Peeling Oranges

by James Lawless

Peeling Oranges tells the story of how Derek Foley, while sifting through his late father's diaries and his mother's correspondence with an IRA man, discovers that Patrick Foley, a diplomat in Franco's Spain, was not really his father. Derek's mother, who is ailing, is unwilling to discuss the past, forcing her son on a quest that will plunge him into the early history of Irish diplomacy, taking him to Spain and later to Northern Ireland, until he discovers who his real father was-with tragic consequences. Peeling Oranges is a novel full of personal and political intrigue, fraught with ideology, as it intersects the histories of two emergent nations-Ireland and Spain. It is also a beautiful and lyrically written love story of childhood sweethearts-the apolitical Derek and the passionate nationalist, Sinead Ni Shuilleabhain.

Genres: Fiction, Spain, Ireland, Historical Fiction

240 pages, Paperback

First published April 20, 2007

About the author

James Lawless is an Irish novelist, short story writer and poet who was born in Dublin. He is an arts graduate in Spanish and Irish of University College Dublin and has an MA in Communications from Dublin City University.

Reviews

[Archit · Rating 5 out of 5]

Go by the name!



With James Lawless, you can always be certain of one thing - He writes excellent books.

You read his books and you are assured that you are looking at a Gold Mine.



You are bound to love his works. This was my 4th novel by the author and my likeness for the books of the author is ever increasing with an exponential rate.

Peeling Oranges portrays a story of a man who is looking for the whereabouts of his real father. He was two years old when his father died or so he was told. When he questioned about it to his mother, all he got was vague answers. Never was a time that he got satisfactory answers.

He was sent to a boarding school where he grew to be more lonely and felt undesirable. His solitude took him to places. His thirst to find out about the truth was never ending.

With his quest, you gear up yourself too.

That's the beauty of it.



I will give this book a solid 5 stars because it stirred various emotions inside my heart. It was so touching, interesting and emotional. It was one of the unforgettable books that I read this year. I adored the way the author has brought up the setting to the story.

This is what I call a historical fiction at its best. Recommends it highly.

[John Dizon · Rating 5 out of 5]

When I picked up a copy of Peeling Oranges by James Lawless, I was expecting a blood bucket of a revenge tragedy that IRA-UDA gang wars tend to produce. Upon reading the blurb that mentioned the Irish-Spanish connection, I figured the author would pull it in a notch the way most novelists do when shifting scenes from the streets of Northern Ireland to the rolling Spanish plains. Well, he did, but not as much as you’d expect. Our protagonist, Patrick Foley, is on a search for truth that crosses paths with hardcore Irish idealists caught in the web of intrigue surrounding Franco’s takeover of Spain during WWII. He finds himself on a collision course with irresistible forces of fate that will redefine his life beyond his expectations as well as those of Lawless’ audience.

The narrative is as much about the female protagonist, Sinead Ni Shuilleabhain (hope you’re not reading this aloud) as it is the major antagonist, Gearoid MacSuibhne. Sinead is from a family of Irish patriots who suffered indignities under the scourge of the British Army, and carries her grudge as a chip on her shoulder. It serves as a psychological scar that Lawless portrays as a physical one that mars the beauty of a beautiful woman. She is a seething character bent on payback, acting as a fitting counterpart to the serpentine Gearoid. Maybe the name gives him away but his beguiling demeanor works masterfully in making Patrick think he holds the keys to the former Spanish kingdom. It turns into a devil’s triangle set against the international scene as both the Irish and the Spanish are seen by the pre-WWII Nazi Empire as pawns in their campaign for world domination. Patrick seeks answers, trying to find out who killed his father and why his enemies in Spain wanted him dead. Gearoid helps him unravel a dangerous mystery, though Sinead suspects the answers may cost more than Patrick is able to pay.

Sound intriguing? You can bet a keg on Guinness on it. Buy a copy of Peeling Oranges by James Lawless and settle back for an Irish classic you’ll long remember.

