The Light At Evening, by Kevin McManus. Published by The Book Social, €12.50
First a confession. I was not aware of the Irish author Kevin McManus until recently. I know him now, thanks to his latest book which is out this week, and I daresay he will become better known to a wider audience thanks to The Light At Evening.
I might be forgiven for not being aware of McManus, as his specialist genre until now has been in crime writing, and also as a poet. His new work is very different, semi-autobiographical, and is a fine example of the writer’s skill. Indeed, the words of two others come to mind when reading this novel.
“Kevin is one of those writers that other authors envy, as he can write just about bloody anything and write it well,” says Nicola Kearns and “he paints the characters and their relationships with a fine brush” is the view of Peter Jearle.
The latter is not such a surprise in this instance, as he undoubtedly drew on personal experiences to help frame this story. An award-winning scribe, the Leitrim native has worked for some three decades as a secondary school history teacher, his wife is a cancer survivor, and his father, also Kevin, died in 2024.
The central character in The Light At Evening is Ciarán, a history teacher and poet in a corner of rural Ireland. He is struggling in the aftermath of his father’s death, dealing with and caring for his mother who is ageing, and coming to terms with his wife Joan’s fight with cancer. His brother Peter lives far away, both geographically and emotionally.
All of McManus’s novels are set in the west of Ireland and he draws on its culture, music, weather, landscape and dialect, not forgetting a particular brand of black humour. Key to this story is the authenticity of both his characters and the language he uses. Readers will easily identify with the people in the book as well as the locations and feel that they are there, eavesdropping on conversations. It is not easy to write about difficult subjects, especially grief and illness, but McManus’s own recent brush with both gives him a special empathy. He sees the best in people, a trait that we are gradually losing, and while there is sadness, humour is never far away.

Shapechangers: 1960s Irish Women Reflect on their Writing Lives, edited by Nessa O’Mahony. Published by Arlen House, €25
Half a century after its founding, Arlen House has issued Shapechangers, a collection of portraits by some 25 Irish writers who were all born in the 1960s. Arlen House is Ireland’s oldest feminist press.
The female writers who tell their stories range over many different literary genres, including fiction, poetry, playwriting, criticism, children and young adult literature, and even songwriting and film. All the subjects are well-known in their sphere, and many were pathfinders and advocates for women’s voices to be heard, and all this in a time when Ireland was changing.
Today, the proliferation of Irish women writers is phenomenal, but it was not always so. One of the best-known and most widely-read writers featured is Emma Donoghue, whose books include Room and The Pull of the Stars.
Shapechangers provides a valuable insight into how women got to this place.

Unseen Ireland, by Joshua Bueva. Published by Greenfinch Books, €35
There is no shortage of coffee table books around, and many of them are pictorial records of Ireland at its most beautiful. If they have any negative, it is that they can be repetitive, highlighting the same well-visited spots. They likely are more often seen on coffee tables far away from Ireland.
Josh Nueva has more than 160,000 followers on Instagram, where you can get a taste of his work. His latest publication is Unseen Ireland, a 220-page feast of amazing photographs with text about each of the almost 50 sites the writer would suggest you visit. Some are in spots that are quite touristy, if beautiful in their own right, but Nueva’s commentary will have you looking at them in a new light.
Being a proud Leinster man, I was a tad disappointed to find just six sites in the province included, but I am sure that does not reflect any bias. All six are certainly gems. Nueva has produced a hybrid of sorts, a volume that is both beautiful and lavish to behold.

Are You Somebody?, by Nuala O’Faolain. Published by New Island,€16.95
Biographies, autobiographies and memoirs are ten-a-penny, most of which are glorified publicity stunts, cashing in on the lives of people who will fleetingly be famous, or indeed infamous.
Every so often, a memoir will be the polar opposite, becoming a modern classic, and this is such a book. I read it first when it was published 30 years ago, and today it still has a relevance. The book caused such a rumpus when it first came out, and the author was again in the spotlight when she spoke with Marian Finucane shortly before her death in 2008.
Nuala O’Faolain’s life story spans some of the most fascinating people in Irish life, in literary circles (Kingsley Amis and Patrick Kavanagh), her time with Nell McCafferty, and so much more.
In spite of having a famous father, she grew up poor and isolated, and she does not hold back on her description of life then, and the impact it had on her.
