Reviews of Radio Ireland

Wonderful story that translates to life, family, and paths many have experienced. Love the humorous way it is told, as well as the reality is seems to speak to. This is a view to a time in life that is both humorous and touching in a way that makes one think about past, present,,and future. A glimpse of Irish culture, humor, and the dynamics that are universal in life. Characters and reality come to life in ways that you will enjoy and later give thought to. Quite a nice read.

Funny thing, I think this book will be very therapeutic for some.. it was for me... 

If you enjoy raw, self-deprecating honesty and raunchy humour, you’ll find Brendan to be an endearing narrator. This book reads like listening to friend’s story at a bar

I commend Kevin Mahon for effectively baring his soul to the world through Radio Ireland. This takes guts, and if even one other person struggling with depression or alcoholism is helped through Mahon’s willingness to be painfully honest, he should consider his book an immeasurable success. 

Radio Ireland felt different from the moment I started reading it - personal, confessional, humorous, raw. It feels like the literary personification of its author - genuine, perhaps imperfect and rough around the edges, but so full of warmth and so open and honest that you can’t help but love it. The novel reads like a bar room conversation, and reading this book made me feel like I’d made a friend. It made me want to go for a pint of the black stuff with Kevin, a man I’ve never met. This is a beautifully bitter-sweet, booze-filled Bildungsroman. 

The ending of this book is a big one. It’s been a while since I’ve been stunned at the actions of the main character. After a few days to think about it the ending was right. There are other ways the author could have gone with it. It wouldn’t have been the same.

John Denver once warbled a ditty about coming home to a place you've never been before, and that's just what it feels like for Brendan when he moves to his late father's home of Dublin. An old school chum named Rory has asked Brendan to co-host a radio show, but when Brendan arrives . . . Rory is missing. The show must go on, however, so Brendan is shoved unprepared before a microphone where he turns in a unique, one-man comedy-duo performance that's an instant hit. Before long, he's got friends, and a gal pal, and is well on his way to a deeper understanding of his relationship with his father.

But, unlike the guy in that John Denver song, Brendan has trouble "leaving yesterday behind him," which leads to an ending that I wasn't too happy with, mainly because it seemed out of sync with the rest of the book. That quibble aside, this was a well-written, and entertaining tale about a man who "lost a friend but kept his memory."

Best line? One fellow attempts to describe some "experimental" music as "It's sort of a Hank Williams meets Gwar, just without the Beatles influence."