[Amor y otras ficciones · Rating 5 out of 5]

Peeling Oranges is a book about Irish nationalism, family and their dramas, the search of a father and the loss of a mother, trips and diplomacy, Ireland and Spain, letters and diaries, heartbreaks, oranges, and telling your secrets (either to a tree or to a cliff).

Derek Foley lived his childhood like an orphan: unloved and lack of emotions. His mother has never cared about him in a maternal way: he's never sat on her lap or been said "i love you" or any other kind of affection. Looking through his father's correspondence, he reads and realizes that Patrick Foley, diplomat in Spain during the Francoist dictatoship, may not really be his biological father.



Structurally, the book has three parts, in which we can read Derek's development into adulthood and the search of the truth about who his biological father really is and the secrets his mother never told him or wrote down. The novel mixes the narration with letters and diary entries, which I personally found very interesting and well-written (althought my favourite part, I would say, it's when Gearóid gave the letter to Derek).

Historically, I found it very accurate (at least, the Spanish history, which I know better), recent history but already history. Also, it was interesting that it included Spanish and Irish words and expressions.

Finally, I totally recommend this book, particularly to those who enjoy historical drama books with unexpected twists.

[Sharon Huether · Rating 4 out of 5]

At an early age Derek wanted to know about his father who had died when he was about two years old. His mother never answered any of his questions and later sent his to a boarding school. He felt unloved and unwanted. later on he traveles to Spain where his father was a diplomate. He found some answers there. It wasn't until his mother died that he found out the truth of who his real father was in a letter to be read after his mother had passed. Derek grew up with too much heart ache. The author kept the reader so occupied in the story, that it was heard to stop.

[Malka · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of my favorite ways to pick up a new book is by browsing the aisles of a library or bookstore, because sometimes I will find a book by an author that I have never heard of or read about elsewhere. These books have a tendency to surprise me and go on to become some of my favorite reads because they are hidden gems, discovered purely by chance and not dictated by any bestseller list. Similarly, when I browse online websites like Cheap eBooks, I get excited because I always feel that I am getting one step closer to discovering a new hidden gem. The most recent one I discovered is James Lawless’s “Peeling Oranges,” and it has to be one of the most memorable books I’ve read this year. Well rounded characters, a flawed hero, a thrilling plot and a tender love story rests at its center.

The main character, Derek is on a quest to discover the identity of his birth father and the journey turns into a rite of passage into adulthood; his narrative is vivid and nostalgic, his journey is an odyssey that readers will find themselves heavily invested into. With his mother, Martha, deepening into dementia, Derek utilizes her fading memories and his adoptive father’s diaries to uncover the truth about himself. He asks the questions that almost all of us ask at one point in our lives, who am I and where did I come from? These questions are the burning fuel to his quest.

Read the rest of my review Here,

[Paula · Rating 4 out of 5]

Para mí este libro es uno de los descubrimientos de mi año, por las siguientes razones:

La intersección entre España e Irlanda, así como los paralelismos que se establecen entre ambas.

Los personajes femeninos principales son bastante activos. De hecho, las mujeres tuvieron un papel importante en la transformación política de la República de Irlanda.

Hay partes que me recuerdan a D. H. Lawrence y otras a The Yellow Wallpaper, ya sea por la temática y/o el estilo.

Se disecciona el tema del fanatismo y como puede llegar a cegarnos.

La naranja es un símbolo (y leitmotif) con múltiples significados y funciones.

La novela histórica es un género que he explorado poco, pero tras esta experiencia me lo he replanteado porque se aprenden cosas.

Patrick Foley es el enlace diplomático, la ventana a un pasado político y a la historia familiar que Derek anhela descifrar mediante los diarios y cartas que encuentra. Al estar los fragmentos repartidos a lo largo de la novela podemos valorar el impacto que cada una de estas lecturas tiene en Derek según el contexto en el que aquella se produce.

