I can barely keep up with the extraordinary output of today's Irish novelists. What strikes me is that, despite the diverse themes and settings of these books, they are all rooted in a moral understanding of the world and its problems. Even when characters are transgressive figures, they are reacting against beliefs about sin and redemption that were inculcated in childhood.
Great literature has always dealt with questions of good and evil. My theory is that Ireland's difficult yet protracted relationship with the Catholic Church — a nationwide dominion unique in the Western world — is the driving force of this literary efflorescence.
Operating somewhat analogously to the basso continuo that provides the baseline and chord progression in Baroque music, the Catholic religion grounds Irish literature in a pervasive awareness of moral strictures. The improvisation that is often an aspect of the continuo can be compared to the way each author alludes to, welcomes, grapples with, or forcefully condemns elements of the religious orthodoxy that had the entire country in its grip.
© Cathy Curtis 2025