This week's paperback reviews

Love and Summer

William Trevor

Penguin, £ 7.99

In William Trevor summers the living is never easy. He has perfected the art of the wryly elegiac; indeed, at 81 he has perfected the art of writing fiction, full stop. This short novel, his first since 2002's The Story of Lucy Gault, has had the critics polishing up their adjectives. Flawless, exquisite, delicate; Love and Summer is all of those and, more to the point, is steeped in wisdom and compassion. What's it about? Oh, this and that. Love, summer, life, death, loss, gain, compulsion, choice. Ellie is a beautiful young convent girl who has married the farmer for whom she was sent to cook and clean. At a funeral in the quiet town of Rathmoye – where, the narrator observes wryly, "nothing happens" – she meets a thin, dark young stranger. What happens next? The drama is in the details; the prose is good enough to eat. And if it doesn't net Trevor a Nobel prize I'll be happy to eat somebody's hat. Arminta Wallace

The Twelve

Stuart Neville

Harvill & Secker, £12.99

A former paramilitary killer, Gerry Fegan, is haunted by the ghosts of those he murdered during the Troubles. Neville's impressive debut charts Fegan's path to redemption as he carves a bloody swathe through post-peace-process Northern Ireland, eliminating those former superiors who ordered the murders. The novel has the page-turning quality expected of a superior thriller, but Neville also has subtle things to say about the nature of post-conflict reconciliation, particularly the hazardous and often hypocritical journey taken when men of war morph into paragons of peace. The narrative spine of the novel is, unapologetically, arrow-straight – once Fegan commits his first murder on behalf of a ghost, the prospect of his carrying out 11 similar murders looms large – but the protagonist is a complex man, and Neville is as accomplished when excavating Fegan's long-buried tenderness as he is when conveying the sordid reality of lethal violence. Declan Burke

Bertie Ahern: The Autobiography

Bertie Ahern, with Richard Aldous

Arrow Books, £9.99

Among the group of new TDs that was returned to the Dáil with Bertie Ahern in the Fianna Fáil landslide victory of 1977 was Pádraig Flynn, who turned up on the first day wearing a white suit. “Would someone tell that feckin’ clown he’s in the Dáil, not the circus?” Charles Haughey was overheard to say. For the usually ultra-

discrete Ahern, we get surprisingly interesting insights into many of his political colleagues in this book. It is a highly readable account of his life, a life governed by a maxim he learned from his parents that "success came from hard work". He admits he devoted himself to his political career at a cost to his family life. Understandably in an autobiography, we get a lot more on the successes than the failures. A notable success was the Belfast Agreement, where Ahern was one of a small band of Irish and British political leaders with the determination and persistence to achieve an end to a conflict that had destroyed thousands of lives. Brian Maye

The Magnetic North: Travels in the Arctic

Sara Wheeler

Vintage, £8.99

While nominally a travel book, this is not merely some egotistical account of the author's adventures traversing the Arctic Circle. Wheeler suffuses her experiences with a myriad of historical nuggets about the region, sprinkling vignettes of old expeditions, explorers and even exploitation through the text. These histories undoubtedly represent the most fascinating aspect of the book; particularly evocative references are repeatedly made to the "shoe-eating" that desperately starving explorers had often been forced to resort to. In addition, Wheeler examines the modern issues that face the Arctic, most obviously the increasingly devastating environmental situation, and also the desperate grab for the area's resources that various countries have begun to shamelessly indulge in. It is testament to the author's ability that the text never lurches into despondency – above all, this is a book that celebrates the inspiring endurance and colourful past of those who populate the area. Sebastian Clare

King Dan: the Rise of Daniel O’Connell 1775-1829

Patrick M Geoghegan

Gill & Macmillan, €12.99

O'Connell declared that future generations would not appreciate how great the achievement of Catholic Emancipation was because they would have no idea of the obstacles he faced. Geoghegan agrees with his subject on this and indeed conveys, in this lively and meticulously researched biography, just how much "the Liberator" was up against. He justifiably presents O'Connell as the founder of modern Ireland and of Irish democracy but also a man of many contradictions. Regarded as the last great hero of Gaelic Ireland, he accepted the decline of the Irish language as inevitable. He advocated a politics of non-violence yet could be an irresponsible mob orator. Although a pious Catholic in old age, he was sceptical as a young man and a Freemason until as late as 1816. A tender and loving husband, he had a number of extra- marital affairs and ran up enormous debts. Geogegan's is a warts-and-all portrait, but O'Connell and his extraordinary achievements are presented in a lively, engaging manner. Brian Maye