Las reflexiones de Derek sobre su Irlanda en Pelando naranjas me inspiran a reflexionar sobre el pasado, presente y futuro de mi propio país.

[Bonnye Reed · Rating 5 out of 5]

XXX James Lawless sent me a signed copy of his novel, "Peeling Oranges". I am very grateful - chances are I would not have found this book through my local sources.

I highly recommend this book. Written in the first person, Derek Foley is the child of a single mom, his father dying when he was two. As a young adult, he finds diaries and letters written by his diplomat father, including the fact that Patrick Foley was not his father. Derek's search for his natural father becomes a focus of his life that carries him through the intricacies of the rebellions in Ireland and Franco's Spain.


Please read this book. There are many out there covering the basics of a country at war with itself, but in this novel you are getting an up close and personal look at the lives of the protagonists. From Derek's mother, now suffering from dementia, to his far flung relatives and family friends, he is able to piece together his personal and family history around the freedom fighters of Spain and Ireland. A must read.

[Anne · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'm normally not a big history fan, but I enjoyed this book and the way it used past events to tell such a complex story of a young man trying to discover who his real father is. I had no idea who my father was until I was 14 or 15 so I definitely relate. You really will go to great lengths to find out who you are and where you come from, and that makes this story all the more realistic

[Iznaya · Rating 4 out of 5]

It was a while ago I read this now. Sometimes confronting, historically interesting and an intriguing tapestry of cultures.

[April · Rating 3 out of 5]

Peeling Oranges
: James Lawless

This is the first time I have read or listened to a book by this author. Derek Foley sets out after going through his father's papers, to find out what people are hiding from him. His journey takes him to several places and some of the answers aren't what he wants to hear. It is an intriguing story.



The narration was done by Ganapathy Subrahmaniam. The characters were well portrayed however about half way through I felt myself dozing off. That usually only happens when a voice is monotone such as Kindle read to me. I had to re-listen to make sure I didn't miss anything.



I was given this free review copy audiobook at my request and have voluntarily left this review.

[Ian Wooder · Rating 4 out of 5]

I enjoyed this book.

It was different than what I expected when I first started reading it but I found it to be enjoyable as well as educational by detailing in some details the Irish fighting between the North and South.

You DO NOT have to be Irish or of Irish descent to identify,y or enjoy this good novel. You just have to love a good read.

[James Lawless]

Peeling Oranges: The Provenance of a Novel.

