A Derry Tale: In the beginning — John Boyle

The intoxicating smell of a cube of Walnut pipe tobacco. The watery taste of the cream on the offered sweet. The 'Hello, little boy' as the man steps out of a copse of trees.


These, the boy's addiction to the smell of gas, deep poverty, alienation and the 11+ exam build the terrain that explodes into a quarter of a century of political violence.


This is life seen through the inquisitive eye of a young boy, his older seven sisters and his band of brothers â€" who are drawn ever closer by the brutal murder of one of their number.


His mother, the epicentre of his childhood, is hostage to the vagaries of biology and the diktats of Catholic Ireland â€" diktats that are thrown into hilarious disarray with the arrival of American sailors, their Dixie-cup hats and Chesterfield cigarettes.


Told with striking simplicity, with sensory information swooping and tearing at our hearts, A Derry Tale â€" In the beginning binds together credibly with jumps in time. Moments of great comedy, dry humour, and perceptive description pervade this, the first in a trilogy.