Victor Kelly is the resurrection man, a violent and ruthless Protestant killer roaming the streets of Belfast in the 1970s. In this, his brilliant and shocking debut novel, Eoin McNamee announced his arrival as one of the leading chroniclers of Ireland's fractured past.
McNamee was awarded a Macaulay Fellowship for Irish Literature in 1990, after his 1989 novella The Last of Deeds (Raven Arts Press, Dublin), was shortlisted for the 1989 Irish Times/Aer Lingus Award for Irish Literature. The author currently lives in Ireland with his wife and two children, Owen and Kathleen.
Highbrow noir with a chronic case of narratoritis. Unwilling to wrest nothing less than complete control over his personnel, McNamee clouds this bleak and murderous tale in excessive exposition and thickets of poetic brooding prose, keeping the characters at a constant remove from the reader.
A very impressive and very affecting novel - telling of the dark and grim happenings of sectarian violence in 1970s Belfast, this reminded me of some of the 'Red Riding' series of novels by David Peace - similarly unpleasant and violent, highly realistic, writing of great powerfulness. Some of the similes in this were wonderful, it was highly descriptive without ever getting tied down in pointless describing, and it certainly had an impact on me as a rider.
Only a four though, because I didn't 'enjoy' it all that much - it was too dark and too violent at times, I found much of it difficult to follow (a lack of familiarity with Irish names and places), and the lack of clear characters that you felt you could align with and root for.. it kept me slightly at arms length. This didn't stop me greatly appreciating the significance of Eoin McNamee's talent and style, however.
It gets better in the second half is all that can be said for it.
The real life Shankhill Butchers story is dripping with symbolism and horror. I am not sure if McNamee adds much to the story. He refuses to take Loyalist self-justifications at all seriously and swerves immediately to describing their beliefs explicitly as fascism. I understand he may have been nervous of acting as a mouthpiece for vile propaganda but by failing to explain the Butchers' motivations in their own terms he makes their actions seem random. The violence is so gratuitous and inexplicable that it struck me as ridiculous. Some individual scenes are excellent - the transcript of a witness in particular is excellent - but there is a better novel about the Butchers yet to be written.
Belfast mitten in den Troubles: Gedeckt durch seine Mitgliedschaft bei protestantischen Loyalisten kann der Psychopath und Serienmörder Victor Kelly. Er sammelt eine kleine Gang um sich, führt Mordaufträge aus, aber findet darüberhinaus Zeit für seine eigenen brutalen Taten. Die beiden Journalisten Coppinger und Ryan begeben sich auf seine Spur, ohne ihm jedoch ernsthaft nahe zu kommen. Kelly pflegt seine Mordtaten und sein Image, doch irgendwann passt er auch nicht mehr ins politische Konzept.
Ein Noir aus Nordirland, lose basierend auf der Geschichte der Shankill Butchers. Es ist eine Geschichte von Macht und Gewalt. Kellys Taten erlangen höhere Aufmerksamkeit, weil sie im politischen und gewalttätigen Treiben der Troubles scheinbar legitimiert werden. Belfast ist dabei eine Stadt von Terror, Angst und Sektiererei. Eine lohnenswerte, aber zum Teil auch etwas sperrige Lektüre.
I first read this one years back, when I was 15 or so, and I remember liking it then. Rereading it now, I really think I missed out on just how incredible the writing is. This is beautifully written, almost like poetry in some places, which is not something I usually like but it really works here. It's also a lot funnier than I remember, in the dark, kind of dry way that I remember from when I used to live not so far from where the story is set. It definitely has the atmosphere down right; the descriptions of the city make me feel like I'm back there, especially at night. I've never seen a book nail down how Belfast feels at night quite like this one, nor everyone's complicated relationship with the place.
