What do you think?
Rate this book
Richard Patton #9
Shame the Devil
12mo. A very nice copy. b/w portrait frontis. Spotting to first and last few pages. Dw has small tears to extrems. Tanned, mark to spine. red cloth with pictorial cover matching d/w
Textbook Binding
First published August 1, 2001
5 people are currently reading
32 people want to read
About the author
Liam O'Flaherty
128 books77 followersPeople know Irish writer Liam O'Flaherty especially for his short stories, collected in
Two Lovely Beasts
(1948) and
The Pedlar's Revenge
(1976).
This significant novelist, a major figure in the literary renaissance, also wrote short stories. Left-wing politics involved him as was his brother Tom Maidhc O'Flaherty (also a writer), and their father, Maidhc Ó Flaithearta, for a time.
This significant novelist, a major figure in the literary renaissance, also wrote short stories. Left-wing politics involved him as was his brother Tom Maidhc O'Flaherty (also a writer), and their father, Maidhc Ó Flaithearta, for a time.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
May 12, 2025
I’ll start out by stating two things:
I read this in about four hours, cover to cover. I also met this following quote on page 32 (20 pages in) which I think I’ll remember forever. Before this there were already many amazing and fantastical lines, but this one stuck with me
— “It is more necessary for a creative writer to know political economy than for a painter to have eyesight. The writer who remains indifferent to the social movements of his time, or fails to understand them, could never write anything of value.”
I think that also describes this book and its views quite well.
An incredible immersive, engaging read. A semi-autobiographical plot, but also discussions on aspects of society that extend beyond the authors works, wandering and ramblings (those were also quite interesting.)
Though one has to grapple with the fact that on occasion the terminology is “of it’s time”, this book is still a fantastic pervader of anti-racism, anti-capitalism, Communism, Irish liberty, and the freedom of many peoples. It opposes antisemitism, homophobia, and oppression at the hand of the church. The communist and anti-racist rhetorics in particular are interwoven into the plot and referenced very often. For example, at many points the narrator has very interesting and varied dialogues with people he meets — about communism, hitler, Mussolini, and sometimes about racial prejudices. Each time it is fresh, both why they’re talking, the arguments within and the way the dialogue is written. Each character he speaks with feels like a real person you may have met, who holds these bigoted ideas.
The writer is also very engaging when he discusses his ups and downs with writing and publishing. Not even his family life is dull, and the parts that did not interest me as much did not drag on and on.
As it was published in 1934 and discusses events at that time, it is also a fantastical time capsule. For one who wants to see opposing views on the unknowns of the future. Also for one who wants to see its perspective on its past / present.
Very easy English for being written ~100 years ago. Progressive rhetoric for it’s time, and sometimes able to give wisdoms even for our time. Relatable to authors and writers too, if you are one.
Though Shame The Devil unfortunately is a book that has to be found second hand or at a library, I do recommend anyone that has the chance (if ever) to read it.
I got it second hand a couple months ago. I wish dearly I had started it sooner, with how fast I read it. Then I could have reread it over and over again by now.
I read this in about four hours, cover to cover. I also met this following quote on page 32 (20 pages in) which I think I’ll remember forever. Before this there were already many amazing and fantastical lines, but this one stuck with me
— “It is more necessary for a creative writer to know political economy than for a painter to have eyesight. The writer who remains indifferent to the social movements of his time, or fails to understand them, could never write anything of value.”
I think that also describes this book and its views quite well.
An incredible immersive, engaging read. A semi-autobiographical plot, but also discussions on aspects of society that extend beyond the authors works, wandering and ramblings (those were also quite interesting.)
Though one has to grapple with the fact that on occasion the terminology is “of it’s time”, this book is still a fantastic pervader of anti-racism, anti-capitalism, Communism, Irish liberty, and the freedom of many peoples. It opposes antisemitism, homophobia, and oppression at the hand of the church. The communist and anti-racist rhetorics in particular are interwoven into the plot and referenced very often. For example, at many points the narrator has very interesting and varied dialogues with people he meets — about communism, hitler, Mussolini, and sometimes about racial prejudices. Each time it is fresh, both why they’re talking, the arguments within and the way the dialogue is written. Each character he speaks with feels like a real person you may have met, who holds these bigoted ideas.
The writer is also very engaging when he discusses his ups and downs with writing and publishing. Not even his family life is dull, and the parts that did not interest me as much did not drag on and on.
