Tinteán

Tinteán Editor, Reviewer, and Writer

From book reviews, to news from Ireland, to his Ghosts of Irish Australia series, Frank’s contribution to the Tinteán magazine has been substantial. We don’t know how we will manage without him, but we will try, in his honour, and in gratitude for his work. He was a remarkably collaborative team-member who put his point of view gently, and rode the waves with grace and a sense of fun when the seas became choppy.

Frank was a gentleman and something of a Renaissance man, with interests in sport (if he hadn’t elected to do so much book reviewing, he’d have loved to do more on sport), and in current affairs. He brought his younger brother Gerald in New York into the orbit of Tinteán, and that has been a boon to us as well, one which we hope will continue. Professionally, Frank was a gun-teacher of mathematics, computing, and physics in Ireland and Australia, and several generations of Irish secondary students have used his textbooks. You’ll some traces of these in this issue of Tinteán, including his musings on death not long before he died. It was read at his wake (Australian-style, after the funeral) by a daughter and a very young grandson who had a special connection with Frank.

But for Tinteán, Frank was first and foremost a prolific reader of Irish novels and a reviewer of them. He reviewed for the Irish Echo, The Canberra Times as well as Tinteán. Reading through his book reviews of mostly New Irish Fiction over the years, it is clear to see that while his interests were varied, he seemed to enjoy best well-written prose and fully fledged characters, but not too many with similar names! You get a sense that he made notes as he read these, and this made his reviews at times surprising, high praise mixed in with criticism.

When Frank liked a book, he did not hold back in his enthusiasm for it. Here are some of his comments:

‘This is a complete delight, enthusiastically recommended.’

‘This is a wonderful book, made all the better because there is nothing showy or flamboyant in the prose.’

‘This is a perfectly delightful book, the best remedy for a bad mood or a feeling that life is going too fast.’

‘A superb piece of writing and a great story.’

‘What a first book!’

But he offered gentle criticism too.

‘The word ‘funny’ appears more than once in what they [other reviewers] say, but it is not easy to see any amusement either in the writing or the action.’

‘Although it has won wide praise from readers, it is not entirely clear what all the admiration is about’.

‘You are being battered yes [by the prose]but you cannot but admit that you are being hit with a baton of the brightest hue, jabbed by cattle prods set with literary diamonds.’

And his main bugbear was a book that was overly long and replete with characters. For these sins he responds with humour, and a racy immersive gambit that puts you right in the action of the novel alongside him, the astonished and hard-pressed reader.

‘Just when you are getting in to the story, another group of Irish are introduced: Malone, Dixon, McArdle, Devlin, O’Toole, McDonnell. And Riley is back in the action: what was he again? Towards the end, the story moves to New York where new characters are introduced mercifully not all with Irish surnames, one of whom has the dubious honour of having the last chapter to himself.’

But when he was enchanted by a book, he let us know.

‘And just as you begin to wonder whether this deserves a deeper analysis, the prose gets in the way and you are carried along on a wave of language and images that remind you what a great writer can do with words.’

And in the end, made us want to read it.

Slán agus beanancht, Frank. Ní bheidh do leithéid ann arís.