oldlibrarybook rated this book 3 of 5 Stars.
There are only so many quirky characters to which one town is entitled. The population of Sutri, in central Italy, however, seems to have exceeded that limit. The author, his artist wife, and their baby daughter have opted to make their home in the Etruscan village a bit north of Rome, where the author spends his days observing and recording the unusual ticks of his eccentric new neighbors. Fortunately, the book is small because, while the anecdotes are humorous, they begin to become tiresome as they pile up.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 4 of 5 Stars.
I liked this book. I appreciated the author, William Dean Howells, for blurring the distinction between good characters and bad, between the good guys and the bad guys. It was this aspect of the novel that saved it from becoming a mere melodrama in my eyes. Although there were no dastardly parents threatening to disown the young man who chose a woman they saw as beneath his station, I was reminded of many a Jane Austen novel in which the disapproval ultimately acceded to the demands of good manners. Although separated by 100 years and a wide ocean, both novelists understood the social strictures that governed membership in "society," and both were able to provide the reader with an accurate--and entertaining--snapshot of its pitfalls and pettiness. As I eagerly read through this book, I felt at home with the Laphams, an admiration for the way they handled their moral dilemmas, and a softening of my distaste for the likes of the snobbish Coreys.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 3 of 5 Stars.
I found Sara Monday (or whatever the heck her name is) to be a most delightful narrator. Her always-positive outlook on life, which leads her astray on many occasions, may not be worthy of emulation, but it certainly is a lot more pleasant to read about than the whinings and complainings of some old Mrs. Grumpypants. Granted, Sara IS telling her life's story from the vantage point of a recently imposed prison sentence. But the tale she tells is nothing if not a joyous life's adventure, taking her from rags to riches to rags again, from domestic service to mistress with servants and back once more to the kitchen stove, from church door to prison door, all with cheerful acceptance. This novel is the first in a trilogy by Cary, each of which sheds light on the same story, each from a different vantage point.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 4 of 5 Stars.
Christian Wiman is first and foremost a poet and, second, a man grappling with his own mortality in the form of a virulent type of cancer. As a fellow human being, I had no difficulty in understand Wiman's writing relating to his illness and its treatment and sharing the feelings they unleashed. It is the first of those characteristics, Wiman's poetic nature, that gave me the most difficulty and challenged me in following the trajectory of his spiritual quest. Wiman quotes Auden who described poetry as "the clear expression of mixed feelings." If that is so, then it is true that Wiman is a poet through and through because his spiritual ruminations are loaded with paradoxes. Yet, puzzled as I may have been when I pondered those especially paradoxical paragraphs, I respected and admired the work that Wiman put into searching for a faith for the 21st century. I am grateful that along with his fears and doubts, he shared his very personal insights, many of which were the result of his extensive study of luminaries in the fields of literature, art, philosophy, and religion. While this book provided no easy answers to my questions about faith and meaning, I feel my life has been enriched by having read and digested–at least partially–Wiman's beautiful meditation.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 3 of 5 Stars.
How does one begin to give a star value to a book chronicling in vivid fashion one of the most horrific tragedies in human history? What I can say is that it certainly was detailed and written in clear language, but it was not pleasant reading, the author being unsparing of any of the nasty details that accompany starvation and pestilence. The "comic relief" came in the form of ironic anecdotes that were in reality devoid of humor. But anyone who picked up this book to read was looking for explanations not Irish wit. Kelly has done a fine job of explaining how the failure of one crop–the potato–was the catalyst for igniting a firestorm of devastation to the native people of Ireland. The system of land distribution, the religious and social bigotry of the times, and the greed of the empire-builders and merchants who stood to make a profit from the misery of the Irish peasantry, all exacerbated the devastation caused by a natural phenomenon, Pyhtophthora infestans, commonly known as potato blight. Although there were points in the reading of this book that I thought my heart could take no more, I am grateful that Kelly took the story further–to the mean streets of the New World. The fate of the Irish in America and Canada was little better than the poverty, disease, and ill-treatment that they had fled, but I, and millions of readers like me, know firsthand the difference a few generations can make. My daughter gave this book to me as a birthday gift with the promise of a visit to the Famine Museum on the campus of Quinnipiac University in Connecticut, which I had been eager to see. Let me just say that after plowing through this book, I am no longer so eager to hightail it to Connecticut. Maybe after the grief subsides.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 4 of 5 Stars.
