Lucy Caldwell writes brilliantly about her hometown of Belfast, and the families who live there. Readers ask how much of her work is autobiographical and it seems that she draws on her own family and friends in the same way that Sebastian Barry does in his plays and novels. Like Barry, Caldwell was first a playwright, and her debut piece Leaves was presented by Druid in Galway before transferring to the Royal Court in London.
Caldwell is centred in Belfast and London, although holding to Kevin Barry’s dogma that it is possible to write about somewhere only after you have lived there for 11 years, means that most of her work is set in the capital of Northern Ireland. Caldwell said that even now she has been in London for as many years as she was in Belfast she is still ‘a Belfast writer. I know that, in my bones’.
In these days she turns her attention to the year 1941 when the North, as part of the UK, was involved in a war against Hitler’s Germany. Like many other British cities, among them Swansea and Cardiff, Belfast underwent a handful of raids by Luftwaffe bombers. Caldwell’s these days recounts the ways in which one family is affected by the attacks.
Here is a nuclear family, as unprepared as anyone for a deluge of bombs falling from the sky. Emma and Audrey Bell, the grown daughters at the centre of the novel, hide with their brother and parents in a ‘cupboard under the stairs’. Little Betty, who comes in to do the ‘rough’ domestic work, has nothing to shelter under but a kitchen table reinforced by two interior doors. Neither family, irrespective of income can shelter underground as the ground in Belfast is too ‘claggy’.
The first raid concentrated on the docks and factories but follow up raids hit residential streets. Those in the public shelters, if receiving a direct hit, were pulverised as the buildings were above ground and provided little protection. Caldwell’s research enables her to provide the military facts but also authentic period touches.
Her description of the interior of the Bell home where the two sisters live with their parents, Florence and Philip, and younger brother, Paul is accurate and detailed, down to the smell of the polish.
Class differentiation, too, is precise. Audrey’s fiancé, Richard Graham, comes from a residence which boasts a housekeeper and a cook. Audrey’s mother has only the cook and Betty. Maisie, a small child, who Audrey meets during a raid, lives in a home with no servants, whilst Betty, whose house is filled to the brim with relatives who have been bombed out, spends all her days at Audrey’s, working for the well-to-do family who do not expect to labour, even during a national emergency.
Caldwell does not make much of religious fractures and presents mixed households of Protestants and Catholics, just like her own. Those who know the city would recognise sectarian areas and there is mention of the civil, and First World Wars, delineating the toll that these conflicts have taken on the population. Florence lost a lover in the Somme and her current partner, husband Philip, is very much a second best, second choice.
Any loss that afflicts the characters of these days adds a new void to the life experiences of those who survive. Any pacts that they make with God to be different, be better, be kinder are worthless in the face of indifferent, disinterested German bombs, which explode regardless of the consequences. An excellent retelling of a forgotten Blitz.
Caldwell, L. these days. faber & faber. 2023.
A version of this review was first published on page 36 of the Weekend section of the Irish Examiner on 21st July 2023. It is reproduced here by permission of the Editor.