From Kerry and Back
by
Book Details
About the Book
Behold the rover! That quintessential icon of Irishness. Perhaps even more essentially Irish than a shamrock, a leprechaun or indeed a pint of Arthur Guinness' Black Gold. What a fascinating study he makes and what a tale for the telling lies hidden within his strange and lonely world. What drove young Irish men in their thousands from such a sweet home only to wander the four corners of Mother Earth with such apparent lack of purpose? What did they seek? How many ever found it, or in truth, ever really needed it?
Behold the rover! So often the object of much light-hearted, yet hurtful banter. Paddy, for that is his usual cover, projects an image of a life lived free from responsibility, ties or cares. A world where 'The Craic' has more meaning and purpose than life itself. But maybe this exterior is a lie, or at best a ruse. Perhaps it is the only face Paddy can bear for us to see, his reality more stark and sad than we can ever guess, more painful than his pride will allow him to reveal.
From Kerry And Back traces the story of one such lost soul, Sean McMorran. Born at the turn of the century near Killarney in the west of Ireland, McMorran is intelligent, spirited and full of love and ambition, but is he destined to fritter away his time in near poverty in some strange and far off foreign land? Or does a better end await him? Here is an examination of his dreams and choices, his joys and regrets, his achievements and despairs. Here we search for the truth behind his existence, revealing him as a victim of circumstances: a man never fully in control of his destiny.
Perhaps you might conclude it was ultimately a wretched and wasted life: A tragedy with nothing at all to commend it. But others might still cherish the memory of his love of peace, solitude and all things Kerry, or even something as simple as his huge, happy smile or his eternal, undying sense of hope.
About the Author
Roderick Fullilove is an Englishman and a post-war South London baby-boomer. A musician and songwriter he was born in 1951, the son of working class conservatives who, by government design, understood little about 20th century Anglo-Irish politics.
From Kerry And Back has been his labour of love these past seven years. But from where did it spring, and what right has he to intrude? He offers no defence, save suggesting the work echoes the guilt most latter day, and better informed, Englishmen feel for what his empire-bent country did to its neighbour over the course of 800 years. So maybe it can be construed as an apology.
He hopes this seeming lack of pedigree will not prove too much of a distraction to any would be readers.