The photos in this lovely work are a far cry from the selfie photos that proliferate in today's social media. For one thing, the subjects display none of the self-conscious posing that the selfie subjects feel obligated to strike. Lange's subjects are utterly themselves, right down to the dirt under their fingernails and the wind-blown hair. With few exceptions, they do not look straight into the lens, for the photographer has captured them as they go about their daily lives. It is remarkable how the one photo taken by Lange's son and travel companion, Daniel Dixon, and included in the volume stands apart from the Lange photos both in composition and in the way it fails to capture the spirit of its subject. What Dixon did do right, however, was to convey in his essay his mother's goals and methods throughout the six weeks they spent together getting to know Ireland and its people. In apposition to the title of the book, Dixon entitled his essay, "Ireland's Dorothea Lange" because he understood that it was her objective to be "the servant rather than the source of her material," and to "let her subjects speak for themselves." The language they spoke through the medium of her camera is sweet to hear and precious to remember
by Dorothea; Mullins, Gerry; Oakland Museum Of California Lange
oldlibrarybook rated this book 5 of 5 Stars.
The photos in this lovely work are a far cry from the selfie photos that proliferate in today's social media. For one thing, the subjects display none of the self-conscious posing that the selfie subjects feel obligated to strike. Lange's subjects are utterly themselves, right down to the dirt under their fingernails and the wind-blown hair. With few exceptions, they do not look straight into the lens, for the photographer has captured them as they go about their daily lives. It is remarkable how the one photo taken by Lange's son and travel companion, Daniel Dixon, and included in the volume stands apart from the Lange photos both in composition and in the way it fails to capture the spirit of its subject. What Dixon did do right, however, was to convey in his essay his mother's goals and methods throughout the six weeks they spent together getting to know Ireland and its people. In apposition to the title of the book, Dixon entitled his essay, "Ireland's Dorothea Lange" because he understood that it was her objective to be "the servant rather than the source of her material," and to "let her subjects speak for themselves." The language they spoke through the medium of her camera is sweet to hear and precious to remember.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 5 of 5 Stars.
This was such a beautiful book: beautifully written, beautifully illustrated with photos by Paul Joyce, and beautifully bound. To visit a city in the company of one who knows and loves it is always exciting and illuminating. But if that guide is also one of the most skillful writers in modern history, that visit becomes unforgettable. John Banville--or Benjamin Black, as he's known to fans of his mysteries--gives the reader not only the pleasure of his company but also that of some of Dublin's best known habitues past and present. For example, we lunch with Banville's friend Cicero and the Nobel poet Seamus Heaney, recovering from a stroke but "funny and entertaining as ever," and find Heaney "...touched with a tender melancholy, a kind of shadowed sweetness." Through much of the book, Cicero guides Banville to famous and infamous landmarks of the city's checkered history, and Banville connects them for the reader with his own personal and literary memories. "Time Pieces" is a portrait not only of Dublin--which Banville has treasured since his annual birthday excursions there in his childhood--but also a glimpse into the soul of the brilliant writer whose perambulations around the city reveal a "tender melancholy" of his own.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 4 of 5 Stars.
There must have been a seanachie in William Trevor's background, so skillful is he in telling an enthralling story. Or, more likely, a weaver because Trevor does not just tell a story, he weaves one. In his skillful hands the disparate threads of the narrative are shuttled skillfully in and out until finally they come together to form a complex picture, in this case of a family living just off the coast of south Cork in a disintegrating Big House. The thread that runs all through the story and binds it together is the bridge that is to be built to connect island with mainland. This thread is picked up by Sarah Pollexfen, a poor relation to the Rollestons, who comes to Carriglas to act as governess to the three orphaned children whose grandmother is the doyen of the estate. In a sense, Sarah is the seanachie of this story because it is she whose intermittent diary entries knit together the tragic tale of the three Rolleston children with that of Tom, the fatherless child of their maid Brigid, against the background of the promised bridge.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 3 of 5 Stars.
