Donal Ryan: 'Mam was great. She was brilliant, really sharp - she could cut you in two'

AS DONAL Ryan is about to take down his opponent, he confesses there are three things he can do well. “I’m a good driver, an unbeaten arm wrestler, and I can write - that's it,” he says.

Over a sturdy table in an old man’s pub, the novelist shares his tactic - although no effort is required to win against this writer.

“I psych my opponent out beforehand. I convince them they’re gonna lose. It feels like I'm boasting now, but I've never been beaten at arm wrestling, even by guys twice my size,” he insists.

It's a talent Donal discovered when he won against the strongest kid in fourth class. After that, he went on to win against everyone - his father Donie, teachers, even rugby players. “I knew beforehand I was going to win. I convinced myself, it was very powerful,” he laughs.

The arm wrestling champion also has quite the talent for storytelling. This August, the Nenagh native  publishes his eighth book, Heart, Be At Peace. It might get your heart spinning - or crack it in two.

A sequel to his debut, The Spinning Heart, his new novel takes us to a small town in rural Ireland where people have weathered the storms of economic collapse and are now looking towards the future. But, as a fresh menace is creeping around the lakeshore, the community’s peace is about to be shattered.

Why a sequel?

“The Spinning Heart felt unfinished, I never felt happy with the way it ended. Every time I’ve done a reading in the last 12 years, somebody asks how characters are getting on.

“People speak about them as though they're real people. I had an idea for years, so I decided I'd write the book with the same characters and describe their lives 10 years later. It felt as though I was writing the wrongs that I'd left extant.”

Set in rural Ireland, the story still resonates with readers across the globe and remains Donal’s most translated book - in 30 languages - perhaps a testament to the vivid portrayal of his characters.

Twelve years ago, Donal’s own situation inspired his debut.

“All of a sudden, we were in this period of austerity after having an artificial boom. The words ‘soft landing’ were used over and over by government, so we expected that was going to be the case. If there was a deflation, it was going to be gradual but, instead, it just went splat,” he recalls.

“I worked in a job where I met people every day who were in really dire straits. I was myself. It was immediate. Our monthly outgoings were way higher than our income. It's a very scary place to be.”

At the time, Donal was a civil servant. Now, he teaches creative writing at the University of Limerick. Some are surprised he is not a ‘full-time’ author.

“Once, at a launch event in Dublin, loads of writers were all going out drinking. I couldn’t because I had work the next day, and they went, ‘You've got a job?’ I said, ‘Yeah, I've got to do a course’. They were sneering about me going to do a course. I was thinking, ‘this is why I've got a house and three meals a day guaranteed’.”

Every summer, Donal writes a novel. And every Christmas, he edits it. His first reader will forever remain his wife, Anne Marie.

“I'd never publish anything she doesn't like. It just wouldn't be worth it,” he says.

The pair first met on a picket line in Limerick.

“Herself and her colleagues were on strike. I was chairman of a neighbouring branch of the same union. My friend and I came to march in solidarity one lunchtime and we met for the first time,” he fondly recalls.

After that first encounter, it took about a year for them to meet again in Clohessy’s - where House now stands on Howley’s Quay in the city.

“She asked me for a light, but she reckons that I asked her that,” he laughs. “I knew at the end of the date we'd get married. I didn't know if she'd say yes, but I knew I was going to ask her.”

It's a certainty he found strange.

“I just knew from the way we were talking and from the kind of person she was - I was going to ask her to marry me someday. It was really strange.”

It would appear the novelist has a knack for predicting how things will turn out. Every year, he predicts who the winner of The Booker Prize will be. Last year, his friend Paul Lynch won the prestigious prize.

“I predicted he'd win for Prophet Song. We had dinner on the docks and I said he’d win it. I thought, ‘Will I put a thousand on him? I’d definitely win three grand’. I didn't make the bet, I thought I’d jinx him,” he laughs.

Donal gets his humour from his mother, Anne, who passed away last year after a long battle with breast cancer.

“She was very funny. Her voice is in loads of my characters. Even characters you think wouldn’t be informed by a middle-aged Irish country woman. Mam was great. She was brilliant, really sharp - she could cut you in two.”

Without his parents, things aren’t the same. He fondly remembers many dinners.

“All being at the same table, having dinner, it was always so enjoyable. It’s hard to get the whole family together now, your parents are this kind of hub that you all revolve around, that keeps us all together.”

As we prepare to part ways, I ask Donal about his live show with Blindboy. Is it weird to be interviewed by someone wearing a plastic bag on their face? 

“It actually wasn’t as weird as I thought it would be,” he smiles. “It was one of the most enjoyable interviews I've ever done on stage. It was a really warm audience. He has to mind his privacy. Because he's anonymous, he can have a normal life. I think he’d have trouble even going to the shop. He’s one of those people that people get comfort from, he makes such sense.”

The interview is coming to a close, but there's still time for some more arm wrestle chat.

“I was at a pub once and there was a rugby player,” Donal shares. “People started arm wrestling. Eventually, I ended up arm wrestling this guy and won. We did the other arm and I won again. I got big-headed and was celebrating. He got really upset and went, ‘I can still show you through that f**king window’. I knew he could, so I had to leave.”