Trespasses by Louise Kennedy

Posted by Ms K on August 9, 2026 in All | 1 Comment

Gird your loins, Readheads — we’re heading back to Ireland. Again.  I’m ready to abandon these exquisitely tormented Irish novels for something soothing. A bathroom cleaning manual.  Aldi catalogue review perhaps.

When I finished this one, I optimistically picked up Elizabeth Gilbert’s latest thinking it might offer relief. If you’ve read that one, you’re probably laughing out loud right now!! (I am not going to review it – short story, short – I hated it.)

You may have watched the adaptation of Trespasses on SBS. I tried. But this book left me emotionally winded, and despite my undying devotion to Gillian Anderson, I need a breather. Did I love this novel? Absolutely. Did it put me through the wringer? Yep. The Irish have truly cornered the market on tortured love set against political violence — and they do it well.

But enough about my fragile state of Irish-itis. Let’s talk about the book. 

It’s 1975 in Belfast. Cushla Lavery is 24: primary school teacher by day, reluctant barmaid in her family’s pub by night — a pub frequented by loud, leering British soldiers. There she meets Michael Agnew: older, married, cultivated, and dangerous in more ways than one. A Protestant barrister defending wrongly accused Catholic men, he slips between worlds with unsettling ease. Cushla, meanwhile, cannot.

When he draws her into his orbit — and into a secret affair — the stakes are high. This isn’t merely reckless love; it’s potentially life-threatening. You find yourself holding your breath through entire chapters. Every scene feels painfully real. Perhaps that’s why the television adaptation unsettles me: the story already played out in my mind in technicolour.

Louise Kennedy paints  1970s Belfast with startling clarity — grey Land Rovers, streets strung with Union Jacks, the claustrophobic intimacy of daily life under watchful eyes, unexpected bombs and expected gang violence. She excels at atmosphere: the soft thud of a car  door, ashtrays overflowing beside sweating vodka bottles, the heat of shared breath, menace lurking in ordinary conversation. Danger is beneath everything.

It’s a wonderful novel and worth your time.  Just consider this your warning: pace yourself and go gently.

But that is just my two cents worth.