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Dewey Decimal Number: 941.6930824 EAN: 9780140277531 Edition: New Ed ISBN: 0140277536 Label: Penguin Books Ltd Manufacturer: Penguin Books Ltd Number Of Pages: 272 Publication Date: July 27, 2000 Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd Studio: Penguin Books Ltd Related Items:
Editorial Review: Amazon.co.uk Review: Giving up one's dream career as a pop star is one thing--understandable, in fact, if half of what they say is true--but giving up a second, successful career as a Guardian journalist--a post which you readily admit is the realisation of a life-time ambition--could be considered, er, hasty. Whatever, Scottish-born Lawrence Donegan, sometime bass guitarist with Lloyd Cole and the Commotions, packs his notebook and, with nary a glance behind him, walks away from Farringdon Road to a new life in the remote, rural Irish village of Creeslough. Donegan, ay, to be sure, his very name it is that's brought him hot-footed back to delve into his hitherto little-known (and somewhat surprising) ancestry, soon blags his way into a reporter's job on the local Tirconaill Tribune. But then, for a newspaper that is often forced to give beached whales lead story status, the arrival in town of an ex-Guardian journo is not something that could in any way be described as uninteresting. The job is his, for little more than an hour or so's pitiful begging. Alan Cumming, with his own Scottish accent and wonderfully lyrical Irish takes, makes a perfect reader of this beguiling, affectionate tale of a city lad who chooses to jump ship and get back to basics. As in any rural community, it is the brave, feisty and often outlandish inhabitants that make this audio book such a delight. Throw in a meeting with a powerful, despicable American politician and a Hollywood superstar, plus a disarmingly, hilarious account of Donegan's hugely unsuccessful foray into the complex, chaotic game of Gaelic football, and you're guaranteed to be smiling for almost all of No News at Throat Lake. --Running time: 2 hours 45 minutes --Carey Green Amazon.co.uk Review: Guardian journalist and ex-Lloyd Cole and the Commotions bassist Lawrence Donegan always had a hankering to live in Ireland. "It was a back-to-my-roots thing. London was filthy, crowded, expensive. Above all, it was inhospitable. I had lived in the same ground-floor flat for eight years and I still had yet to pass a civil word with anyone in the street." In No News at Throat Lake he says goodbye to all that and exchanges flat, job and girlfriend for a shack in Creeslough, County Donegal. It's no Year in Provence . The shack is rat-infested, the promised job on a farm proves non-existent and there's scant social-life. But Donegan perseveres (partly because he's too ashamed to tell his girlfriend he couldn't hack it) so finds a job on the Tirconail Tribune and mates on the local Gaelic football team. The newspaper, run by a man named John Mcteer ("In another life John McTeer had been Gore Vidal with stronger opinions, Henry Ford with ambition"), revitalises Donegan's enthusiasm for news reporting, as he investigates local life. He goes on a pilgrimage to the shrine at Knock, researches the life of Doris Duke's Creeslough-born butler and, surprisingly, interviews Meryl Streep in this funny and poignant tale of life in rural Ireland. --Tamsin Todd Average Rating:
 Rating:  - He sees life differently, and writes brilliantly.I think most people who read a great deal secretly hope to write, I freely admit I am guilty. And so when I read a razor sharp piece of writing that appears to have been written with as much ease as skill, it's a love hate reaction. Mr. Donegan has senses that are like those we all posses, however that's where the similarity ends. A person hears a phrase spoken; the Author hears it with every possible variation his built in thesaurus provides. We all see an event, he matches, contrasts, or finds a bit of irony, with an infinite number of other events. You do not want to be the subject his attention is focused upon when his wit is at work. He's hyper perceptive, quick and ruthless. Think of a spinning propeller; now walk through it. A poem appears in a paper he writes for, his comment, "I've never seen such a lethal combination of bad poetry and bad taste. It was the anniversary of her death, after all. As soon as I saw it in the Tirconaill Tribune I wished I had never written it". Sure. He went to cover an event where the tension