Notes from a Lost Tribe: The Poor Ould Fellas

by Declan Lynch, Arthur Mathews (Illustrations)

Combining the razor-sharp wit of writer Declan Lynch with illustrations and contributions from Father Ted co-creator Arthur Mathews.

Since Declan Lynch and Arthur Mathews first shone a light into this darkest corner of the darkest living room in all of Ireland over a decade ago, things have actually got worse for that almost-forgotten species we call the Poor Ould Fellas - impossible though it seems.

Further confined to their unhappy dwelling places by the drink-driving laws, a new range of challenges have emerged to torment them in a baffling post-analog world, where emails seek to release them from the few remaining shillings that weren't stolen by bankers during the crash.

Now they must negotiate a universe full of new words (falafel, bitcoin, Spotify) and concepts (texting, sexting, going away for the weekend, composing a tweet, growing a beard, online banking) that mean absolutely nothing to them. Notes from a Lost Tribe is a hilarious road map through a world of forgotten men and their equally forgotten dogs, who ask for so little - yet it is denied them.

And still ... somehow ... inexplicably ... they go on.

224 pages, Hardcover

First published September 20, 2018

Reviews

[Joe O'Donnell · Rating 5 out of 5]

In modern-day Ireland, there appears to be one last ethnic minority group whom it is acceptable to mock, pillory, shun and ostracise from society. That group is the indigenous tribe known as “The Poor Ould Fellas”. This, at least, is the argument of Declan Lynch and Arthur Matthews in this hilarious – and occasionally poignant – illustration of Ireland’s most marginalized people.

Who are the Poor Ould Fellas? There are men of simple, miniscule pleasures. They are men who “don’t necessarily want more of anything, they just want less of everything”, clapped-out old lads who “are already half-dead and who weren’t very alive in the first place anyway”. They can be “a bit odd”. But, the one characteristic that defines them above all else, is that they just want to be left alone.

As for the simple pleasures that are keeping them (barely) alive, the Poor Ould Fellas are almost umbilically linked to their Free Travel Cards. When they could still get away with it, they might have engaged in mild levels of drink-driving (“to have ‘two or three glasses of Guinness’ and then drive home in a vehicle which probably can’t go faster than 20 miles an hour anyway on a lonely country road, so lonely there would be nobody around for them to kill”). Their music listening habits don’t extend much beyond Big Tom, Philomena Begley and Johnny McEvoy, but their primary form of entertainment are the death notices on local radio stations. They are the last people in the western world to maintain an affinity for Oxtail Soup. And when it comes to personal grooming, the Poor Ould Fellas are impervious to the charms of Nivea for Men, their one stylistic attribute being a penchant for wearing caps (“as distinctive a statement in its own way as any form of African headdress”).

As to their dislikes about the modern world, these are interminable. You will never see a Poor Ould Fella streaming on Spotify or “trying out a few craft beers”. You will not see them creating snapchat stories by taking pictures of their own dinners. Nor will you see them signing up to LinkedIn “so they can do a bit of networking with other Poor Ould Fellas”. They nurse a never-ending abhorrence of Ryan Tubridy, ‘The Smoking Ban’, and Conor McGregor. They are driven demented by modern tap fittings in public toilets and left bewildered by the concept of razors with more than one blade in them.

Virtually every page of this fantastically-funny book contains a genuine laugh-out moment about the daily petty indignities that must be endured by the Poor Ould Fellas of Ireland - “the only minority whose ancient ways can be utterly disrespected”. The Poor Ould Fellas might appear to be a tribe specific to Ireland, but the writing by Declan Lynch - and the wonderfully deadpan illustrations from Arthur Matthews - are of such a quality that this book should be enjoyed by any reader. And that reader will leave this book feeling a deep sympathy for the Poor Ould fellas, that they have it right, that modern life is indeed rubbish, and that we are all drowning in a sea of bullshit.

[Kieran McAndrew · Rating 5 out of 5]

Humorously observed, but still a sadness pervades how the world has explosively evolved in Ireland over the past twenty years, leaving the poor ould fellas behind.

Lynch writes well and there are some laugh out loud turns of phrase. A good working knowledge of rural Ireland is recommended before reading.

[Darragh Howley · Rating 2 out of 5]

Commentary/criticism of the current state of society today in Ireland from the perspective of a Poor Ould Fella. A group who are largely ignored, forgotten about and arguably badly treated in some ways, especially in terms of government policies. It's all a bit tongue in cheek but I guess the question Is - is it the ould fellas who are refusing to adapt the world around them or is it the world around them making it more difficult for the poor Ould fellas to live their lives, who probably would prefer to be left alone

There are some really clever parts to this book in that it does raise some important issues impacting groups such as the old fellas (transport, free travel passes, access to pubs, loneliness etc). I didn't really find much of it funny though