Was there ever such an England as the England found in Angela Thirkell's novels or characters like the ones that inhabit it? "Growing Up" takes place during World War II, but the denizens of Thirkell's Barsetshire are nearly unfazed by the cataclysmic events taking place in the world. They have a cozy little universe of their own where everyone--at least tangentially--knows everyone else, where everyone knows his or her place and is content to inhabit it, where comedy infects every corner and even an arm lost in battle can be a source of humor. Even Thirkell herself seems to be a source of humor as portrayed in the character Mrs. Morland, writer of potboilers, who in a lecture on how to write a novel to recuperating wounded soldiers says, "...and I'm perfectly sure none of you have read any of my books and I really don't see why you should." Many of the soldiers had, indeed, read her books, just as readers of every sort have become fans of Angela Thirkell. For them, there are novels galore, 17 in the Barsetshire series alone. For me, one was enough.
by Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell
oldlibrarybook rated this book 3 of 5 Stars.
This book should have been entitled, "Saint Ruth." After her youthful dalliance with a handsome, rich Mr. Bellingham, who seduced her when she was at a desperate low ebb in her life, Ruth's behavior was absolutely flawless. When Bellingham deserts a pregnant Ruth, she is saved by Mr. Benson, a minister of the Dissenter persuasion, and his sister. This is a lovely, old-fashioned story--familiar, yet unique--exploring the nature of sin and redemption and providing great insights into the role of women in early 19th century England.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 4 of 5 Stars.
The two halves of this book present the reader first with an experience from Wiesenthal's life while a prisoner in a concentration camp and another experience with the mother of the SS officer who, upon his deathbed, had asked for forgiveness from Wiesenthal in the name of the Jewish family he murdered. The author, who later in his life became the renowned "Nazi hunter," goes on to ask, "Did I do the right thing in leaving without offering a word of forgiveness? And should I have told the mother the true story of her son, the SS officer?" The second part of the book consists of essays on those questions by authorities from various walks of life, some of whom have experienced genocide in their own countries. Of these essays, it is Cynthia Ozick's vituperative view and Andre Stein's dissenting opinion on the interaction with the mother that most caught my attention. But despite all the cogent arguments presented, the opinion I held immediately after reading the first part of the book is the same as the one I experience as I closed the pages after the last essay.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 5 of 5 Stars.
Although my connection with what is now NUI Galway is strictly tangential (a diploma in Irish Studies hanging on my wall and a hurried one-day visit), this romp through the university's early history made me feel right at home. It was obvious that a caring and thoughtful historian was asking the questions. The voices of the respondents came through with clarity, authenticity, and--quite often--humor. My own favorites were the oldest respondents, who reflected the lifestyle and mores of simpler times. At some points in my reading, I felt that I could actually hear the voice of the interviewee, Irish brogue and all. What a delightful video this would make! While it is too late to capture the sound of biology professor Máirin De Valera, daughter of Ireland's first president, or Ma Creaven, who ran the college's first coffee shop, it would be a delight to listen to some of the other charming characters. The image of the early years of the college with the porter's family living in The Archway and playing games with the President's children and the proximity of the River Corrib, with its salmon fishing and boating, depict an educational paradise, a little bit of Irish heaven.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 3 of 5 Stars.
On the back of my copy of this book, a blurb from The New York Review of Books describes it as being "impeccably written," and they are probably not far from wrong. As I read this novel, I found myself admiring but not enjoying it. The "love" of the title should more properly be described as obsession and cannot endure without destroying both parties. The narrator Joe Rose, a science fiction writer, crosses paths with a stranger named Jed Parry when they both are witnesses to a horrific scene, an out-of-control hot-air balloon with a boy trapped in its basket. When another witness tries to save the boy, he is killed. Parry is suddenly smitten with an obsession for Rose, about which Rose is unable to convince his wife Clarissa, the police, or anyone else in his life. Madness seems to be contagious, as Rose struggles to maintain his rationality in the face of an unnatural love that portends disaster.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 3 of 5 Stars.
