Martin Doyle is the Books Editor of The Irish Times. A former Editor of the Irish Post, he has worked in journalism for over three decades. Dirty Linen: The Troubles in My Home Place offers a personal, intimate history of the Troubles seen through the microcosm of a single rural parish, Martin's own, part of both the Linen Triangle – heartland of the North’s defining industry – and the Murder Triangle – the Badlands devastated by paramilitary violence. He lifts the veil of silence drawn over the horrors of the past, recording in heartrending detail the terrible toll the conflict took, and the long tail of trauma it has left behind. Dirty Linen is shortlisted for the Dubray Non-Fiction Book of the Year. (Photo by The Irish Times.)
Congratulations on making the shortlist for the Dubray Non-Fiction Book of the Year Award! How does it feel?
It feels great, honestly. Having spent two years, off and on, writing something so personal, you want people to read it and find value in it, so I appreciate both the recognition and the platform it provides to raise Dirty Linen’s profile.
Tell us a bit about your shortlisted work?
Dirty Linen is a victim-centred history of the Troubles told through the story of one rural parish, my own. It’s a reflection on grief, loss and memory, inflected by my own bereavement. And told, I hope, with a literary sensibility, the fruit of a lifetime’s reading, and my work as Books Editor of The Irish Times.
What drove you to write this book?
I wanted to get under the skin of the conflict in the North, beyond the hackneyed phrases of politicians and paramilitaries, and show what it was like to live through such violent times.
What was the research and investigative process like of putting together the book?
I read widely on the history of my locality and the North generally; spent a lot of time in local newspaper archives; but the primary focus was on tracking down and interviewing friends and relatives of the victims of every violent death in my neighbourhood.
What was the emotional impact of writing it like?
I found it deeply moving rather than traumatising. I already cared about what my neighbours had suffered. I learned as my knowledge and understanding deepened to care more profoundly. I’m not ashamed to say that some of the stories I was told moved me to tears, not once but several times.
How did you navigate the distance between yourself and your subject? Or alternatively, how did they become intertwined?
My ambition was to close that gap. I lost my wife to cancer 10 years ago. The grief when death is violent and needless is so much more complicated, the wound so much harder to heal. Many victims’ families feel isolated and forgotten as society has moved on and expects them to follow suit. They have done such heavy lifting for us all. I wanted to shoulder some of that burden, if only for a time.
What is next for you? Is there anything pulling at your attention?
I’m mulling over another possible Northern project but also something much lighter.
What An Post Irish Book Awards shortlisted book is next on your to-be-read pile?
I’ve already read many, of course, and am on record as a huge fan of Michael Magee’s Close to Home and Claire Kilroy’s Soldier, Sailor. I’ve read brilliant excerpts from Madhouse by PJ Gallagher and Poor by Katriona O’Sullivan, so they are top of my TBR pile.
Explore the Dubray Non-Fiction Book of the Year Shortlist here.