This book obviously draws heavily from the real-life case of the Shankill Butchers, which is indeed how I found out about the book in the first place. It's impressive in how it draws directly from its real life equivalent right down to some very specific habits, but it still remains its own and it doesn't have to rely on real life to carry it. The method of murder is obviously the same, the areas it happens in the same, the motives the same; Victor Kelly is clearly based on the leader of the Shankill Butchers both in appearance and in the way that both he and his real life counterpart have a traditionally Catholic surname. (His real life equivalent actually had it worse, considering the fact that while he was known as Lenny his whole life, his first name was actually Hugh. Adding in the fact that his last name was Murphy, you don't get much more Catholic-sounding than that.) From there we find even more specific similarities -- Victor going to watch trials in the Crumlin Road Courthouse, the murder in the prison, the way Victor would have his unit drive him around while he recited the place names, right down to how it ends. It really leans on the real life story, but somehow manages to avoid being a rewrite or an attempt to just ride on what's already there. This is very much its own story, and it's a good one.
It's bleak, and it's lonely, and the violence is casual and matter-of-fact, and it descends quickly into the kind of madness that's very difficult to pin down in writing. The writing style helps with this -- almost dream-like, bordering on stream of consciousness in some places, also something I wouldn't ordinarily like but that works well here. The tone captures the style of thinking and speaking so common in the North; every character has their own voice. It really is a fly-on-the-wall kind of thing, and it's a fascinating glimpse into the kind of lives that weren't even a hypothetical at one point. This book honestly feels how Belfast does on a damp night, rain misting rather than falling; the lights and the deserted streets, and the same drop of fear always felt when a car comes crawling up behind you that hasn't lessened even all these years later.
This is the third of Eoin McNamee's I have read, and while 'enjoyed' seems an odd word to use, I did so more than the others. The contrast between the beautiful language it is told in - especially Heather's part - and the horrific activities, especially given that much of what is described must be based on known fact, is compelling. Victor and his compatriots feel like an alien species; Belfast a far-distant place, and it is the knowledge that circumstances brought them to this, circumstances I lived my parallel life to, that adds a horrible fascination and racks the tension up even further.
This is the story of the Resurrection Man, a violent and ruthless sectarian killer who roams the streets of 1970s Belfast. McNamee's novel illuminates the political map of Belfast and dark ring-roads of collective memory. Based on the Shankill Butcher Killings.
This book can be very brutal in its detail of the murders. This, I imagine, does not even measure to how brutal the actual murders were. This book is sad and hard to read at some points, but it is also a very powerful read.
McNamee's writing puts you on the dangerous streets of Belfast. It is a violent time with a terrorist on the loose. In spite of being bleak, it is very enthralling and the poetic cadence of the author's writing keeps you mesmerized until the end.
Avevo scritto una recensione ma si è cancellata. Che nervi. La riscriverò poi, forse. Comunque è un bel libro, Eoin McNamee scrive molto bene. Si ripercorre fedelmente la vera storia degli Shankill Butchers (quei sociopatici brutali che a Belfast tra il '75 e l'81 rapirono torturarono e uccisero più di venti persone, per lo più civili cattolici prelevati a caso in strada) e del loro leader Lenny Murphy; qui lui si chiama Victor Kelly, e invece che di macellai si parla di Resurrection Men. Una storia del genere ha necessariamente i suoi confini nelle atmosfere allucinate della più cupa Belfast degli anni dei Troubles, ed è una storia di orrore nel terrore. Ogni personaggio è vittima del grigiore plumbeo di una città iper violenta; anche l'unica figura facilmente positiva, Ryan il giornalista, non è affatto un personaggio luminoso, oppresso com'è da una atmosfera deprimente, soffocante e cinica. I moventi politici lasciano il posto quasi subito a omicidi à la Jack lo Squartatore, per mano di una microcriminalità megalomane e disperata, ossessionata da un certo tipo di fama televisiva e popolare. Questo rovescio dell'epica cittadina si nota soprattutto nell'affascinante personaggio di Victor Kelly, che è visto fare un gioco con i suoi sgherri: ad occhi chiusi, mentre gli altri guidano, riesce a mappare perfettamente la città, raccontando aneddoti e segreti su ogni via e su ogni abitante, rovesciando appunto la memoria popolare tradizionalmente irlandese in un racconto di minaccia e crudeltà. Quella Belfast è uno specchio delle sue azioni. Kelly è un vero e proprio angelo della paura, e tra anfetamine, megalomanie e orribili e metodiche crudeltà, sprofonda nell'orrore fino a diventare scomodo ed eccessivo anche per gli altri paramilitari lealisti. Man mano che Victor si avvicina alla pazzia, perde l'identificazione con la città, che resiste alla sua lettura e finalmente lo ingoia.