Hard to believe that the most valued commodity in the area surrounding Leixleap on the River Shannon is the eel that swims in its waters. Hard to believe, too, that the job of Eel Policeman is so dangerous that two of Leixleap's finest are found dead in a local hotel. This is more than local law enforcement is able to handle, so a frantic phone call is made to Dublin's Chief Inspector Peter McGarr for assistance. The instigator of that call is an old school mate of McGarr, one whose bullying ways made him widely disliked. Although the murdered couple were shot "in flagrante delicto," McGarr's investigation uncovers clues that lead in a different direction. The IRA? eel poachers? a betrayed spouse? possibly even disgruntled environmentalists? McGarr will sort it all out, of that the reader has no doubt.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 2 of 5 Stars.
I did not enjoy reading this book of short stories. It took entirely too much effort and proved not worth the work. I felt that the author was self-indulgent and had disdain for the reader, as she forthrightly says in the last story: "I might describe them--I have the words for it--but your prurience does not interest me; neither does your disbelief." With more than 30 stories in this little volume it disappointed me that none of the women featured touched a responsive note in me. After reading and enjoyed Enright's "The Green Road," I found myself greatly disappointed by this volume.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 3 of 5 Stars.
I had looked forward to reading this book with such eagerness because I had been captivated by McKeon's first novel, Solace. Disappointingly, I did not find the same lyrical beauty in this, her second novel as I did in the first. The tenderness of the title teeters on the brink of obsession and finally falls into that abyss. Catherine meets James when she heads to university at Dublin's Trinity College. The friendship that develops between them is complicated by James's struggle to find his place as a homosexual male within the circle of friendships they have created in Dublin. Sexuality aside, Catherine and James forge deep bonds of friendship, a sort of anam cara relationship. Catherine's love for James brings her pain as she struggles to maintain her role as the friend of his heart without giving in to her longing to be more.
by Dermot Bolger; Maeve Binchy; Clare Boylan; Emma Donoghue; Anne Haverty; Kate O'Riordan; Deirdre Purcell
oldlibrarybook rated this book 3 of 5 Stars.
What is going on behind the doors of a newly-renovated Euro-style hotel in the heart of Dublin? Leave it up to seven of Ireland's most talented female writers to unlock the secrets. From Room 101 to the Penthouse, the inmates are all very human--except for one very large cat--but with dreams, memories, and desires that are maybe just a tad more unusual than that of their fellow travelers. Working your way down the hall and through the chapters, you will encounter a kindhearted man who wants to help his wife's friend become pregnant, a nun who feels she has an unusual mission from God, and a has-been actress ensconced in the Penthouse. Meet you downstairs for a toast and a song at Fiona's Bar!
oldlibrarybook rated this book 5 of 5 Stars.
Why is it harder to find the words to extol a novel of such rare beauty and craftsmanship than it is to pan one that is a complete dud? Is it because the reader is so wrapped up in the warm feelings engendered by the book and he or she fears that they will vanish if the novel is examined too closely. That's how this book affected me. The story is of a simple Irish woman from young bride to old woman of eighty years and the longing that consumed her throughout her lonely final years. Besides Minnie, the protagonist, stands her devoted husband Peter, who perhaps carries a disturbing secret to his grave. Their children are equally well-drawn: Brendan, the oldest, the New York bishop--and an alcoholic; Sheila, who married well--but not happily; and Francis--Francis, the youngest, and the source of Minnie's longing. Perhaps it would be better not to tell you about the author. Read the book for its own merits, and then look into the creative genius who spun the tale, perhaps by reading his memoir, "Under the Eye of the Clock."
oldlibrarybook rated this book 4 of 5 Stars.
A small tale beautifully told, this is just the kind of book that captures my heart and holds it long enough to make me feel one with its characters. It is a tale of love, adventure, and contentment told to a Connemara priest at the bedside of one of his parishioners. It is a fish story but one without exaggeration, one filled with longing and hope. It is a 24-pound salmon in the trunk of Father's car and the joy of sharing the moment with a kindred spirit.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 3 of 5 Stars.
