McDermott has cooked up a fine book of Irish humor. Those unable to travel to Ireland can instead envision themselves in a pub with some other pint-drinking blokes by reading this book. One might even meet the Lord in the Concorde—or more likely Cormac, Joe, and the gang at the Concorde Lounge and Bar in Edenmore, Dublin.

The dialect and expressions are spot on, but with helpful translation for American readers as the spelling is rendered phonetically. For example, Hobbser says, "'Flakey Scalp is on after nine to take yiz into the small hours. Datz if eeh boddaws tih tuhrn up (That's if he bothers to turn up)." Then there's the exchange between Mick and Paddy: "Wotz daht blowhke in gohwhill cawlld (What's that bloke in goal called)?" Mick enquires. "Mosley," replies Paddy. "Oi asskd yeh eez nayim nawht whawht koyinnd eh seeree-ell he had fawh breckfist (I asked you his name not what kind of cereal he has for his breakfast)," quips Mick.

The third chapter is an interesting conglomeration of snippets, punchlines, and plays on words. Arguably the hardest task for writers can be dialogue and humor. McDermott dares to tackle them both and successfully nails them. In fact, reading McDermott is very much like sitting down and having a pint with him in Ireland. He comes across as a clever and funny companion. His writing is conversational, and the dialogue overflows with pure Irish humor. The book is so much fun that readers might wish they knew the author personally (with a translator on hand just in case). But for those who can't make the trip to the Emerald Isle in the flesh, reading this laugh-out-loud book is the next best thing.

Return to USR Home