Read this book when it was first issued (I was given it to review). Wanted to like it but thought it completely horrid, and I say that about few books. Partially my detestation is because I found to be so lazy. It sketched a state of mind in the midst of the Troubles but had absolutely no surrounding detail -- events, evocation of place, any hint at a bigger picture. Seemed like the author, without having done any research, just free wrote, making it some extended riff on an uninteresting two-dimensional character with no backdrop of anything, really -- Northern Irish society (the obvious angle), romance, psychopathology, anything.
I would put this at two and a half stars, and here's why: Initially, McNamee's writing reminded me of Esquire writer-at-large Tom Chiarella's, which I hate. I would describe this style of writing as overly rhetorical, indiscriminately mixing slang and archaisms, and prone to vague metaphor. I find it self-indulgent and irritating. With that said, there is rhythm to McNamee's writing that isn't present in Chiarella's. Reviewer John Banville describes it as a "dreamy, poetic immediacy." I would describe it with an adjective I just now came up with..."Irish-y." I am a genius.
Set in Belfast during the 1970s, it follows the life and career of Vincent Kelly, the leader of a group of killers. It also portrays the effect that he and his deeds had on those close to him, his mother's unending denial and belief in her boy's innocence, his lover's descent into depression, the fear his very name generates in the community, and the betrayals that ultimately lead to his downfall.
A thoroughly good read, captivating and fast paced. The similarities with the real-life Shankill Butchers and Lenny Murphy make this book all the more poignant.
It was an excellently written book, the character of Victor Kelly was terrifying. I found myself almost sympathizing with him despite his horrid deeds.
This is the longest short novel I have ever read. It may be only 233 pages long but time after time I found I had to go back and read a sentence or a paragraph again...and again. Language and words clearly mean a lot to Eoin McNamee and several reviewers praise the poetry in the writing however the risk is run of meaning being obscured or made ambiguous. In the context of Northern Ireland language means power. Think back to the days of Paisley (that's Doctor Paisley to you - or was it? Really?), McGuiness and Adams with their careful use of synonym, tone, self-righteousness - on behalf of THEIR misunderstood or misrepresented communities. Language was everything. McNamee reminds us of this and of more about those terrible times but it doesn't half get in the way of what could have been a really good story. I mean, I actually wanted the Resurrection Men to get on and do more killing just to get to the mythical page 233 more quickly.
Quote; Ryan stopped. He realised that Coppinger and himself had always talked like this, exchanging observations about the city, developing small themes and drawing then out to their limits. It was an attempt to create new levels, to resist the city's defintion of itself as violent, divisive, pitiful. He knew that there were also depths of parody in these conversations, a sideshow for good-humoured crowds at the place of execution.
Calling Eoin McNammee the Irish Cormac McCarthy notwithstanding, this is a well written novel about the sectarian violence in Ireland in the early 1960's. Readers who are fans of Derek Raymond may enjoy this novel, not to compare as writers, or even their respective writing styles, but that they bear some similarities in the gritty violence and the same or similar historical context.
