Elsewhere in the book, he describes “a vast graveyard. The rancid, offal reek of the dead rose from pits, ditches, houses, the banks of streams and rivers; a smell that settled in the mind as much as it lingered on our clothes and turned our stomachs.” Why would anyone want to be a war correspondent? And yet without them, how do we learn the truth of what’s going on in the world? The reason I’ve not given this book a star rating is because it deserves to be read regardless of how many stars it has been “awarded”. It is brutal and forthright in its honesty, and incredibly raw. When you read something like this, truly, only the stars in the sky are the ones that matter. A brutally honest exploration of what motivates Keane to keep reporting on atrocities despite the toll on his mental health… Gentle but unflinching” - Guardian, Book of the Day Some years ago he promised not to go to any “hot wars”, by which he meant he wouldn’t go near the frontline. Even this, he thinks, suggests some denial about the trauma of covering war at all. “It’s a f**king rationalisation. I admit it. I’ll never get better from this thing if I don’t admit it.”

The Madness by Fergal Keane and Breaking: Trauma in the The Madness by Fergal Keane and Breaking: Trauma in the

This set him on the path of choosing journalism, and then reporting from front lines to prove his worth. Especially to himself. In the prologue of his book, he writes of a conversation in which he says: “I should have stopped after Belfast.” He knows, of course, that he was not going to stop then. Those of us who knew him then knew he was not going to stop. His words are a personal description of the physical and psychological wounds that come with Belfast’s reporting beat. Not devastation in a foreign field but on our own doorstep, with people dying and suffering all around us.” In this programme, we’ll be hearing about the extraordinary life of BBC war correspondent, Fergal Keane. His reporting helped his television audiences make sense of the horrors of war, but underneath there were more personal reasons attracting him to the frontline. Was he 'addicted' to war? Listen to his story and learn new vocabulary along the way. This week's questionIf you’re a drug addict or an alcoholic killing yourself people will say, ‘Oh, my God, stop.’ War is the only addiction that people will come up to you and say, ‘That was brilliant’ — Fergal Keane There is still no agreement on a legacy process to answer the questions of Northern Ireland’s past. But, eventually, when some story-telling archive is established, these contributions will add to understanding. That is the worth of this book. Its value. Why it is important. Another book that left me with this level of discomfort and unease was Francisco Cantú’s The Line Becomes A River. Another book filled with immense intensity. To me, it’s unfathomable what people are capable of. And continue to be capable of.

The Madness By Fergal Keane | Used | 9780008420420 | World of The Madness By Fergal Keane | Used | 9780008420420 | World of

I could never do this book justice in a review to equal those excellently and in-depth written by Canadian Reader and Nat K. As migration, integration and assimilation dominate public debate in Britain, Fergal examines the impact of the longest and biggest immigrant story in the history of the United Kingdom. He looks haunted. His eyes fill with tears and he has difficulty talking for a moment. “You feel like a bit of a freak,” he says quietly.

Sometimes the presence of a journalist as witness may reduce brutality, even perhaps save lives, if aggressors fear someone recording their misdeeds. But it can also make things worse, retraumatising survivors, or spurring punishment for speaking out, as Keane fears may have happened when he reported from a refugee camp during the genocide in Darfur, Sudan. “I didn’t know one way or another. But that question unsettles me. If you are a journalist, if you cannot make things better, you should at least not make things worse,” he writes of that night, when there was a vicious, possibly punitive, raid. You know, the truth is, I was an alcoholic long before I got to Rwanda. But I was in the kind of functioning alcoholic - what they call, you know, managing it stage of the of the disease. Keane has not just the courage to risk death so that the most important stories can be told, as well as the eye to tell them with vivid subtlety, but also the humility to reveal the havoc that this task visits on the beholder” - Spectator This is a book that can be read without following its chapter chronology. One of the writers is Barbara McCann, a broadcast journalist with a career that stretches beyond 40 years. She knows the story of this place and other places, and she shares something I have not read before.

BBC Radio 4 FM - Schedules, 3 - 9 July 2023 BBC Radio 4 FM - Schedules, 3 - 9 July 2023

He seems most upset when trying to explain his symptoms and what triggers them. “You know what? I think at some level I feel ashamed of it,” he says. “I’m still dealing with that. It’s so weird to lose control emotionally. It feels shameful. I can’t give you a rational explanation for it.” The Madness, an informative and often wrenching memoir, confirms Hedges’ remarks and then some. Keane opens up about his experiences in many conflict zones, including South Africa, Rwanda, Kosovo, the DRC, Sudan, and Ukraine. Some of these stories concern the tragic loss of colleagues. His main focus in the book, however, is his own mental health: his alcoholism, breakdowns, and diagnosis of PTSD.I can visualise him writing it. Hear him reading it. Agonising. Trying to let it go. But, go to where? Fergal Keane is blessed with a magical pen, under which flowers can blossom, as the Chinese would say. I think he is one of the few journalists who write like a poet. In fact, I think Keane does write poetry. The limpid prose and his unflinching honesty made this book, dealing with difficult subjects of trauma and addiction, so compelling. Instead, Fergal turned to booze– an informal name for alcohol. Fergal had been addicted to alcohol before he arrived in Rwanda, but now he had another addiction to cope with – the need to keep returning to war. Fergal knew it wasn’t healthy, but he couldn’t stop. In his research, he is gathering the information for his next questions, about how trauma is shared, or how it spreads and travels. Where did it begin for him? He is excavating deep roots. In this series Fergal Keane explores the profound influence the Irish have had on Britain over many centuries, from the vanished tribes of the ancient Celtic world to the Ryanair generation of today.