Papillion for Fenians

The Catalpa Rescue by Peter FitzSimons

Back in the 1860’s a gang of Irishmen under the leadership of James Stephens were rounded up for plotting a Rising and sentenced to penal servitude in Western Australia. Some were pardoned after a number of years but those who had been members of the British army were considered particularly despicable and expected to rot in Freemantle jail.

This rip-roaring tale is presented as real history and despite the partisan writing I believe it to be true enough. It presents a band of Irish patriots, including John Devoy, who decide the gesture of rescuing these men is worth the danger of being caught themselves and the outrageous cost involved in buying a ship and sailing to the other side of the planet. One lunatic who wanted to be in the mission, but was rejected, even gets there under his own steam!  Their plan is naive but it works and their exploit is celebrated in America, Australia and Ireland to the chagrin of the Brits. It is mystifying and deeply heart-warming to read how much personal risk ordinary men with no stake in the affair were prepared to take.

The writing style is, to say the least, tabloid but I couldn’t help enjoying it just the same. I’d say it’s perfect lockdown reading.

The Right Stuff / Tom Wolfe

space race

If you haven’t read Tom Wolfe before,  he’s not to everybody’s taste – he’s opinionated, colourful language and a leading proponent of “New Journalism”.

The Right Stuff is, I suppose, a history book of sorts in that it deals with the beginnings of “The Space Race” but it’s mostly about the personalities involved and the (cold war) mindset of the times.  I found it a rattling good read (actually reread) ,  a little like “A Voyage for Madmen” in that it probes why the hell (male) people do the extraordinary things they do at the edges of human behaviour.  Why would a man compete ruthlessly to put himself sitting helplessly (they had no control,  the first US “astronauts” were actually chimpanzees) on top of an unstable and highly explosive (most US rockets had a lamentable record of exploding on the launchpad at that time) rocket?

And, of course, it was always a man – a (very) male red-blooded (!) man.  But what of the non-males – the females?  Because you’d never be selected to be an astronaut unless you were a “family man”.  Family man,  but with considerable licence because you were also considered hotter than a rock star with all the erm,  benefits. And it’s also the story of the wives.

This is not high literature,  it’s just a damn good read (well,  he’s a bit repetitive).

If you like it and you’ve ever wondered why there is so much crap architecture around ,  you might also also enjoy Tom Wolfe’s “From Our House To Our House”