Stories set on islands have always fascinated me.
Of course, growing up in Ireland you're taught from a young age how our vulnerable position on the precipice of Europe - with our impossible-to-defend borders - left us historically open to all sorts of pillaging, plundering and conquering from the Vikings, the Brits and whoever else fancied a go. Similarly, we also learned how for a long time, that sense of exclusion from the rest of the continent fostered a unique culture; a countrywide cottage industry that for centuries remained untouched by any external influence.
What is it about islands that draws me in? Maybe it’s because it’s so deeply embedded in our psyches, but some of my favourite literature and films have been set on islands. The Wicker Man is a film I could watch over and over again and never get tired of; the gloriously eerie pagan rituals of Summerisle, the full terror of the ending being slowly revealed, the whole community coming together for what they think is the (terrible) common good. Those opening credits, where Edward Woodward’s uptight Sergeant Howie flies over the island in his seaplane before beginning his increasingly ungracious inquiries as to the whereabouts of missing child Rowan Morrison never fails to thrill.
Incidentally, as much as I adore Robin Hardy’s 1973 film, I have never read the book that it’s based upon (David Pinner’s Ritual) as it’s out of print and goes for ridiculous money these days. The novel is actually set in rural Cornwall, but I think moving the film setting to an island adds a delicious sense of foreboding - a true sense of this community, led by Christopher Lee’s domineering Lord Summerisle, being truly removed from the world.
Nevertheless, some of the books I’ve read over the past month have coincidentally been set on islands, too. Sinead Gleeson’s debut novel Hagstone (published April 11th) is a superbly-written and eerie story set on a fictional island 12 hours off the Irish coast, where an offbeat artist called Nell becomes drawn into a secluded, enigmatic community of women known as the Inions. There’s also a mysterious and unexplained supernatural sound that occurs on the island, which only some can hear; it’s both thrilling and creepy to the last word.
Ferdia Lennon’s Glorious Exploits is a different kind of story altogether, but is also set on an island (Sicily) although in a very distinctive era (412 BC). The Dublin-born writer uses language, dialogue and a gorgeous blend of humour and humanity to paint a vivid story of two friends, Lampo and Gelon, who decided to stage a production of Medea with the starving, dying Athenian soldiers imprisoned in the quarries of Syracuse after their failed invasion. Bonkers, yes - but undeniably brilliant.
Of course, there are countless other iconic stories set on islands, from Robinson Crusoe to Lord of the Flies, and one of my favourite books, The Woman in Black by Susan Hill, is partly set on a causeway (a kind of island, I suppose) cut off from the mainland at high tide. Even my favourite sitcom of all time, Father Ted, was set on the fictional Craggy Island. And just last week, I saw an excellent Irish-made film at the Dublin International Film Festival: Woken, directed by Mayo man Alan Friel and starring Erin Kellyman and Maxine Peake, is a very slick, stylish blend of horror, thriller and sci-fi, with Kellyman playing a young pregnant woman who wakes up on - yep, you guessed it - a remote island, not remembering who she is or where she is. And when it comes to telly, I heartily recommend seeking out The Third Day, the incredibly innovative HBO/Sky Atlantic mini-series that first aired in 2020. Set on Osea Island (a place I’d love to visit), it has shades of The Wicker Man with its themes of a strange pagan cult.
Islands can be paradises or personal hells, depending on where you’re coming from - but there’s no question that intrigue abounds in that peculiar kind of isolation.