While there were points at which this novel stretched credibility, it certainly did have all the requisite components of a good Gothic mystery: a young, innocent leading character--Harriet, or Hal as she prefers to be called--and a cast of shadowy figures, including a few who were downright malevolent. The latter includes a loan-shark's henchman, who preys upon orphaned teenager Hal, and Mrs. Warren, the housekeeper at the appropriately gloomy house of which Hal is the surprised inheritor. Hal's newly discovered family members provide enough suspense to keep the reader guessing. A willing suspension of rational thinking was occasional required of the reader, for instance, on Hal's second return to the house why didn't she choose one of the empty rooms vacated by her departed relatives rather than return to the attic room where a suspected attempt had been made on her life. A bit sophomoric, but good fun nonetheless.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 3 of 5 Stars.
Solving a crime with Sr. Fidelma, who is not only a "religieuse" but also a dalaigh, a high ranking Irish judge, is like taking a brief time-travel vacation to 7th century Ireland or--in the case of this novel--England. Sr. Fidelma and her sidekick/paramour Brother Eadulf were familiar figures from other novels I had read. This, however, is the first of Peter Tremayne's series, so it was especially delightful to finally learn how Fidelma and Eadulf had become acquainted. At a conference called by the King of Northumbria to decide whether his kingdom would follow the Roman or the Celtic rules of Christianity, Fidelma and Eadulf are thrown together and asked to unravel the circumstances behind the death of the Abbess Etain, Sr. Fidelma's friend, who was to present the Celtic side of the argument. The author of this entertaining novel, Peter Tremayne, pseudonym for Peter Berresford Ellis, a respected authority on Celtic culture, provides the benefit of his vast knowledge of ancient societies within the context of an easy-to-read, captivating mystery.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 4 of 5 Stars.
John Dominic Crossan has made the historic Jesus the subject of his lifelong study. Some of his critics have accused him of examining the life of Jesus under the light of Crossan's own life experiences. In this book, Crossan does the reverse: he examines his life under the light of his findings about the historical Jesus. This book was a four-star pleasure for me for its first three-quarters. Unlike the books of his fellow Irishman Frank McCourt, this was no misery tale. Though Crossan left Ireland and left the priesthood as well, his looking back was not filled with bitterness. I liked the fact that he did not deny his own past and would have done it over again if given the same choices. But in the last quarter of the book his outlook seemed to dim a bit. He took umbrage at critics and belittled the words of journalists. The results of his study of the history of Jesus life are challenging for the average Christian, and he has little patience for their difficulties in assimilating them. His emphasis on God's justice rather than God's love made me uncomfortable. But then, wasn't that what Christ urged of us: lose your complacency, become uncomfortable, pick up your cross and follow. All in all, I'm glad I read this book.
by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
oldlibrarybook rated this book 2 of 5 Stars.
My friends from Nigeria have regaled me with interesting tales of their lives growing up in that country. Those anecdotes and the fact that this was one of President Obama's favorite novels predisposed me to be a fan. I was, however, sadly disappointed. The early years of the two main characters, Ifemelu and Obinze, provided a well-rounded portrait of the life-styles of many people in Nigeria after the Biafran War. But once the young people began their diaspora, mainly to the U.S. and Britain, their stories turned into fairy tales. From cleaning toilets to being driven in BMW's, from trying to find her place in a U.S. university to hobnobbing with the literati and the glitterati, the characters became unsympathetic, amoral, and without appeal. The "grand romance" theme has always been a turn-off for me, drenched as it must be in cliches and unreality. So, the love affair that propels the two characters toward the grand finale turned this novel into a ho-hum in my estimation.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 4 of 5 Stars.
Water, water everywhere.... This book is written in language that flows like the Shannon in a first person narrative by a young woman with all the love and eccentricities of the two families that produced her. In the course of unfolding her story, Ruth Swain produces a book of her own, a hymn of praise to her family, to poetry, to storytelling as catharsis, to Ireland, and to the river that flows through her heart.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 3 of 5 Stars.