In the nineties I wrote a short story called Diaries about Derek Foley, who sifted through the diaries of his late father, a diplomat in Franco’s Spain, and discovered things to question his paternity. I showed the story to Bernard Farrell, the playwright, who praised it and found what he called a mystical quality in it.
I left the story at that for a number of years, became academic and did an MA. But eventually I went back to the story. Something like an itch or an ache was irritating me. T.S. Eliot described non-creativity in a creative artist as a type of constipation, so maybe it was something like that, something incomplete in the character of Derek Foley who carried uncertainty around with him as he says like a 'wound'. I had got into the habit of researching by this stage, having just completed a thesis on poetry as communication. I found myself in the newly opened national archive in Dublin researching about Spain and early Irish diplomacy, stuff which had been covered up in the past, particularly about Spain and Ireland’s involvement in the Spanish civil war. Slowly, a bigger story began to unfold, and this character Patrick Foley, the diplomat, the dead guy in my short story, began to resurrect.
While many Irish novels have dealt with many aspects of Irish history, to my knowledge this was the first time that Irish diplomacy in Spain figured as a motif. I kept seeing parallels between two emergent nations— Ireland and Spain, on their respective turbulent journeys towards democracy: the civil wars, the poverty, the role of religion, the artistic blossoming: Yeats with his theatre, Federico García Lorca travelling throughout the country with his standup players, with fatal consequences it should be added. Just as things were covered up in Ireland, Franco covered things up too—he always denied any involvement in Guernica or in the killing of Lorca.
Martha, the protagonist’s mother, was a woman from the Liberties and she knew what poverty was from her social work and she shared that empathy with the Spanish poor. But if this novel is about anything, it is about ideology: how it drives people to behave in certain ways. What holds up their part of the sky, as Patrick Foley wonders about Gearóid MacSuibhne when he visits him in his squalid cell in Burgos prison. And Patrick himself, with his religious/sexual contradictions, is even more complex than Gearóid with his to-the-death republican convictions.
In contrast to all of this, the protagonist Derek Foley is apolitical, affording him an outsider’s view of things until he is drawn in of course by his love for the supreme ideologue, Sinéad Ní Shúilleabháin.
The original title of the novel, before it was changed for what was considered simplification, was Perceiving Oranges. This was prompted by Ortega y Gasset's intriguing line 'No one has ever seen an orange'. An orange after all is a sphere. So what I was trying to express was that we all have only partial perception of the world; no one has the whole truth—as professed by some religions or ideologies rendering them inflammatory, something Derek observes on his journey north. The hubris of the all seeing eye is really the limited vision of súil amháin.
Derek got more and more apolitical the more Europeanised he was becoming, reflecting a modern Ireland perhaps moving away from its insularity towards the joining of the EEC in 1973, the significant year when the novel ends
What would Pearse have made of you, Derek? Sinéad says, berating him on his return from Spain when he is critical of her narrow nationalism. It was not of Pearse, Derek was thinking, to look ahead with monovision as the 1916 leader had instructed on the 'ród seo romhainn', but of Picasso and his woman with eyes seeing in many directions simultaneously.
However despite my nostalgia for the old title, the symbol of the orange remains: His peeling of the oranges to ease his mother's emphysema also marked Derek's attempt to peel away the layers of secrecy to get to the truth of his origin. We are covered in seven veils, his mother said, and no one sheds them all.
Oranges were the inducement given to the children to counter the ideology of British imperialism when Queen Victoria visited Dublin in 1900.
Oranges were the only food available to keep Gearóid alive in the trenches during the civil war in Spain.
Oranges became a self-fulfilling prophecy in Yeats’ words, indeed as euphemisms for the IRA bombs that blew up the medieval city of Coventry in 1939.
All the symbols, oranges, lilies, poppies, badges, flags or symbolic actions were, as Martha relates to Derek in a rare revealing moment, the provenance of future directions in life.
And what of the old Liberties, alas decimated now, with motorways ploughing through what were once lanes redolent with their labyrinthine mysteries? Brendan Behan considered anyone who lived beyond Dolphin’s Barn a culchie. Martha’s mother, who sojourned temporarily in Aughavanagh Road, couldn’t wait to get back to the Liberties because of loneliness
Liberties folk were in the main people who Martha claims, contradictorily to Derek’s chagrin (because of her own reticence), wore their hearts on their sleeves; they were not afraid to express emotions—the humour and the sadness of life, which in our more sophisticated age are perhaps more nuanced now. Such open qualities were exemplified in Martha's Huguenot friend, Mrs Chaigneau.
