Award-winning travel writer Millman tromps through West Ireland's rugged countryside to record the oral history of its people before their hard-earned traditions are permanently stifled by industrialization and development. In doing so, he produces a "lovely nugget of good writing" ( New York Times ) that relays the personal tales of traditional laborers-the tinkers, cartwrights, rat-charmers, coopers, thatchers, farriers, gleemen, pig-gelders-with candor and depth. "Writing that is altogether finer than anything one has a right to expect." - Washington Post Marketing plans for Notes from the West of Ireland : Events in New England Advertising in key travel, Irish, and literary publications Co-op available Lawrence Millman writes for The Atlantic Monthly , National Geographic , and Smithsonian , and has published nine books, including Last Places and Hero Jesse . He lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
I've written 16 books, including such titles as Last Places, Our Like Will Not Be There Again, A Kayak Full of Ghosts, Hero Jesse, and Fascinating Fungi of New England. I've also explored remote areas in East Greenland and the Canadian Arctic. I'm a Fellow of the prestigious Explorers Club and, in my mycological capacity, past president of the A.S.S. (American Stinkhorn Society).
And here's the most recent news: In January 2017, St. Martin's will be publishing my latest book, At the End of the World: A True Story of Murder in the Arctic. Not only does the book detail a series of murders in the name of religion in 1941 among the (surprise!) Inuit, but also it discusses how digital technology is turning our species into robots.
I started to read this in 2021. Millman interviews rural Irish people in the mid 1970s, a time when Ireland was seeing sweeping cultural changes due, in part, to the EEC as it was then. It’s interesting to a point but is just too outdated now for me so I didn’t finish it.
Read the year I first went to Ireland. Reading about Connemara residents glued to BBC retransmissions of Kojak almost made me cancel my trip. Reality, of course, is a bitch to meet in person. Prosaic Ireland's dead and gone, and with Telly Sevalas in the grave.
A wonderful journey through a vanishing way of life, told in lyrical prose, and dialogue rich in the rhythms of oral tradition. It also serves as a vital record of — and possibly an elegy for — what we are losing as our world becomes one vapid Western monoculture.