Sex, grief and debauchery: Belfast author on her blazing debut novel about millennial friendship
As post-Sally Rooney Irish lit is booming, the 32-year-old writer talks to Ellie Harrison about her tale of a group of Belfast women who are stumbling through life and loss as they wave goodbye to their 20s
We've all got that friend. The one who plonks herself down at the pub table, overflowing with anecdotes about the night before. The one who has the whole group in thrall to her stories, each one a marmalade-dropper in its own right and delivered with panache and killer timing.
Whether it's sexual escapades or a slice of office gossip, she's got the tea. It's always a joy hanging out with this friend. A rush. And that's what it feels like reading Thirst Trap, the debut novel from Belfast-born Gráinne O'Hare.
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Telegraph
31 minutes ago
- Telegraph
No wonder Ed Sheeran identifies as Irish – no one wants to be British any more
Ed Sheeran has prompted an online backlash for telling Louis Theroux that he is 'culturally Irish'. Speaking on The Louis Theroux Podcast, the star said 'I class my culture as Irish. I think that's what I grew up with'. 'Just because I was born in Britain doesn't necessarily mean that I have to just be [British], there's loads of people I know that are half this or quarter this', he continued. You and every other kid with Irish parents, Ed. Sheeran 's father is from Belfast – mine are from the Wicklow mountains. In fact, bar the international fame and musical talent, me and Ed are pretty similar. I too spent every summer holiday in Ireland, my parents played De Dannan, my favourite band was Westlife and almost all of my family live in a small village called Donard. And yet, I too was born and raised in England and have no desire to bring my children up in the homeland, either. So why would me or Ed call ourselves Irish? It's easy to scoff at plastic paddies – as many have, causing Sheeran to mount a rather touchy defence of his background on social media. He wrote on Instagram: 'My dad is Irish. My family is Irish. I have an Irish passport. The culture I was brought up around is Irish. The first music I learnt was Irish. Just coz I was born somewhere else doesn't change my culture, I can be allowed to feel connection to a place half of my family is from.' Every American and their mother wants to claim a familial link to the Emerald Isle because Irish culture is, well, cooler. There's music, dancing, poetry and craic. The Irish can poke fun at each other which has always seemed more attractive to me than the po-face tendencies of my English friends. As opposed to the rather staid or even stifling picture of British life growing up in Suffolk that Sheeran paints in some of his other songs, perhaps there's no wonder he's keen on identifying with something a little jollier. It's also worth remembering that being Irish – culture and craic withstanding – wasn't so hot not so long ago. Like my own, Sheeran's father would have memories of the prejudice Irish people suffered while living in the UK. My maternal grandfather, who came to the UK to build the roads and the Blackwall Tunnel, would have had no choice but to identify as culturally Irish, taking refuge among his fellow navvies in the face of 'no Irish, no blacks, no dogs' signs. Paul Brady released his angry song Nothing but the Same Old Story in 1981, 10 years before Ed and I were born, detailing the Irish experience of hatred and suspicion while Bobby Sands died in Long Kesh. Irish people have today completely assimilated into British life, the pubs have mostly shut and much of the prejudice is gone. But none of this is ancient history; it's no wonder many of us can't quite stomach lining up behind the St George's Cross. But while it might be the experience of many immigrants that hostility forced a deeper need to create a home away from home within their British lives – giving their children Nigerian or Bangladeshi or Irish upbringings on a British street – it's also true that first-generation immigrants tend to be less bothered by their cultural identity. I know from my own experience that the fervour of a second-generation child's need for authenticity can make a bigger deal out of cultural identity than necessary. You hear the stories your parents tell of home and want them as your own. In many ways, this simply reveals the importance of family ties. My children have complicated Irish names with fadas and gh's, in part because I married an Englishman and didn't want to lose the small thread that links me and them back to something my family belongs to. Cultural identity is a thorny and important issue. Years of political elites pushing multiculturalism – effectively encouraging immigrants not to assimilate – has meant that not only do many people not feel culturally British, they have no sense of what a British national identity is. In many towns and cities across the UK today, clashes of cultural identity are causing major problems. But what are British values? No politician has been able to answer that question in decades. They resort to mumbling about fish and chips and how good we are at being nice to immigrants. In order to achieve an organic sense of national and cultural identity, you need to have the political will to communicate a national story that people want to identify with. On a holiday to Cornwall, my husband's school friends insisted on sticking a Devon flag on the beach. You don't need to get all David Goodhart to know that a sense of place and a desire for strong roots matter to most people – this means familial identity is often stronger than a national one. But if we want to build a British cultural identity that is more substantial than cliches and more politically attractive to a young generation, we need to think about what we stand for. Jamaicans and Irish and Indian immigrants of the past wanted to become part of British society, we need to ask ourselves why, today, so many immigrants – and their children – do not.
The Herald Scotland
32 minutes ago
- The Herald Scotland
Why The Leinster Hotel was the highlight of 36 hours in Dublin
Orders of omelettes plump with Irish cheddar cheese, mushroom and ham fillings, full breakfasts with locally sourced white pudding or French toast with Wexford strawberry compote are gratefully received: the perfect pick me up and offering ample fuel for the adventures to come. Pictured: The Leinster Hotel is located in the heart of Georgian Dublin (Image: Paul O'Connell Photography) Our room keys had been handed out on arrival by general manager Melanie Nocher, whose East Kilbride accent had come as a surprise, with the connection to home putting the group instantly at ease. However, unlocking the doors to our lodgings would soon reveal that even without a fellow Scot to offer a warm welcome, relaxing into The Leinster's charm is effortless. Read more: The rooms here are bright, bold and full of small flourishes that indicate the team has gone the extra mile to curate a memorable stay. Like a mini bar stocked with anything you might be craving from full-sized bottles of Gunpowder Irish Gin to rejuvenating face masks and packs of Tayto crisps, or a fancy Dyson hairdryer tucked away by the mirror. Pictured: The Collins Club cocktail bar at The Leinster (Image: Paul O'Connell Photography) When we reconvene for cocktails at the Collins Club bar a few hours later, however, there's one feature in particular that's made a lasting impression. 'Did everyone else get a fright from the robot toilets?' one member of the party asks, met by enthusiastic nods in agreement all round. Yup, each of The Leinster's 55 rooms and suites set across four floors is kitted out with a high-tech Japanese 'TOTO' lavvy with multiple different settings and modes quite unlike anything I've encountered before. It would be crass to dwell on the matter, but Nocher assures us that almost all of their guests find themselves as fascinated as we are with this quirky addition to the luxury bathroom setup, which also includes an overhead rain shower and Brooks & Co. toiletries. Moving on then. Let's talk about the Collins Club. Pictured: The Collins Club is named after the late Dublin-born designer, David Collins (Image: Paul O'Connell Photography) Drenched in a luscious shade of crimson, this striking space has been designed with nods to 'Georgian Glam', including a backlit gantry full of experimental spirits created by a team of mixologists who aim to challenge what you might expect from a hotel bar. Take The Juniper, for example, a silky-smooth riff on the classic martini finished with a pickled grape that's wonderfully tart against the botanical gin base. With regular DJ sets and jazz lunches, it's easy to see why this spot is proving popular with hotel guests and non-residents alike. The first of two activities planned is the Guinness Storehouse, a brilliant building that twists upwards like a corkscrew, with each floor peeling back a layer of the world-famous stout's story and legacy until you've reached the bar at the top having, earned an extra pint after learning to expertly pull your own along the way. Pictured: A pint pulled by yours truly at the Guinness Storehouse (Image: Paul O'Connell Photography) This tourist trap is buzzing with crowds for a reason, and taking it all in side by side with holiday makers and stag do parties makes for an incredibly enjoyable experience. Later, there's a chance to explore the area surrounding the hotel, where just a short walk away in Merrion Square Park, the International Literature Festival is in full swing with live performances and street food vendors. Elsewhere, crowds spill onto the streets to sip at their drinks in the afternoon sun as traditional bands strike up a lively tune indoors. As a first-time visitor, there's a lot to take in, but the vibrant energy of the city, poised for the weekend ahead, is utterly infectious. Pictured: The bedrooms at The Leinster are bold, bright and welcoming (Image: Paul O'Connell Photography) Back at the Jean-Georges rooftop restaurant, we have perhaps the best view in Dublin as the sun sets behind our round table on the outdoor terrace space. There, evening melts into night as we feast on dishes that intertwine Irish classics with fresh French and Southeast Asian flavours, including a show-stealing egg toast with caviar and herbs, Lambay Island crab spring rolls with tamarind and seared fillet of Irish beef with asparagus, jalapeno and wholegrain mustard butter. Pictured: The Irish beef fillet served at The Jean Georges restaurant (Image: Paul O'Connell Photography) The next morning, we craftily wriggle out of an 8 am PT session planned at the state-of-the-art gym downstairs at The Leinster, instead making use of their outdoor jacuzzi and sauna to start off our final few hours in Dublin on the right note. Later, there's a stop by the Silver Works on South Great George's Street for a masterclass in jewellery making, each of us leaving thoroughly chuffed to have created our own silver rings as a reminder of the trip. And even more elated to have avoided any accidents while getting to grips with the specialist hammers, saws, and heavy metal files in the process. Though there's more free time scheduled, the draw of the Collins Club is irresistible. Pictured: Step into the lobby at The Leinster (Image: Paul O'Connell Photography) Once more we find ourselves gathered for a late lunch of lemon chicken picatta Caesar salad, Johnstone steak sandwiches with crispy onion and pepper sauce and rigatoni with semi-dried tomato, chilli, mint and pecorino pesto before the call for a taxi to the airport is made. With all there is to see and do in Dublin, finding it so hard to leave the rooms, bars and restaurant spaces at the hotel is a true testament to how special this place is. Of the short 36 hours we had to enjoy in the city, not a second felt wasted in making the most of all that The Leinster has to offer. The Leinster is located at 7 Mount Street Lower, Dublin. For more information, visit
Daily Mirror
3 hours ago
- Daily Mirror
Ed Sheeran's bitter family rift as star faces backlash for identity confession
Ed Sheeran's confession that he identifies culturally as Irish caused backlash online, but his heritage comes after his grandparents' love story which was portrayed in his hit tune, Nancy Mulligan Ed Sheeran has faced backlash following his candid interview with Louis Theroux, in which the singer claimed he 'identifies culturally' as Irish. The Shape of You star, 34, opened up to the journalist on his podcast, revealing his family's heritage. Ed, who was born in Halifax and raised in Suffolk before moving to London to pursue his dreams, recalled his childhood holidays to Ireland. He explained to Louis how his dad, one of eight siblings, is from Belfast. He was born to Nancy Mulligan and William Sheeran. While Nancy was a Catholic from the Republic of Ireland, William was a Protestant who was born in Northern Ireland. The duo fell in love during the Second World War, with their connection causing tension on both sides of the family. Despite the furore from their families, Nancy and William enjoyed a marriage spanning almost seven decades. William died in 2013, while Ed mourned his grandmother's death in 2023, aged 98. The bitter fallout was Ed's inspiration behind his huge hit from 2017 titled after his grandmother. During her funeral, Ed's dad referenced the love story in his speech. He said: "Mum met Dad, a dental student, at a Guy's nurses' home party. Friendship turned into love, but the Northern Ireland Presbyterian side of dad's family did their utmost to end the relationship. "Their wedding was attended by only one family member – mum's twin sister Peggy. They lived above that dental surgery in South London with a growing family. Eventually five boys and three girls. Mum joked to us that she had originally wanted 11 children so she could feel the football or cricket team." Speaking of his heritage, Ed told The Louis Theroux Podcast. "I class my culture as Irish. I think that's what I grew up with. My mum's family is very, very small, it's her and her parents, and my dad's family is… he's got seven brothers and sisters. "We'd spend all of our holidays in Ireland. My first musical experiences were in Ireland, I grew up with trad music in the house. So I identify culturally as Irish, but I was obviously born and raised in Britain.". He added: "I do feel like my culture is something that I'm really proud of and grew up with and want to express. And I feel like just because I was born in Britain doesn't necessarily mean that I have to just be (British), there's loads of people I know that are half this or quarter this." He also admitted the country was "basically my second home musically". " I'd say Ireland is the place that I am most successful musically," he claimed. However, he was met with mixed response to his comments online. "They can have him," one Twitter /X user fumed. "Why can't he just identify as himself," asked another. There were comments of support too, though, with one user explaining: "It's not where you're born. It's your bloodline that determines what you are. "Cliff Richard was born in India. Is he Indian? You can be born anywhere in the world. That doesn't automatically make you part of that culture."
