Preface

A Chapter by Sel Whiteley

Jean Paul Sartre famously wrote: “I do not believe in God; his existence has been disproved by Science. But in the concentration camp, I learned to believe in men.” Whilst the suffering was far more terrible in the concentration camps: the killing more vast, systemised and mechanic, the North of Ireland was a living nightmare for all who survived there during the forty years of war. It was never my reality but I hope to capture in this collection an essence of the suffering. Hopefully, it will be the incredible human resilience and warmth of the Irish people even in adversity that will speak to you. Certainly, it spoke to me. As the supreme elegist Wilfred Owen wrote: "My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity."

I have decided to dedicate much of my life to relating the stories my friends told me. The writing is fictionalised but the characters and stories are loosely based on my friends: the first two in particular. The first persona was from West Belfast and it left her deeply psychologically scarred, see 'Falls Road'.
I also worked alongside many other Irish friends, one who was previously an active Republican and also a fantastic songwriter. He continues to be the latter and is, indeed, a darling of the Gaelic League. We have worked on many collaborative poems including 'A Republican Addresses his Commander.' These poems simply record the stories of my close friends and others. Whilst the last is fictionalised many estimate as many as one in five are in mixed relationships in the North of Ireland now, such couples are also a symbol for the future, the unity, strength and bouyancy of the new Belfast. A beautiful young couple madly in love: one Protestant, one Catholic.

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