How many stars does one humble reader give to a book of poetry written by a poet who was awarded a Nobel Prize for Literature? Who am I to judge such a shining light? Of course, Heaney's poetry is marvelous. It's just a bit too earthy and masculine to touch me in the same way as that of, say, another Irish poet, Eavan Boland. A cursory reading isn't quite enough to judge the merits of the poetry, but nor was it enough to whet my appetite for more any time soon.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 3 of 5 Stars.
I think that my problem with this book was of my own making. My approach to the book was one of awe, having recently read "The Absolutist" by Boyne and come away with a sense of deep respect for his immense power to move the reader. As I dived expectantly into this book, I soon began thinking, "Well, that's a gross exaggeration" and "That could never have happened, even in 1950s Ireland." It wasn't until page 93 when the protagonist, Cyril Avery (adopted, "not a real Avery"), describes his adoptive father's demeanor as calm in the face of "the farcical events of the evening" that I had my eureka moment. No wonder the characters seemed like they had sprung from the pens of the writers of "Saturday Night Live." From that point forward, I could relax and enjoy the "farcical" unfolding of a story dealing with very serious themes--bigotry, religious intolerance, the devastation caused by the AIDS epidemic, the hideous treatment of homosexuals and women in the late 20th century, to name just a few.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 4 of 5 Stars.
Not all mysteries are created equal. I found this one to be a few steps above the run-of-the-mill pap, like the Agatha Raisin I had just finished reading. The author, a former editor for The Irish Times newspaper, knows his turf--and his history. The story is set in 1887 Dublin in the midst of a heat wave. (Yes, Ireland has them occasionally.) Without losing track of the narrative, the author is able to depict the climate of a country emerging from years of famine and heading toward revolution. Brady writes a scene so graphically that the reader almost feels the heat of the Dublin streets before the era of air conditioning. This is Detective Inspector Swallow's first foray into the world of print, but if the loose threads at the end of this story are any indication, he will provide material for more captivating reads ahead.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 4 of 5 Stars.
What a smile-producing read! Even with all their foibles and ticks, the people of Santo Fico were a joy to get to know. It was such a pleasant interlude to turn to a little novel in which the characters were intrinsically good (or if not good, dead), and the reader could enjoy every turn and twist of the plot knowing full well that all would end well. While the story was light-hearted, the language was well chosen and precise. Describing the gathered crowd in the church in one of the last scenes, the author tell us: "For those in the cathedral that night, it was like being one word in a great poem that had no end or a single note of music in an extraordinary chorale that rolled on forever." If you decide to read this book, I recommend that you save it for your next bout of the blues. Its charm is guaranteed to change your outlook.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 3 of 5 Stars.
When I was a young woman in my 30's, I discovered Mary Lavin's short stories, and it was love at first read. This book, Lavin's first full-length novel, left me a bit cold. The young protagonist, Gabriel, is raised by his two aunts and their youngest sister--Gabriel's mother--in relative affluence in a small Irish village. Aunt Theresa is angry and inflexible and rules the house with an iron hand. Gabriel is acquiescent until he falls for the young housemaid Onny. Lavin allows Gabriel to go on for many pages ruminating on ethics, in a style typical of a 1945 novel, one that is, however, somewhat out of sync with the sensibilities of the 21st century reader. I find Lavin much more effective when employing the pithiness of narrative that a short story demands than in the expansiveness of a sprawling novel.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 4 of 5 Stars.
It may be a peculiar taste for this day and age, but I love a good, long Trollope novel. To romp in the cathedral town of Barchester is to enter a world in partnership with the man who created it, as Trollope pauses every so often to describe why the story is proceeding in such or such a direction and to expound on the difficulties of novel-writing. This novel is a continuation of his first Barchester story, "The Warden," and good Dr. Hardy, though no longer the main character, still offers his quiet wisdom to ensure that all ends well. His darling daughter, the widow Eleanor Bold, is the juicy plum sought after by three of the story's male leads: the evil Mr. Slope, the rather amoral Bertie Stanhope, and, of course, the hero, Mr. Arabin. The other villain in the story, the bishop's wife, is the best argument for Roman Catholic priestly celibacy that I've ever encountered. The reader becomes so immersed in this Victorian ecclesiastical milieu that he or she can even overlook sentiments like "He had that nice appreciation of the feelings of others which belongs of right exclusively to women." As one begins to talk to oneself in the speech patterns of the upper-class Victorian English, it is time for the 563 pages of the novel to come to an end. It is nice to know, however, that there is a vast supply of Trollope novels to turn to whenever a respite from the stress of living in the 21st century is required.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 4 of 5 Stars.