The suburb is represented by Rathfarnham in the novel, perhaps unfairly represented as a cold place to Martha and Derek, but that had more to do with her circumstances than the place itself. The flight to the suburbs, the phenomenon of the fifties where the suburb was seen as the panacea of all ills, a subject in itself and which is the central preoccupation of a later novel The Avenue. But to Martha and to Derek, Rathfarnham represented a place of great trauma and a place that could not be called home to them.
Of course the jolt for Martha was triggered not merely by an internal migration but by a very real emigration—exile to Madrid away from the smell of the Guinness hops and the bakery smells from Jacobs. Exile: a form of dismemberment, according to Patrick, quoting Colmcille. Martha, however, witnessed the same poverty as she did in the Dublin tenements and heard the universal cry of want in the Madrid streets.
But what of Patrick Foley and the world of diplomacy? What was hidden in those archives that de Valera for so many years did not want us to see? He censored the media coverage of the War years to ensure our neutrality, another policy he shared with Franco, despite overtures from Hitler. Things were covered up to keep emotions down.
What is a diplomat? Derek tried to find out through Patrick’s diaries? From the Greek diplomas, the keeping of documents. Patrick, when seeking refuge in the Pyrenees during the Spanish Civil War, had time to reflect on his role. Early Irish diplomacy was seen on the European stage as simply an adjunct to British colonial policy. But by recognising the Franco regime before Britain—and this was crucial—it meant Ireland was now perceived as an independent state. This had huge national and international significance: In 1939 Patrick Foley was instructed to return to Madrid to attend Franco’s victory march. This was taken to mean in diplomatic circles that Ireland recognised the dictatorship, something which Britain had not done. The outcome of such action was that Ireland was now seen as an autonomous state on the international stage.
However the hub of the novel is the discovery of Patrick’s impotence. Hence the quest for paternity which brings Derek on his own adventure to Spain and to Northern Ireland through all the variations of orange to discover in the thick web of history and religion and ideology, who his real father was.
And of course along the way there was Love.
I like to think of Peeling Oranges as a love story first and foremost, and the quest is not so much for paternity but rather for maternal love initially, which coloured the way Derek looked upon love later as an adult, and his confusion with Sinéad was compounded, as we have already said, by her ideology. The bullying incident in boarding school clarifies what Derek felt all along: the lack of love; that his mother did not love him is evident as he seems to be unable to stand up for himself when she packed him away rather mercilessly to boarding school because his prying into her past was appearing to get out of hand.
Sinéad, the love of Derek’s life, the childhood sweetheart, the remembrance of her as the little breastless kid on the Dublin beach, and now suddenly before his eyes transformed from that chrysalis to the university student endowed, as Derek suddenly realises, with all the curves and bumps of womanhood.
But how could he crack that nationalist shell that cocooned Sinéad so tightly in her single-minded purpose? It is the core dilemma of the novel: Is ideology stronger than love? And it is only towards the end of the story that we get some clue to the answer.
Myth and mythmaking are essential parts of storytelling. Someone said the artist should never lose out on a good story for the sake of truth. Perhaps the word accuracy or fact should have been the word used, for the artist is always true or at least striving for a higher truth, a poetic truth, a verisimilitude which strips away the bare facts which sometime can overpower us and blind us in our vision like Dickens’ character Mr. Gradgrind in Hard Times. ‘Now what I want is facts... Facts alone are wanted in life.’ Or Shakespeare’s Shylock in the Merchant of Venice demanding the letter of the law but failing to show mercy.
Myth of course has two meanings: the myth of old stories, the old legends which Martha relates to Derek as a minatory tale in the story of Labhras Loingseach and the king who had horse’s ears. However, to the annoyance of the mother it didn’t have the desired effect as we shall see.
But then there is the other kind of myth: the dangerous modern myths that we try to convince ourselves are true. The myth of history. The way we paint the world with our own colours so that Derek, when he becomes a history lecturer, actually delivers a lecture entitled ‘The function of myth in history’. He poses the question: What happens when myth is broken down?
The Irish language, which features strongly in the novel, could perhaps be saved if it had been stripped of its ideological baggage, as Derek observed while he spoke it freely on a Spanish beach. But it was all tied up with Sinéad and the nationalist cause of Pearse’s vision of 'Éire ghaelach, Éire saor'.
One is made to wonder sometimes if Sinéad saw Derek as a human being at all. Did she notice the love light in his eyes, or was he for her just a concept, a comma in a theory? And so the recurring question: did love win out, or ideology? As Derek listened to the sound of Sunday church bells, he concluded that even bells had their rhetoric. So one is left to speculate on the outcome, until at the eleventh hour a new player entered the fray.

©James Lawless
www.jameslawless.net