Blood-Dark Track: A Family History

Joseph O'Neill set out to investigate the imprisoments of his grandfathers, which were veiled in family silence, and found himself having to come to terms with shared and longstanding memories of violence; with a legacy of fierce commitment and political blindness; and with the enchanting and confusing power of nationalism and the fear and complicity of the bystander. He was changed by what he found, and he has written a remarkable book about the ties and limits of kinship. With great tact, he sets the stories of individuals against the history of the last century's most inhuman events.

These areas also combine in the persona of the author, Joseph O'Neill, who has provided an intriguing personal narrative of his own family. His father's side, Catholic, poor, and Republican from Cork; his mother's, Catholic, bourgeois, and apolitical from Mersin (a coastal city near Syria). Their meeting is as fortuitous as it was unlikely.

The author deftly melds the pieces into a coherent whole, despite geographic, cultural, and temporal distances. Because of the personal connection of the author to events, people, and places, it reads more like a novel than a history.

Informing the story is the author's discovery of his grandfathers, both as family and as characters in two distinct, though subtly parallel, historical contexts. I was surprised to find the story so gripping that I finished it in three days.


A Fabulous Book   November 8, 2002
6 out of 6 found this review helpful

I simply could not put this book down. Much more than an entertaining portrait of early 20th century life in some remote places, this is a highly informative social and political history and a compelling reflection on nationalism, patriotism and the fears, violence and intrigues which sometimes accompany them. Mr. O'Neill obviously has talents for both research and scene-painting, and his writing is both literate and engaging. After 340 pages, I was sorry to put the book away. But I feel wiser now that I have made the journey with Mr. O'Neill.


Interesting, Well researched, great read   September 5, 2001
3 out of 3 found this review helpful

O'Neill's "split" background led to an interesting life and a fascinating family history. Great read. Would like to get my hands on his other books. Picked up this book in February and missed his book signing in Dublin by hours. Would really like to know how long it took him to intricately research the book.

must read for Irish history buffs, Turkish history buffs, or WWII.


Brilliant tale of darkness and historical "truth"   January 26, 2002
Mick Gold (London United Kingdom)
This is a brilliant book. The author searches for the reasons why his two grandfathers - one Irish, one Turkish - both ended up in prison during the Second World War. His Turkish grandfather, Joseph Dakad, was interned by the British in Palestine on suspicion of spying for the Germans. His Irish grandfather, Jim O'Neill, was interned by his own government in the Curragh as a member of the IRA. By subtly intercutting the two stories, the book looks at nationalism in two very different contexts - the polyglot post-Ottoman culture of Turkey in the years between the two world wars, and the hidden story of Irish republicanism between De Valera coming to power and the resumption of The Troubles in 1966. In searching for the reasons why these two very different men were interned, O'Neill illuminates the unspoken ideas of nationalism and individuality that permeate (like DNA)the two sides of his family. While he sifts through British intelligence reports on "undesirable" activity in Jerusalem, and discovers who really murdered Admiral Somerville in West Cork in 1936, O'Neill's book is shot through with contemporary echoes of his grandfathers' ordeals. As the author watches Bernadette Sands reject the Good Friday Agreement in the name of Ireland's republican martyrs, and questions Yitzhak Shamir about the morality of political assassination, we realise that the ghosts of these men still haunt today's headlines, and our ancestors can assume the power of an unconscious force over our political reflexes.