23 June 2020: Kentucky + Roddy Doyle

Fortunately, the rampant voter suppression that we witnessed in Kentucky today is not related to the absolute delight that is Roddy Doyle. These two things are connected only by the fact that Mr. Doyle, a prolific, Dublin-based writer who’s just released his 12th novel, Love, assuaged my rage about the shenanigans in KY. If y’all don’t think trump is going to do everything in his power to cheat his way to a second term, you are lying to yourselves or you are without the ability to think.

After an injunction was filed, the doors were unlocked and Kentucky voters were allowed to make their voices heard. Watch this powerful footage.

What can you do to safeguard the right to vote? Can you start working in support of vote-by-mail initiatives? Can you volunteer to safeguard polling places and the rights of the voters who show up to cast their ballots as they are Constitutionally entitled to do? Can you pressure the Supreme Court to regret and seriously reconsider the devastating slashes they recently made to the Voting Rights Act? Can you register new voters?

In the meantime, Roddy Doyle. Last year I read and adored his 1999 novel, A Star Called Henry. Set during the Easter Rebellion and the years just after, while reading it I felt I was living in the Dublin slums of the early 20th century: the River Liffey, the dark bicycle rides in and out of the city to share information, the grit, the hunger, the poverty, the GPO, the hope.

I have two of Doyle’s other novels, Smile and Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha, in my to-read pile and this evening tuned in to his live discussion with Politics and Prose via, you guessed it, Zoom. The event was recorded and although the link hasn’t yet been posted, I urge you to keep checking and to enjoy a wonderful 65 minutes with Roddy when you find it.

He has such a warm, slightly mischievous smile, talked about characters and craft in such an easy, accessible way, and even held forth on the word gobshite for a while, noting that trump is a fine example of one. And really, who doesn’t love a lilting Irish brogue coming at them to ease day’s turn into evening. I look forward to reading Love.

All the best to you and yours.