between Catholic and Protestant were taught to say the least. Ever resourceful he "bought a copy of The Illustrated Orange Song Book at a street stall (I wanted to learn the words to "The Pope's A Darkie" just in case I ever needed to ingratiate myself with the Reverend Ian Paisly". In the flow of his narrative it is brilliantly placed and timed. I know my repeating it will anger some. I would suggest they lighten up, wretched pun not intended. This is a memoir of a time spent working for a small newspaper in an even smaller Irish town. It's 90% laugh out loud funny, and perhaps 10% dark, perceptive, social satire. You will enjoy every page, and will hate when it ends. I cannot wait to see Paul Newman play the Priest that saved an island. It will be his next Oscar. Rating: - could not put it downBest book I've read in years. As an ex-patriot who left Ireland 21 years ago I found myself relating to everything in the book. I found myself laughing out loud too many times to count. Thanks Mr. Donegan for such an enjoyable read. Rating: - Opting in, opting out, opting in, opting out.Donegan captures the phrases of the people showing how they are when you make an effort on their terms. Similar to the smiles you might get in France when making an honest attempt at the language, there is a quiet admiration. In Donegal and rural Ireland this comes from participation in Gaelic football. Donegan does the place proud, describing in warm terms, that show it to be not unlike a lot of places, only more rain. Rating: - Maybe no news but plenty of laughs at Throat LakeLawrence Donegan was, you see, a former member of Lloyd Cole and the Commotions who went on to become a reporter with 'The Guardian' newspaper before finding himself in Donegal first on a farm and then on the staff of the 'Tirconaill Tribune.'Knowing him though wouldn't be enough for me to say his book was good even if I thought it wasn't. Even Match of the Day got a miss (well the start of it anyway) as I chortled out loud at Lawrence's recollections of days in Donegal, especially days with the Tirconaill Tribune lads. It is mainly his involvement with the Tribune that gives him the wonderful ammunition for his hilarious, yet sometimes serious look at rural Donegal - from the perspective of somebody arriving from the outside.The title of the book stems from the literal translation of Creeslough (Throat lake) where Lawrence stayed for the best part of a year, mingled with the locals and even managed to worm his way onto the local GAA team. Okay so it was the reserves, but he still got on.The book certainly strips away those Hollywood style myths of rural Ireland with thatched cottages and fairies in the back garden, but in the same token reinforces some of the ideas that we are a breed apart.For instance the Tribune was, let's just say, a bit of a culture shock for Lawrence, but there was no doubt that he loved it. Any reporter would. A paper very much in the same niche type market as the Inish Times, the reports of how the Tribune was put together with late nights and early mornings certainly touched a few chords here.Not that the papers are similar in editorial content or style. No paper is similar to the Tribune, which probably says more about us (other papers that is) than it does of a paper that has the guts to stand for the ordinary person all the time - even when they are wrong. Not one for the subtle approach, John McAteer the paper's 'don't give an eff' editor (okay so he'd say the actual word, highlighting my point I think) could on the back the book become a worldwide celebrity. I could only begin to guess what he'd say to that.From covering a story on stinky and the whale, to his fascination with finding the real story on the Bernard Lafferty tale (you know Doris Duke's Butler) Lawrence had a ball in Donegal a lot of the time. Fantasy of fantasies he even got to meet (well to ask one question to) the girl of his dreams Meryl Streep.Of course his tribute to Diana which caused such an outrage when published by the Tribune will probably ruffle feathers again with some who read it in the book, and his account of his trip to knock. Well, let's just say the more forgiving of those who accompanied him on the bus might say a few rosaries for his soul.- Liam Porter Editor Inish Times  Try searching the Internet for "No News at Throat Lake" or Ebay for "No News at Throat Lake". You might also be interested in the following great products:
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