Some people collect stories. Others seem simply to attract them. Spend an hour in the company of Tony Guerin and it quickly becomes apparent that stories have followed him throughout his life, from the small cottages of his childhood in Listowel to the Garda stations where he served as a detective sergeant, and finally to the pages of the novels and plays that have established him as one of Kerry’s best known literary voices. Mention “Kerry royalty” and he immediately laughs off the description, but there is no doubting the affection with which he is regarded in his native county or the respect his writing has earned over many decades.
Listen to the radio show here (August 4th)
Guerin was born in 1938 in what he remembers as a close-knit community where neighbours depended on one another in ways that are difficult to imagine today. Rural electrification had only recently arrived, most families grew their own vegetables, cut their own turf and shared whatever they had. If someone caught trout in the River Feale, neighbours would soon find fish hanging on their doors. If a family suffered a bereavement, everyone knew instinctively what needed to be done. It was a world built on quiet generosity, and one that would later provide the rich tapestry for much of his writing.
“I think that’s very important, that sense of community,” he says. “That’s what inspired me when I was writing Quilt.”
Life was not without hardship. Tuberculosis cast a long shadow across Ireland during his youth and Guerin contracted the disease himself just as he was preparing to emigrate to America. Instead, he spent twelve months confined to bed in a Cork sanatorium, one of many young people whose lives were interrupted by an illness that touched almost every family. He remembers the patients who never came home, the fear that surrounded the disease and the haunting sound of ‘Jerusalem’ echoing through the wards, sung by a fellow patient who was not expected to leave his bed. Even now, hearing that hymn brings him back to those days.
Rather than allowing illness to define him, Guerin returned determined to prove that it would not dictate the rest of his life. He resumed playing football, represented Kerry and adopted a philosophy that has remained with him ever since.
“You’ve got to keep going,” he says. “I wasn’t going to be knocked back.”
Yet even before tuberculosis, even before football, another part of his character had already revealed itself. School held little attraction. While lessons continued indoors, Guerin’s imagination was somewhere entirely different. Looking out through the classroom window towards MacAuley’s Wood, he watched crows circling freely overhead and found himself wondering why he had not been born one of them instead.
“I hated every day at school,” he admits. “I’d look out the window and see the crows flying, and I’d say, ‘Why wasn’t I born a crow?'”
It is an image that somehow explains the writer he would become. Even as a boy, his imagination refused to stay within four classroom walls.
His career eventually took him into An Garda Síochána, where he rose to the rank of detective sergeant, but storytelling never left him. Following successful surgery to remove a growth on his pituitary gland, he feared his writing days might be over. Instead, within months he was back at his desk, discovering that the stories had not gone anywhere.
“The characters get you up at three or four in the morning,” he says. “They’re talking to you. You have to get up and write it down.”
His latest novel, Quilt, captures many of the themes that have fascinated him throughout his life. Rather than following a single storyline, it weaves together dozens of interconnected lives within a parish, allowing every character, however ordinary, to have their voice. Guerin speaks with enormous affection about the people who inspired him, from the man who carried suitcases from Listowel railway station for a few pints to those whose small acts of kindness helped communities function long before modern conveniences arrived.
“I believe in giving everyone a voice,” he says. “Everyone is wonderful.”
Reality, however, is only the starting point. Guerin cheerfully admits that novelists are entitled to a little poetic licence. Characters are drawn from many lives, conversations merge, memories overlap and, occasionally, entire generations are rearranged if the story demands it.
“I shuffled generations,” he laughs. “Brian Boru might meet Saint Patrick. Sure, why not?”
His characters are never entirely invented, nor are they exact portraits. Instead, they are stitched together from years of observation, listening and imagination. They speak in their own language, never his, and he is careful never to put words into their mouths that they would never naturally use.
“They inhabit your head,” he says.
Perhaps that explains another of his habits. While writing, Guerin avoids reading novels, newspapers and even watching football. He does not want other voices competing with the people already living inside his imagination. For him, writing has never felt like work.
“I never worked a day,” he says. “I loved what I was doing.”
As for the work involved in producing and publishing the book, he was delighted that he could rely on friends and trusted professionals, including his friend, the very talented film producer and designer Gerry McColgan, who created the beautiful cover for Quilt.
Despite the honours that have come his way, including the ‘John B. Keane Lifetime Achievement Award’, presented to him at Listowel Writers’ Week, 2025, Guerin speaks most warmly not about awards but about people, the communities that shaped him, the landscapes of Kerry and the stories that continue to arrive unannounced in the early hours of the morning. Listening to him, it becomes clear that he still sees the world much as he did as a young boy watching the crows over MacAuley’s Wood. Curious, observant and quietly delighted by the extraordinary lives hidden within ordinary places.
Tony Guerin’s Three Songs
Jerusalem
Chosen because it recalls his time in the tuberculosis sanatorium, where hearing the hymn sung by a fellow patient became a memory that has stayed with him throughout his life.
She Moved Through the Fair
A song his father loved to sing, whose beautiful imagery of “a swan in the evening” still paints vivid pictures in his imagination.
The Palm Trees Wave on High
A favourite associated with Paddy O’Brien and Brendan Kennelly, evoking Kerry, home and the enduring pull of the place where he was born.
Wishing Well
If you could change one thing in your life, what would it be?
“I would have learned to play a musical instrument. I envy people who can simply sit down together and make music.”
What do you consider your greatest achievement?
“Marrying my wife, raising our four children and now watching my grandchildren grow.”
Standing in front of the Wishing Well, what would you wish for?
“A cure for cancer, an end to war, and a world that values people above profit.”
