I'm a complete outsider, and I wouldn't blame the knowledgeable posters here from jumping all over me for raising my head. But I took a graduate class in Irish Literature a number of years ago, and the professor was Irish--or maybe an Irish immigrant--and the course material concentrated on the more famous writers we all know from the Republic of Ireland, but the last week of the course, we read some material written by Catholic writers living in Northern Ireland. It was the most gut-wrenching literature I've ever been exposed to in my life. I'll never forget it.