I had read a short story based on this novel in The New Yorker a year or so ago, and Sr. St. Saviour won my heart. Walking home after a long day begging for funds for her order of nursing sisters, feet aching and longing to empty her bursting bladder, the 60-something-year-old nun enters unbidden a smoky building where a young man has just committed suicide by turning on the gas. Sister determines to lead the way forward for his surviving wife, Annie, and young daughter, Sally. Sally becomes the convent pet after her mother takes a job working with Sr. Illuminata in the laundry in the basement of a convent set in the heart of mid-century Brooklyn. It is Sally's story, and that of her mother's friend, little Sr. Jeanne, that takes center stage in this beautiful little novel, a tale of the paradoxes and sacrifices that love of God and of other frail human beings entail.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 3 of 5 Stars.
My second Molly Keane novel this year, and, thank goodness, an improvement over the first, "Devoted Ladies." It pleases me to know that Ms. Keane grew a little kinder as she grew older. ("Devoted Ladies" was written in 1934; this book in 1983.) Still, she, like her earlier compatriots, Somerville and Ross (Edith Somerville and Violet Florence Martin), presents a composite picture of the twentieth-century Anglo-Irish that is distinctly unflattering, honest though it may be. There is a cruelness to the way the aged members of the Swift family--April, May, June, and brother Jasper--hone in on each other's sore spots and rub them mercilessly. But cruelest of all is their cousin Leda, whose mother married (horrors!) "a Jew." Banished from the house years earlier as a teenager, she turns up again as an old woman, blindly (literally and figuratively) bent on revenge. Spoiler alert: Not least among the kindlier aspects of this Keane novel is its happy-turn-of-events ending.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 4 of 5 Stars.
As with any historical fiction, it was the reader's task to differentiate fact from fiction, so I spent many days catching up on people and events I should have learned about in high school. The "real" people included Stephen Foster, General Wool, and Mayor Fernando Wood. But the character I found most intriguing and worthy of further study is John Hughes, first archbishop of New York and the force behind St. Patrick's Cathedral and Fordham University. Though Irish himself, Quinn did not spare the Irish when it came to describing the vileness of their actions before and during the Draft Riots. But like Archbishop Hughes, the author understands the sources that lead to the degradation of the Irish of the diaspora. In the course of retelling the story in a fictional setting, Quinn demonstrates his understanding of how the fight for a foothold on the bottom rung of the ladder led to an animosity toward black Americans that is still in evidence today amongst many Irish-Americans conservatives with names like Bannon, O'Reilly, and Hannity.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 2 of 5 Stars.
It would have been more fitting if this book had been titled "Despicable Ladies" because Jessica and Jane, along with every other character in the novel, were the most unpleasant I've met in a long time. Even the twin little boys were snot-noses, and the dogs were nasty, too. The touted "humor" in the novel came from scenes like the one where 30-something Piggy (yes, she even referred to herself as The Piggy) gets pummeled on the behind by the boys as she peers into a badger hole. Set in the '30s, the novel has the feel of the Roarin' '20's with drinking and sport occupying every waking moment. I asked for a Molly Keane novel for Christmas, and my daughter gave me two. I feel obligated to at least give the second one a chance to redeem the author's reputation in my eyes, but I am certainly not looking forward to reading it.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 4 of 5 Stars.
The title refers to one who is not just a conscientious objector, but rather one who "...won't do anything at all to further the war effort. Won't fight, won't help those who are fighting, won't work in a hospital or come to the aid of the wounded," according to a sergeant in this novel with World War I as the background. The book's narrator is Tristan Sadler, and the absolutist is his friend/lover Will Bancroft. Will has died in shame as the novel opens, and Tristan seems to be suffering from what would now be designated PTSD. But it is not the horrors that he has witnessed that causes Tristan's trigger finger to quiver uncontrollably. Heroism and honor and their opposites, shame and betrayal, are explored in many varieties in this novel.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 5 of 5 Stars.
