Admittedly, I am not a football fan, which may seem sacreligious as a Manchester resident. Attending David Peace’s talk at HOME, discussing his newest book Munichs, is the closest I have ever come to understanding the love that people have for the sport.
Peace, Yorkshire-born and raised, came to HOME to discuss Munichs, his fictional dramatisation of the 1958 Munich plane crash that killed twenty-three people. Amongst them were eight members of the Manchester United team, in addition to journalists, trainers and Old Trafford staff members. The team, managed by Matt Busby, were returning from a European Cup win in Belgrade, Serbia and had stopped in Munich to refuel on the way home to Manchester. Needless to say, it was a horrendous tragedy that shook the whole city to its core.
Right from the outset of his talk, Peace emphasised the way in which he perceives football as the creation of narratives. From the narratives woven during each game, to the narrative of the ‘Busby Babes’, the name given to the young squad, it is a game full of stories. Speaking to the broader relevance of the football novel, he explains that it is key to understanding working-class histories, especially here in Manchester.
“Everyone alive that day would have a tale to tell of death, of who and when and where they were upon that cold, unwanted day, and for some alive that blackest day of all“
Munichs is a book steeped in the wider life of 1950s Manchester, exploring locations we all know well, from Withington’s Mauldeth Road West to our very own Oxford Road. Throughout the novel, he repeatedly illustrates the impact that tragedy had on the wider community; on more than just football fans but all Mancunians. Peace spoke of the meticulous research conducted for the book – reading contemporary newspaper reports to gain a sense of what Manchester was like in the 50s, as well as on the fateful day itself.
Peace himself owes a lot to Manchester, telling tales of his years living in Whalley Range as well as the ways in which Manchester football served as a point of connection between him and his late father. Manchester United and the Busby Babes made a profound impact on his father as a young boy, and Peace made an effort to read portions of his book as they were written to his father over Zoom. It’s a testament to football’s power of connection. Outside of the game, it is a vital way in which communities are drawn together. This is doubly true as tragedy strikes, and Peace ensures we see the web of connections tested and reinforced by the crash.
There are points in the novel in which Peace offers multiple interpretations of the same event, explaining that there isn’t a consensus on any one version of events. He tells us that the book is not entirely true but he hopes we will find it “emotionally true”. It reveals the way he prioritises telling a touching and resonant narrative of the way a city pulls itself out of grief, rather than it being overly factual. In other words, it is a novel more concerned with how we feel tragedy rather than how we represent it.
Munichs’ writing flows effortlessly between different tableaus of grief, as Peace himself described his style as “word jazz.” His writing is evocative of a time that none of us were alive for, and yet it feels as if we know intimately. It owes so much to our city’s past and yet is always looking forward to the ways in which Manchester is shaped by what came before it. Munichs is a fantastic portrayal of collective despair, with hope quietly existing in equal measure. Peace does an amazing job of showing why we should all give football novels a little more time, as illustrations of a shared history which we are all still living through.
