Book Review: The Wild Irish

I think I've mentioned before that history, by and large, is not my strong suit. And within the realm of history, biography is the weakest of my weak abilities to enjoy history. I think this is due primarily to the parched feeling that history tends to leave in my mouth. It's as if the writers themselves are so dusty and old that they can't even work up a good sneeze of excitement about the subject. Then there is the school experience. For example, all I remember about 11th Grade History (AP American History) is the stern lecture after class I received after turning in a paper about the Southwestern Native American tribes that incorporated not only research but my experiences having grown up near a pueblo. And thus, because I didn't fully embrace the romanticized noble savage opinion that she was attempting to thrust down our throats, she gave me the choice of rewriting it "correctly" or receiving a zero.

There have been a few exceptions, thankfully. In college I needed one history class. My AP score got me out of the 101 World History, so I decided on The History of Ancient Greece. I don't think I could have made a better decision. Our professor was old and dusty, but he spoke of the Ancient Greeks as if they were good friends who had preceeded him in death by just a few years and not as if they were relics of a time gone by who should be studied under glass like a fossil. Even our book was ancient, having been published originally in 1915 and, I think, only republished for this professor. It was full of "new and exciting archaeological discoveries" in Greece - and while they were perhaps too enamored of pot shards, they were archaeologists first and historians second. They dug up history and wrote about how people lived rather than pontificating from the comfort of this century. Anyway, the first day, our professor swept into the room (and he is the first and only professor that made me wish that we all wore academic robes, because his sweeping really needed that accompaniment), dropped a huge pile of books on the table with a thump, and announced, "Hubris was the downfall of Ancient Greece. We will trace the development of this condition and, upon finishing, will dine downtown at Zorba's." That was the syllabus for the class. But he accomplished it by weaving in myth and archaeology and literature and, essentially, breathing new life into Ancient Greece so that, for those two hours, you felt as if you walked among the ghosts of a time that had much to teach the present day. If all history was taught like this, I would be an historian.

Because of this I always resist my first temptation to pick up historical fiction at the bookstore, no matter how intriguing the back cover or how tempting the sale sticker on the front. I know that for every stodgy, dusty tomb I put back I'm missing out on two wonderful jaunts back in time. And yet I still haven't made it past the first fifty pages of this book on Shakespeare, whom I adore, and that is a case in point. Thus it was with trepidation that I surrendered to the siren song 20% discount coupled with what I hoped promised to be a tale rife with information about Grace O'Malley - a woman who has fascinated me since I first heard her name. If nothing else, I hoped that my love of all things Irish would overcome any dustiness in this account of Elizabeth I and the Pirate O'Malley.

As it turns out, The Wild Irish couldn't be dusty if it tried.

This book is a rare treat. It covers the story of Elizabeth I's determination to rule Ireland and Grace O'Malley's determination to whatever it took to prevent English rule. But beyond that it creates a rich picture of the people involved: Grace O'Malley and her children, Robert Devereux the 2nd Earl of Essex and sometime favorite of Elizabeth I (in fact, Essex is such a prominent character, his fate intwined so tightly into the actions of Grace and Elizabeth that this book could just as easily have been about him - but that only aids the story, as his descent from royal favorite to executed traitor is a critical thread in the tapestry.)

It's also a fascinating story because it goes farther in painting Elizabeth I in her latter years as a vain, fickle, and frequently cruel queen. In fact, it suggests that Essex is executed not because of his treaty with the Irish nor because of his treason, but because when he came to Elizabeth after the treaty to beg forgiveness and explain, he intruded on her before she was put together for the day and she was humiliated that he'd seen her in that state. And further that he had not attempted to assuage her vanity. The rest of the book is so well researched (I did do a little poking around for facts) that it seems there must be some historical basis for the literary license taken.

In the end, it's made me consider biography again as I'm fascinated even more by Grace O'Malley and, honestly, the last biography I read of Elizabeth I was in the 7th grade, so perhaps a biography written for adults would be worthwhile, if I can find one that isn't dusty. Regardless, I highly recommend this if it sounds at all interesting, I don't think you'll be disapointed.

4.5 Irish Rebels out 5