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ST. PATRICK’S DAY ST. PATRICK ’ S DAY another day in Dublin A N O V E L Thomas McGonigle M C GONIGLE N O T R E D A M E THOMAS MCGONIGLE was born in 1944 in Brooklyn. His previous novels, reviewed in the New York Times Book Review, Los Angeles Times, Chicago Tribune, and the Voice Literary Supplement, include The Corpse Dream of N. Petkov and Going to Patchogue. He lives in New York City. Cover Design: Faceout Studio Cover images: Background art: “Pub Crawl Down Memory Lane,” David Sandlin © 1995. Courtesy of the artist. Black & White images are courtesy of the author “This is first-rate prose. From the evidence of both this book and his previously published novel The Corpse Dream of N.Petkov, we realize we are in the presence of a great novelist in Thomas McGonigle. He puts a certain period of Dublin literary history before our eyes with freshness and honesty. Not only that but by his skillful use of modernist techniques he gives the ‘Irish Novel’ a long outstanding and much deserved kick up the arse into the twenty-first century. I praise the work mightily.” —NUALA NÍ DHOMHNAILL, former Ireland Professor of Poetry “A retrospective portrait of a young Irish American in Dublin, St. Patrick’s Day combines the acute vision of the best fictional memoirs from both sides of the Atlantic Ocean. It has both Edward Dahlberg’s acid lucidity and the caustic tone of A Fan’s Notes by Frederick Exley. I make mention of these two uncommon American writers because Thomas McGonigle ranges with the lone rangers, the unique writers.” —JULIÁN RÍOS, author of Larva and The House of Ulysses “Thomas McGonigle is a second-story man called Lamont Cranston. He is the shadow figure who winkles out the secrets that lie in the dark hearts of men. And what better ground to work than the dark city of Dublin, and what better meretricious myth and all the crap that goes with it than the myth of St. Patrick’s Holy Ireland. Never in the history of the Western world has there been such a bogus ‘state.’ Heinrich Böll famously declared, ‘Out on the Atlantic verge lies the beating heart of Europe.’ What he forgot to say was that heart is worn, tattered, and badly in need of a triple bypass, one for each of the leaves on that shamrock, the symbol of this land of benighted hypocrisy.” —JAMES MCCOURT, author of Mawrdew Czgowchwz, Queer Street, and Time Remaining NOTRE DAME REVIEW BOOK PRIZE ...


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