EVEN at the best of times, authorised political biographies can make painful reading; arduous sycophancy and spindoctoring which masquerade as astute analysis, alongside triumphant victory-photos and pictures of the children. The only thing that beats them for audacity is the premature authorised political biography, written before the deified subject has actually done anything to write about.

At 32, Brian Crowley is at least 30 years shy of elder statesmanship, but the first biography of his career is nonetheless published this week. It is just over two years since Crowley topped the polls in Munster as a Fianna Fail candidate in the European elections, beating Gerry Collins into second place, and gaining a nationwide profile as the State's youngest ever MEP. It was not just his youth or the size of his win that marked him out paralysed from the waist down at the age of 16, Crowley's win was acclaimed as a triumph for the disabled.

It is this which forms the crux of the reasoning behind Against The Odds, the authorised biography commissioned by Brandon and written by Kerryman journalist Breda Joy. With just two years' experience in Europe and one in the Seanad, there is little to analyse in Crowley's political career at this point; instead, Against The Odds takes Crowley's disability as its core, analysing the efforts it has taken to achieve his success the people involved, and the political heritage Crowley's own career in politics began from, as the son of the former Fianna Fail TD, Flor Crowley.

"There's a few books to be written about my father's career," Crowley says. "There is a great story to be told about his life. My own book came about through Brandon, they asked me to write an autobiography but I said no, I didn't feel I was able to at this point, and so they asked Breda Joy to do it and asked if I would co-operate with her.

"We had about 10 intensive interviews of five or six hours, and she had full access to my family and my friends, and all the details of my background.

"We are all very pleased at the outcome, but my family hated having to do it. They didn't like having to speak about the family, and about the problems within it during my father's career, particularly around the time he lost his seat in 1977, and the trauma of that period. Also, they didn't like talking about the accident, and having to relive that time as well."

The accident happened in April 1980. Crowley was playing football with two friends on a flat roof next to the AlB building in Bandon, Co Cork. Crowley made a leap for the ball, missed, lost his footing, and fell 15 feet on to concrete, crushing his spine. He has been paralysed from the waist down since.

"I don't feel any bitterness or anger about the accident. At the time I was sure I was going to die, and when I didn't die, being paralysed was something I could manage. I used to play soccer and hurling but I didn't miss them after the accident and go and watch matches when I can. I was just so glad not to have died that didn't seem it impossible to adapt to being disabled.

"The worst thing was the loss of spontaneity, not being able to say `Let's go swimming' and just run on into the water, for example. Everything has to be planned when you are disabled, when you go somewhere you have to prearrange how you are going to get in and all that kind of thing. It is second nature to me now, but it took time to get used to not being impulsive.

We found that the hardest part has been the psychology of other people's reactions to you, people assume you can't do a lot of things that have nothing to do with being disabled. They assume you are limited in every way. If a beautiful woman walks into the room, you notice her legs, her mouth, her hair, her face but you don't notice her, who she is. I've found the stereotype that people do treat you as mentally limited simply because you are in a wheelchair. But it's a challenge, and you get beyond that by showing what you are capable of regardless of other people's attitudes."

Crowley's reputation in Brussels and Strasbourg comes from a mixed political approach. Regarded as conservative on several issues he is known for his strong opposition to divorce and abortion, and for his devotion to God. "I am right-wing in certain respects: I think there are much better solutions to marriage difficulties than divorce and equally, I think abortion is wrong.

"The role of children in society is not adequately protected, and it is something I want to incorporate in the renegotiations of the Maastricht treaty that a provision be established that protects children's rights. I had been working towards that long before the paedophile case in Belgium came to light. I am quite left-wing in my attitudes to social affairs, especially education and homelessness, and social welfare generally.

Naturally, he retains an interest in securing greater rights for the disabled. It is not my only concern, but yes, it is an important issue for all the obvious reasons. It is so important that the disabled are not treated like a charity and stigmatised, that disabled people are able to use their full potential."

The biography covers the full extent of Crowley's life to date, and chronicles his time as lead singer with the band Galaxy, a stint as a disc jockey, and a period spent working in his father's auctioneering business. In the end however he chose politics, mainly through the intervention of Albeit Reynolds, who proposed him for the Seanad. "I had no intention of going into politics, and then when I won the Seanad seat Albert came back and suggested I go for the European elections. I love working in Europe, I spend Monday to Thursday there, and the rest of the week in the constituency it is a very enjoyable mix."

His personal life is also laid out in the book, from his first romances to the four-year relationship with a Cork woman, Una O'Sullivan. This broke up in 1990; shortly after Crowley was involved in a near-fatal car-accident in which he broke his collarbone and five ribs, and punctured his lungs in five places. "People do ask if I thought `Why me?'", but I didn't. It was better that it happen to me than to someone who couldn't have handled it. I'd gone through the trauma of it before, and I knew I could handle it again, I thought I would die, and I didn't. I had a lot to thank God for, and I do think God knew it was better happening to me than to someone who would not have survived it."

"I've never considered getting married,"

Crowley maintains, "not even while I was very seriously involved. I do want to marry, but it all depends on who I meet. I would like to marry an Irish girl though. I don't want to do it just because I feel I'm at some point in my life where I should be settling down, just because I'm at that age.

I don't know if I can have children.

Physically, it is impossible in the usual run of things, and if I were to have children it would have to be through in vitro fertilisation. If I couldn't, then I would adopt. Males have very big egos, and though I hate to use the word `normal'. If a normal person couldn't father a child, they might not be able to handle it very well. Being paralysed has helped me be more able to accept it perhaps. It's not insurmountable anyway.

My philosophy as a politician is one that people always laugh at, but I believe I can make a difference, that I can make the world a better place. I believe I can. Not in a big-headed way or anything, Just that if you go about it all without base political instincts and show you can be completely trusted, then you are capable of making real change. I'm an optimist in all aspects of life, it is that which has got me through."