As it was published in 1934 and discusses events at that time, it is also a fantastical time capsule. For one who wants to see opposing views on the unknowns of the future. Also for one who wants to see its perspective on its past / present.
Very easy English for being written ~100 years ago. Progressive rhetoric for it’s time, and sometimes able to give wisdoms even for our time. Relatable to authors and writers too, if you are one.
Though Shame The Devil unfortunately is a book that has to be found second hand or at a library, I do recommend anyone that has the chance (if ever) to read it.
I got it second hand a couple months ago. I wish dearly I had started it sooner, with how fast I read it. Then I could have reread it over and over again by now.
August 12, 2024
Self portrait of an Irish artist through a cracked looking glass.
One of my favorite authors although most of his novels are long out of print. Best known for 'The Informer' and 'Famine' and a master of the short story. This memoir of 1933 paints, and is meant to paint, an unflattering portrait of a time when the writer has fled to France to attempt to overcome a bad case of writer's block. And immediately loses his typewriter. He doesn't drink and drinks too much, has little money but gambles anyway (and if winning then doesn't care), is in turns gregarious and extremely introverted, independent and proud to be a co founder of the Irish Communist party but equally proud to take the English King's shilling and fight in WWI ( while Ireland remained neutral). He believes in brotherhood up to a point, but even more so he is an 'artist' in search of the 'truth' and willing to take advantage of family and friends (especially women) to further his goals.
Finally he recovers his muse and in an orgy of writing (his term is 'lust') completes a story. And then immediately tears it up and tosses it into the ocean.
So he comes across as a bit of a rotter.
And proud of it.
And then he writes another story.
And ends the memoir with it.
And it is powerful and magnificent and, as he must have known, all (almost) is forgiven.
Seán O’Faolain (1): ‘[...] Essentially, I do believe O’Flaherty is like every known Irish writer, an inverted romantic. That is, he sets out in the most self-conscious and deliberate way to attack with violence the things that hurt the inarticulate dream of his romantic soul. For he has a romantic soul; he has the inflated ego of the romantic, the dissatisfaction of the romantic, the wild imagination, the response to the magic of nature, the self-pity of the romantic, his masochistic rage, the unbalance. And there are the claws in which he lifts it up to an enormous height and lets it fall with a crash; while we are yet stunned by his gyring flight, and the reverberation of the impact, he then swoops to see if there is anything worth his respect in what he had already destroyed and, screaming, he flies away unsatisfied.’ (The Bell, June 1941, pp.28-29; quoted in Sheeran, op. cit., 1976, p.96.)
One of my favorite authors although most of his novels are long out of print. Best known for 'The Informer' and 'Famine' and a master of the short story. This memoir of 1933 paints, and is meant to paint, an unflattering portrait of a time when the writer has fled to France to attempt to overcome a bad case of writer's block. And immediately loses his typewriter. He doesn't drink and drinks too much, has little money but gambles anyway (and if winning then doesn't care), is in turns gregarious and extremely introverted, independent and proud to be a co founder of the Irish Communist party but equally proud to take the English King's shilling and fight in WWI ( while Ireland remained neutral). He believes in brotherhood up to a point, but even more so he is an 'artist' in search of the 'truth' and willing to take advantage of family and friends (especially women) to further his goals.
Finally he recovers his muse and in an orgy of writing (his term is 'lust') completes a story. And then immediately tears it up and tosses it into the ocean.
So he comes across as a bit of a rotter.
And proud of it.
And then he writes another story.
And ends the memoir with it.
And it is powerful and magnificent and, as he must have known, all (almost) is forgiven.
Seán O’Faolain (1): ‘[...] Essentially, I do believe O’Flaherty is like every known Irish writer, an inverted romantic. That is, he sets out in the most self-conscious and deliberate way to attack with violence the things that hurt the inarticulate dream of his romantic soul. For he has a romantic soul; he has the inflated ego of the romantic, the dissatisfaction of the romantic, the wild imagination, the response to the magic of nature, the self-pity of the romantic, his masochistic rage, the unbalance. And there are the claws in which he lifts it up to an enormous height and lets it fall with a crash; while we are yet stunned by his gyring flight, and the reverberation of the impact, he then swoops to see if there is anything worth his respect in what he had already destroyed and, screaming, he flies away unsatisfied.’ (The Bell, June 1941, pp.28-29; quoted in Sheeran, op. cit., 1976, p.96.)
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews