Ashes and Aftermath

In a small Northern Irish town during the Troubles, Cushla Lavery, a young Catholic schoolteacher, navigates a world defined by sectarian violence and suspicion. The story opens with the mundane rituals of Ash Wednesday, but the ashes on Cushla's forehead are a visible marker of her identity in a place where such distinctions can be dangerous. The bar her family owns is a microcosm of the town's tensions, with regulars from both sides of the divide, and the ever-present threat of violence lurking beneath the surface. The news is a constant backdrop of bombings, shootings, and political unrest, setting the tone for a narrative where personal and political boundaries are always blurred.

Barroom Boundaries

Cushla's life is split between her work at the Catholic primary school and her shifts in the family bar, run by her brother Eamonn. The bar is a rare "mixed" space, but even here, sectarian lines are drawn in subtle and overt ways. The regulars—ranging from loyalist paramilitaries to working-class Catholics—navigate each other with wary familiarity. Cushla's mother, Gina, is a faded beauty battling alcoholism, and Eamonn is both protective and resentful. The bar is a place of both community and threat, where a single word or gesture can escalate into violence, and where Cushla is both observer and participant in the town's fraught social dance.

Schoolyard Divides

At St. Dallan's, Cushla teaches a class of seven-year-olds who are already fluent in the language of the Troubles: bombs, bullets, and sectarian slurs. The school is a haven of sorts, but even here, the divisions of the outside world seep in. Davy McGeown, a child from a "mixed" family (Catholic father, Protestant mother), is bullied and ostracized, his family's precarious position a reflection of the town's intolerance. The headmaster, Bradley, and the parish priest, Father Slattery, enforce a rigid Catholic orthodoxy, using fear and shame as tools of control. Cushla tries to shield her pupils from the worst of the world, but she is powerless to protect them from the realities of their environment.

Michael's Entrance

Michael Agnew, a Protestant barrister in his fifties, enters Cushla's life as a customer in the bar. He is urbane, witty, and attentive, standing out among the regulars. Their connection is immediate, but fraught with risk: he is married, much older, and from the "other" side of the sectarian divide. Michael's interest in Irish language and culture brings him into Cushla's orbit outside the bar, as he invites her to join a group of friends for Irish conversation nights. Their relationship develops in stolen moments and coded conversations, the secrecy and danger only heightening their mutual attraction.

Family Tensions

Cushla's home life is dominated by her mother's alcoholism and her brother's resentment. Gina's drinking is both a symptom and a cause of the family's decline, and Cushla is caught between caring for her mother and seeking her own independence. Eamonn relies on Cushla to help in the bar but is quick to judge her choices. The family's Catholic identity is both a source of pride and a burden, shaping their interactions with the wider community and with each other. The Laverys' struggles mirror the larger fractures in Northern Irish society, where family, faith, and politics are inextricably linked.

The Irish Conversation

Michael's Irish conversation group is a gathering of liberal Protestants and Catholics, united by a shared interest in language but divided by class and history. Cushla is both welcomed and exoticized, her "native" status both an asset and a source of discomfort. The group's discussions reveal the limits of cross-community understanding, as old prejudices and new alliances surface. Michael's friends are wary of his relationship with Cushla, and she is acutely aware of her outsider status. The group becomes a stage for the performance of liberal tolerance, but the underlying tensions are never far from the surface.

Forbidden Affections

Cushla and Michael's affair intensifies, moving from flirtation to physical intimacy. Their relationship is passionate but fraught, shaped by secrecy, guilt, and the ever-present threat of exposure. Michael's marriage is revealed to be troubled—his wife Joanna is an alcoholic, suffering from depression—but this does little to ease Cushla's sense of shame. The affair offers both escape and entrapment, as Cushla becomes increasingly isolated from her family and community. The risks are real: in a town where everyone knows everyone else's business, discovery could mean ruin—or worse.

Sectarian Shadows

The Troubles escalate, with bombings, shootings, and riots becoming routine. The McGeown family, already marginalized, becomes a target: Davy's father is brutally attacked, and the family is subjected to harassment and intimidation. Cushla's efforts to help—providing food, shelter, and emotional support—draw her deeper into their world, and into danger. The lines between victim and perpetrator, innocent and guilty, become increasingly blurred. The violence is both random and targeted, a constant reminder of the fragility of safety and the cost of crossing boundaries.

The McGeown Family

The McGeowns' plight becomes central to the narrative, their suffering emblematic of the wider community's divisions. Betty, the Protestant mother, is ostracized by both sides; Seamie, the father, is left disabled by his injuries; Tommy, the teenage son, is drawn into the orbit of paramilitaries. Cushla's relationship with the family is both compassionate and complicated—her attempts to help are sometimes misguided, and her involvement puts her own safety at risk. The McGeowns' story is a microcosm of the Troubles, where ordinary people are caught in the crossfire of history.

Lines Crossed

Cushla's efforts to support the McGeowns—arranging free school meals, intervening with social services, offering shelter after their house is firebombed—have unintended consequences. Her actions are viewed with suspicion by colleagues and neighbors, and she becomes a target of gossip and official scrutiny. The boundaries between personal and political, public and private, are eroded. Cushla's relationship with Michael is also under strain, as the pressures of secrecy and guilt mount. The cost of caring, in a world where compassion is suspect, becomes painfully clear.

Communion and Confession

The school's preparations for First Holy Communion and Confession are fraught with anxiety and exclusion. Davy, as a child from a mixed marriage, is singled out for special attention—and punishment—by the priest. The rituals meant to bind the community together instead reinforce its divisions, with shame and fear used as tools of control. Cushla tries to shield her pupils, but her authority is limited. The church, like the school and the bar, is both a refuge and a site of trauma.

The Troubles Escalate

The violence intensifies, touching every aspect of life. Cushla's family bar is threatened, the McGeowns are burned out of their home, and Michael's work as a barrister brings him into increasing danger. The sense of siege is pervasive, with checkpoints, bomb scares, and funerals becoming routine. The personal and political are inseparable: every choice, every relationship, is shaped by the conflict. Cushla's world narrows, her options shrinking as the dangers multiply.

Love and Loss

Cushla and Michael's relationship reaches a breaking point. The pressures of secrecy, guilt, and external threat become unbearable. Michael's wife's illness, his own drinking, and the ever-present risk of exposure strain their bond. Cushla is forced to confront the reality that their love, however genuine, cannot survive in a world so hostile to difference and transgression. The end of the affair is both inevitable and devastating, leaving Cushla adrift.

Betrayal and Blame

After Michael is assassinated—shot in his bed in front of his wife—Cushla is consumed by grief and guilt. The community turns on her: she is interrogated by the police, ostracized by colleagues, and blamed for bringing trouble to her family. The McGeown family is also scapegoated: Tommy is arrested and convicted for Michael's murder, despite the circumstantial nature of the evidence. The machinery of blame grinds on, indifferent to innocence or truth.

Violence at the Door

The violence that has always been at the margins of Cushla's life comes crashing in. The McGeowns' house is firebombed, and Cushla risks her own safety to rescue Davy. The family is forced into exile, scattered and broken. Cushla's own family is also in crisis: Gina's drinking worsens, Eamonn is overwhelmed, and the bar is eventually destroyed in a bombing. The sense of home—already fragile—is shattered.

The Aftermath

In the wake of Michael's death and the destruction of the bar, Cushla is left to reckon with loss and responsibility. She is suspended from her teaching job, shunned by the community, and haunted by the possibility that her actions—however well-intentioned—set in motion the chain of events that led to tragedy. The McGeowns are gone, Tommy is in prison, and Cushla is left with only memories and mementos of what was lost. The future is uncertain, but the past is inescapable.

Interrogations

Cushla is questioned by the police, who reveal they have been surveilling her and Michael for months. Photographs, notebooks, and transcripts are used to implicate her in Michael's murder, or at least in the web of connections that made it possible. The interrogation is both menacing and absurd, a performance of power that leaves Cushla shaken but defiant. She is forced to confront the limits of her own knowledge and agency, and the ways in which she has been both actor and acted upon.

Exile and Memory

The novel closes years later, with Cushla and Davy—now adults—reuniting in a gallery where a sculpture commemorates Michael. Both are marked by loss and survival, their lives shaped by the events of that fateful year. The past cannot be undone, but it can be remembered, and perhaps, in the act of remembrance, some measure of healing is possible. The final image is one of tentative connection, a gesture of hope in a world still scarred by violence.

Characters

Cushla Lavery

Cushla is the novel's protagonist, a young Catholic schoolteacher caught between duty and desire, family and self, community and conscience. She is defined by her empathy—her instinct to help the vulnerable, whether her alcoholic mother, her bullied pupils, or the beleaguered McGeown family. Yet her compassion is also her undoing, drawing her into dangerous relationships and exposing her to suspicion and blame. Cushla's affair with Michael is both a rebellion against and a symptom of her environment: she seeks connection across boundaries, but is ultimately punished for it. Her psychological journey is one of growing disillusionment, as she learns the limits of love and the costs of caring in a world riven by violence.

Michael Agnew

Michael is a Protestant barrister, older and married, whose affair with Cushla is both passionate and perilous. He is drawn to Irish culture and language, seeking connection across the sectarian divide, but is also marked by privilege and detachment. His marriage to Joanna is troubled—she is an alcoholic, suffering from depression—but Michael's own flaws (drinking, infidelity, emotional evasiveness) are equally significant. He is both a victim and a participant in the structures of power that shape Northern Ireland, and his murder is both a personal tragedy and a symbol of the era's senseless violence.

Gina Lavery

Cushla's mother, Gina, is a complex figure: glamorous in her youth, now ravaged by alcoholism and regret. She is both a source of comfort and a burden, her needs dominating Cushla's life. Gina's wit and resilience are matched by her capacity for self-pity and manipulation. Her relationship with Cushla is fraught but loving, marked by moments of tenderness and mutual dependence. Gina embodies the legacy of trauma and loss that haunts the family and the community.

Eamonn Lavery

Cushla's older brother, Eamonn, runs the family bar and shoulders the responsibilities of the household after their father's death. He is both caring and controlling, quick to anger and slow to forgive. Eamonn resents Cushla's independence and her choices, but is also fiercely loyal. His own struggles—with the bar, with Marian and their children, with the pressures of the Troubles—mirror the larger anxieties of Northern Irish masculinity and family life.

Davy McGeown

Davy is a seven-year-old pupil in Cushla's class, the child of a mixed marriage, and a victim of both sectarian bullying and family trauma. His vulnerability draws Cushla's compassion, and his story becomes a focal point for the novel's exploration of innocence under siege. Davy's resilience and capacity for joy, even in the face of violence and loss, offer a glimmer of hope in an otherwise bleak landscape.

Betty McGeown

Betty is Davy's mother, a Protestant married to a Catholic, and thus doubly ostracized. She is practical and loving, but overwhelmed by the pressures of poverty, violence, and social exclusion. Betty's efforts to hold her family together are heroic, but ultimately insufficient in the face of relentless hostility. Her story is a testament to the costs of crossing boundaries in a divided society.

Tommy McGeown

Tommy is Davy's teenage brother, drawn into the orbit of paramilitaries and ultimately convicted of Michael's murder. His anger and alienation are products of both personal and political forces: the loss of his father's health, the family's persecution, the lack of opportunity. Tommy's fate is both tragic and inevitable, a casualty of a system that offers few alternatives to violence.

Bradley

The headmaster of St. Dallan's, Bradley is a figure of authority who enforces the rules of the Catholic community with little compassion. He is more concerned with appearances and discipline than with the welfare of his pupils, and his actions often exacerbate the suffering of the vulnerable. Bradley represents the failures of institutional authority in a time of crisis.

Father Slattery

The parish priest, Slattery, is a figure of both spiritual and social power. He uses fear, shame, and sectarian rhetoric to control his flock, and is particularly cruel to those who do not fit the mold. His interactions with Cushla and the McGeown children are marked by a chilling lack of empathy. Slattery embodies the dark side of religious authority in a divided society.

Gerry Devlin

Gerry is a fellow teacher and friend to Cushla, offering both comic relief and genuine support. He is kind, open-minded, and unafraid to challenge authority, but is also marked by his own losses and limitations. Gerry's friendship with Cushla is a source of comfort, and his presence at the novel's end suggests the possibility of healing and connection beyond the confines of sectarianism.

Plot Devices

Duality and Division

The novel's structure and imagery are dominated by dualities: Catholic/Protestant, male/female, public/private, love/hate, victim/perpetrator. These divisions are mirrored in the settings (bar, school, home), the characters' relationships, and the narrative's oscillation between moments of intimacy and violence. The constant crossing and policing of boundaries—literal and metaphorical—drives the plot and shapes the characters' fates.

Foreshadowing and Irony

The narrative is laced with foreshadowing: news reports, casual remarks, and minor incidents all hint at the disasters to come. The irony is often bitter: acts of kindness lead to catastrophe, love becomes a source of danger, and attempts at reconciliation end in betrayal. The reader is made complicit in the knowledge that tragedy is inevitable, heightening the sense of loss and futility.

Symbolism

Everyday objects—ashes, gorse flowers, whiskey glasses, schoolbooks, medals—are invested with symbolic weight, serving as reminders of love, loss, and the persistence of memory. The recurring motif of language (Irish, English, silence) underscores the power and limits of communication. The final sculpture of Michael is both a memorial and a hollow shell, embodying the emptiness left by violence.

Nonlinear Structure

The novel is framed by a coda set decades after the main events, as Cushla and Davy reunite in a gallery. This structure allows for reflection and re-evaluation, highlighting the long-term consequences of trauma and the persistence of memory. The narrative's movement between past and present underscores the impossibility of closure, but also the necessity of remembrance.

Analysis

Trespasses is a novel that refuses easy answers or sentimental resolutions. Through Cushla's eyes, Louise Kennedy explores the ways in which ordinary lives are shaped—and often destroyed—by the forces of history, politics, and prejudice. The novel's power lies in its unflinching depiction of the costs of compassion and the dangers of crossing boundaries, whether of class, religion, or desire. Kennedy's characters are vividly drawn, their flaws and virtues rendered with empathy and precision. The narrative's attention to the textures of daily life—the rituals of the bar, the rhythms of the classroom, the small acts of kindness and cruelty—grounds the story in a reality that is both specific and universal. Trespasses is ultimately a meditation on the persistence of love and the possibility of connection in a world determined to keep people apart. Its lessons are as relevant today as they were in the time it depicts: that the lines we draw between ourselves and others are both arbitrary and deadly, and that the only hope for healing lies in the courage to reach across them, even at great personal cost.

Last updated: June 2, 2025