Born in Tipperary, Donal Ryan worked as a civil servant before committing to writing. His first novel, The Spinning Heart, was longlisted for the Man Booker Prize. He has since published seven more novels, including this year’s Heart, Be at Peace, which has just been named the An Post Irish Book of the Year 2024 …
DESCRIBE YOUR PARENTS?
Ordinary rural working people, both of whom loved books. My father was reading Julian Barnes’ A History of the World in 10 ½ Chapters when he died, and Mam was reading Chekov’s short stories. She was only 71 when she died last year from breast cancer. Her till in Tesco in Nenagh was retired in her memory. People really loved her. She was razor sharp. Terminally reductive. She once overheard an American going on about how he was going to see the Burren. She said, “Why would you want to go there? All that’s there is an oul thistle on top of a rock.”
YOU ARE VERY CONNECTED IN YOUR WRITING TO YOUR HOME PLACE, WHAT MAKES IT SO SPECIAL TO YOU?
I once said, when writing about my childhood home, “Not even the books that my parents bought in job lots, or our occasional trips to farflung places such as Limerick, could disabuse me of the notion that the sun and moon and stars orbited the Bethlehem of my happy existence. I was as safe and loved and oblivious to darkness as a child could be”. I was reared among the kind and decent people of north Tipperary, the best people in the world.
DID YOU LIKE SCHOOL?
I did like school. We had so much craic in fifth and sixth year in Nenagh CBS that I couldn’t wait to go in most days. Two teachers of English in particular, Deirdre Cahill for Junior Cert and Martin Slattery for Leaving Cert, were incredibly encouraging. On our last day of school, Martin stopped me and said, “Ryan, promise me you’ll do something with the writing.” It took a while, but I got there in the end. Thanks, Martin.
A lot of people go around screaming their beliefs to the world these days, expecting everyone around them to contort themselves to their template…
WHAT DID YOU THINK YOU’D GROW UP TO BE?
This is a boring answer, but: a writer. But I didn’t do very much about it for a long time. I have two qualifications, a degree in law and a licence to drive rigid lorries. I wouldn’t have been much cop as a lawyer or a lorry driver. I always knew, deep down, that I’d get around to the writing, eventually.
DID IT SCARE YOU TO LEAVE YOUR SAFE JOB IN THE CIVIL SERVICE BEFORE THE PUBLICATION OF YOUR FIRST NOVEL, THE SPINNING HEART?
Not a bit. I was younger and braver at the time. But I had two part-time jobs, one working for my dad and one as a writer-in-residence at UL when I left, and I had a three-book deal, so there was no time to worry.
YOU LECTURE AT THE UNIVERSITY OF LIMERICK IN ENGLISH & CREATIVE WRITING. DOES IT MATTER TO YOU TO ALSO HAVE A “PROPER JOB”?
It really does. No one can predict how a book will do, and I wouldn’t be able for too much financial insecurity. It’s my job to make sure my family are properly provided for. I’d have no problem living o? grants and the free food you get at book launches if I was young and single.
WHAT’S YOUR BIGGEST STRENGTH AT WORK?
My staggering genius.
YOUR GREATEST ACHIEVEMENTS IN YOUR CAREER SO FAR?
Finishing my first novel. I’ll never forget that feeling. Oh my God, it was unbelievable. I genuinely didn’t care if it was never published. I never thought it would be, actually. And for a good while, that thought proved true: pretty much every single publisher and agent in the UK and Ireland sent it back to me with a firm rejection. No thanks. But I was still high from the delight of actually having in my possession a finished novel that I had written, and was happy with. I knew they were all wrong and they’d f*****g regret it, hahaha.
DO YOU EVER THINK YOU HAVE WRITTEN ENOUGH?
I think that all the time. Especially when I’ve just finished a book. It’s no small labour, to write a book. But if I never wrote another word it wouldn’t matter.
WHAT HAVE BEEN THE IMPORTANT FEMALE RELATIONSHIPS IN YOUR LIFE?
My mother, obviously. I miss her so much I can hardly say it. She was so strong, and so funny. She’d make the stones laugh, as my wife, Anne Marie, would say. And Anne Marie, of course. She made me. I wouldn’t be a writer without her. I love her so much. She’s been through cancer twice and loads of other stu? and she’s still as funny and brilliant and beautiful as always. Someone once started having a go on Twitter because I mention her all the time. He said I was “uxorious”. Annie tweeted to him that the 18th century was looking for its word back. Your man went nuclear. Knobhead. He was jealous, I’d say, God love him.
WHAT HAS BEEN THE TOUGHEST TIME IN YOUR LIFE?
There have been so many in the past few years I’d have to just say, the past few years.
WHAT DOES BEING A MODERN MAN MEAN TO YOU?
Being respectful and open-minded but standing your ground when it really matters. A lot of people go around screaming their beliefs to the world these days, expecting everyone around them to contort themselves to their template. A man should mind his family and his own business.
YOU’D LIKE PEOPLE TO REGARD YOU AS …
Unapproachable. I fail miserably there, though.
YOUR FRIENDSHIPS ARE FOR THE MOST PART …
Alcohol-based.
YOUR MOST PHYSICALLY ATTRACTIVE FEATURE IN YOUR OPINION IS …
My feet. They’re absolutely f*****g beautiful.
YOUR FAVOURITE SHOES ARE …
My Doc Marten boots. I love them, love them. My current pair I’ve had since 2000 and they’re going strong.
YOUR EXERCISE ROUTINE INCLUDES …
Daily press-ups and bicep curls, and twice or thrice-weekly runs; five or ten miles per run, depending on how I’m doing for time. I bloody love running.
YOU RECENTLY READ …
A proof of May All Your Skies Be Blue, Fíona Scarlett’s second novel, due out soon [February 2025]. Brilliant, brilliant.
YOU RECENTLY LISTENED TO …
“The Broad Majestic Shannon” by The Pogues, one of the greatest of all songs. And a bit of Lou Reed’s New York, one of the most perfect of albums.
YOU DEAL WITH A SETBACK WITH …
Ignorance and beer-drinking.
CAN YOU SPEAK A FOREIGN LANGUAGE?
Enough French, German and Spanish to get by in restaurants and bars, if I only want an omelette, a steak, or beer. For my acceptance speech for the Prix Jean Monnet, my translator, the wonderful Marie Hermet, coached me phonetically for hours. Then I got a bit embarrassed onstage, thinking how the lads would laugh at me for putting on a French accent, so I read the whole thing in French but with my Nenagh accent. The mayor of Cognac loved it but no one else seemed too impressed.
DO YOU THINK OF EVERYTHING AS POTENTIAL NOVEL MATERIAL?
I do, unfortunately, and I’m sick of it.
