Michelle Dextras suggested this Irish author’s books in response to one of my reviews, and I appreciate such suggestions. Toibin is the author of seven novels, some poetry, and some journalism. In deciding which of his books to start with, I rejected the newest, House of Names, as it was described as akin to science fiction, which I usually do not enjoy. Perhaps I should try to expand my choices, but why would I do that in my dotage?
First, my only negative comment. There are no Acknowledgements in this book. Did no one provide any help with its writing and publication, or was this just an oversight?
This story centres on a youngish Irish widow with four children living in the author’s hometown of Enniscorthy, in Wexford county, south of Dublin, in the late 1960’s and early 1970’s. Much of the story must be based on recollections of his childhood there, including the experiences of a stuttering boy in a boarding school and being fatherless from age ten. This was at the time when ‘The Troubles’ in Northern Ireland were just beginning. The protests and killings in Northern Ireland and the retaliation in the south are described accurately. Some of the characters are Fianna Fáil sympathizers rooting for the violent IRA; others belong to the liberal Fine Gael party; Toibin reveals no bias in his political treatment, although some of his relatives were members of the IRA.
This story does not rely on the plot to hold the reader’s interest, but on the character development and the masterful use of the language. Where a lesser writer would have inserted a dramatic twist such as finding the dead body of the rebellious teenage daughter who has gone missing for three days during Dublin riots, Toibin has her show up unharmed with a plausible simple explanation. There are no sudden surprises, and, refreshingly, no sex or foul language whatsoever, and no gratuitous violence.
Anyone from or having lived in the south of Ireland will love the detailed lyrical description of the landscape and local culture, and classical music aficionados will love the symbolism and metaphors of the efforts of singers and the different emotions and sensations evoked by different works and interpretations. And anyone who grew up in the late sixties or earlier, even if not Irish, will enjoy recalling the primitive means of communication and navigation in an era with limited black- and-white TV, unreliable public phone booths, manually entered business ledgers, and no internet, cell phones, email, texting or GPS.
As the story develops, the mourning, sensitive, insecure widow and some of her relatives seem to be unable to carry on a normal conversation without taking umbrage at what someone said, finding insults where none were intended, and becoming quite paranoid. But the introspection and self-analysis common in novels emphasizing characters rather than plot is not overdone here. Nora only very gradually develops striking assertiveness and finds the inner strength to fight for justice for her family and her own rights. Only at the very end of the book, three years after his death, when she finally removes her husband’s clothing from the wardrobe, and burns his love letters that she has saved, does she finally overcome her grief, and even then we are left with doubts about her future.
An uplifting sensitive story that I quite enjoyed. I may try his Blackwater Lightship sometime soon although I rarely read more than one book by the same author. Thanks, Michelle.
The Passionate Reader 