain and Jeremiah 31:29 let me assure you that I REALLY struggle with certain people's conceptions of identity and corporate responsibility) has to be a pretty special one.