The Devil’s Own
Waterford, 2022: Brian retires after a lifetime’s service in the Irish Defence Forces and, in clearing out his married quarters, discovers an old British Army issue cabinet, and in it journals from the late 19th and early 20th centuries, written by Arthur, an English member of the Connaught Rangers and his wife, Edith, a colonel’s daughter who suffered ostracisation on her marriage.
Alongside these, inexplicably, is another diary, written by Arthur’s drinking companion, the mysterious Henry, boasting of his record as a pitiless serial killer. Brian’s story and Arthur’s are told in parallel. Even at the remove of a century their experiences often collide, not least in the role that drink played in army life. In fact, Arthur writes his journals, wherever he is posted in the world, from the safe space of the Sandes Homes, to teetotal clubs founded by the evangelical Elise Sandes; some still exist.
McDonald’s writing is particularly convincing around the servicing of British Army soldiers in India, with wallahs dedicated to every need, including the cutting of corns, contrasted with the culture shock of removing to Ireland where Edith has to learn the most basic tasks of keeping house. The book would have benefitted from a closer copy-edit, as in “she placed my son back in my arms, then hugged me so tightly I thought I would break” (so, presumably, would the baby) and inconsistencies such as Edith’s diary stating on the same page “I miss England” and “England holds no appeal to me”. In 1908, no-one would have referred to ‘Ms Elise Sandes’; she would definitely have been Miss.
Those quibbles apart, McDonald has shone a light on an often-ignored aspect of Irish history – including the 1920 mutiny of the Rangers in India – and the unveiling of Henry’s identity delivers a real punch.