Ambientato in una Belfast irreale, pervasa da un odio totalizzante e distruttivo da cui non si salva quasi nessuno, Resurrection Man sembra quasi un romanzo di fantascienza. Ryan e Coppingen (poliziotto e giornalista) sembrano gli umani sul pianeta delle scimmie. Le atmosfere, le azioni, i pensieri hanno qualcosa di talmente estremo da sembrare frutto della più scatenata fantasia. Ed invece è vero. E' tutto vero. E lo stile di McNamee nel ricreare quel periodo è favoloso: frasi brevi, secche, essenziali, ripulite all'osso con un coltello affilatissimo. Victor, Heather, McClure, Biffo, sono indimenticabili: ogni personaggio ha poche righe, ma incise sulla pelle, come una scarificazione rituale, come un taglio con una lama affilatissima, come una vittima di Resurrection Man.
This was a hard book to read because it felt very dry to me, in fact I did say that I was reading purely to finish reading it rather than for pleasure. But somewhere after the half-way point I got into this - not fully, I still dislike the way it was written, but I got into the way the story was told, hints here and there, people crossing paths and the effect that has on them further down the line.
I can see why this book was praised for the way it portrays the troubles between the Catholics and the Protestants, the turmoil and distrust seep through the pages of the book - but for me the dryness of the writing is just not something I can really get past.
a fantastic and vivid book, the genre of which i haven’t read before but is the type of film i enjoy so thought i’d give it a go. eoin mcnamee has created such a lively and gritty atmosphere with the characters feeling as if they could step out of the page at any moment. i loved the introspective thoughts the characters have and how you work through their decision making, guilt and moral self-questioning. at times, particularly with the descriptions of heather, mcnamee’s male gaze lingered for too long and there is a definite objectifying nature aimed towards women, however i am choosing to see this as a reflection of the 70s time period and the sleazy men portrayed in this book.
Set in Belfast at the time of the Shankill Butchers, this novel is grimly realistic while probing a mysterious underlying meaning to the city. “The city itself has withdrawn into its placenames. Palestine Street. Balaklava Street. The names of captured ports, lost battles, forgotten outposts held against inner darkness. There is a sense of collapsed trade and accumulate decline. In its names alone the city holds commerce with itself, a furtive levying of tariffs in the shadow.” Gripping and unsettling read
I was pleasantly surprised by this. I read it as part of my English course this term and I didn't go in with the most exciting thoughts for this. The characters were interesting and the plot was certainly gripping. The writing was a little too flowery and descriptive for my taste, with an already complex dynamic to work out with the Irish troubles, adding complex and wordy sentences didn't help with the understanding but by the end of the novel the long sections of description had begun to grow on me.
far too vague at the beginning. i didn’t know too much about the ni sectarian killings or the shankill butchers going into this, and this wasn’t the most helpful in delineating history. it makes their sadism seem a little arbitrary? it is only in the final act that we see more of victor ruminating on why he believes his cultish murders equate a “purpose”? as aforementioned, the final couple of chapters had some of the best symbolism i’ve read in a while- it’s a shame the rest of the novel was lacklustre.
Extraordinary in so many ways; extraordinarily dark and twisted, vicious and cruel, extreme black humour, extraordinarily lyrical (occasionally the author's style staggers off, full of itself and out of control). All in all, though, beautifully written. Belfast noir, a city at its worst. Gave me the shivers, and at times, almost overwhelmed by a strong sense of disgust. Not for the squeamish or faint-hearted. I will read more of his novels for sure.
One of the more viscerally brutal novels that I have read in quite a while. Given that this is quite closely based on real events, it makes the story - detailing a particularly brutal gang of 'loyalist' thugs in 1970s Belfast - all the more chilling.
Not at all for the faint-hearted, but it is worth the trip down a very dark alleyway...
This book was hard to read. It's a fictional story about a Protestant killer named Victor Kelly who roamed the streets of Belfast during the Troubles. Victor is a member of a group known as the Resurrection Men. Basically, all of the Resurrection Men are targeted by authorities and Catholic militia groups. In the end, Victor is shot dead outside his mother's house by an unknown gang.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.