Catherine McKenna struggles to pursue her talent of musical composition, a male-dominated field. After graduation from college, she finds herself on a remote Scottish island, immersed in relationship with a difficult man and the mother of a small child. Eventually, however, with the help of a long-time female friend, she escapes the depression that had overwhelmed her, takes her young daughter and leaves, and composes a masterpiece that inculcates the sounds of the Lambeg drums she heard as young woman in Northern Ireland. At the end of this book, I longed to hear the concerto that she had written. The book moved me to write to the author on his website, and he was nice enough to write back.
Feng Danlin writes for a news agency that publishes online news to the Chinese diaspora world-wide. He is given the assignment to critique his ex-wife's recent novel and expose the fraudulent praise she and her yet-to-be published book are receiving. Danlin's feelings about his ex-wife are tinged with bitterness because of the cold and heartless way she announced her intentions to divorce him the day he arrived in America. A fearless seeker of truth in reporting, Danlin accepts the assignment and gives full vent to his belief that his ex-wife, Yan Haili, has little talent or interest in writing great literature and is interested only in the fame and money success will bring. But Danlin can scarcely imagine the repercussions of his essays. With the backing of the Chinese government, Haili manages to turn Danlin's life into a nightmare. It is hard for an American reader to grasp the extent to which a battle over the quality of a novel becomes a rallying cry for dissident Chinese readers of the blog. To this reader, it seemed like a tempest in a teapot. And it was difficult for me to come to grips with the premise that the Chinese government would take such an interest in promoting the novel. While the philosophical arguments presented by Ha Jin in the course of his narration were enlightening and thought-provoking, they still did not answer for me the central question as to why so much emphasis was placed on the success of Haili's romantic novel.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 3 of 5 Stars.
Only a writer like Anthony Trollope could make the tragedy of the Great Hunger, Ireland's tragic famine of the 1840s, pale in comparison to the trials and tribulations of the Fitzgeralds of Castle Richmond. Herbert Fitzgerald was destined to inherit the estate in the southwest of Ireland and with it the title of Lord. His family--mother, father, two sisters, and himself--are beloved in that area of the country. Herbert is a steady young man, unlike his dashing but less wealthy cousin Owen Fitzgerald, who lives a few miles away in Hap House. As the story begins, Lord Thomas Fitzgerald, Herbert's father, has withdrawn from society and seems to be failing in health. Could the cause be the two scoundrels who have been seen at Castle Richmond, leaving Lord Fitzgerald in a worsening state with every visit? How wise of Trollope to provide just enough clues to enable the reader to unravel the mystery affecting the lives of the Castle Richmond denizens for him- or herself! In the midst of unwinding the plot, Trollope often reverts to speaking in his voice as narrator regarding the famine that rages around these major characters and other weighty matters such as the importance of proper dress. Meanwhile, nearby lives the lovely but impoverished Lady Clara Desmond, whose youthful beauty has inflamed the hearts of both Owen and Herbert. I found it refreshing that neither suitor for Clara's hand was painted with a black brush. She might have been happy with either, but it was honor, more than love, that guided her. The story has its flaws, but it is difficult for the reader to resist succumbing to its elegant prose and flowing story line.
Ghost Light, Joseph O'Connor★★★
Theater people are a superstitious lot. This aptly titled novel refers to one of the more common of those superstitions: a light that is left on in a theater to allow its resident ghosts to perform on stage after the theater closes, thus appeasing them and preventing them from wreaking havoc on the production or its audience. Throughout the pages of this novel, the actress Maire (Molly) O'Neill, nee Mary Allgood, like a theater ghost, relives the important moments of her life as she moves toward its tragic end. Molly is a real-life character, one of the most famous actress of the Dublin stage in the early 1900s. Her love affair with playwright John Millington Synge was deemed as scandalous as his play "The Playboy of the Western World" by Irish society, which could not see beyond the differences in their social classes. Their relationship, as portrayed in the novel, was deep, lasting until Synge's untimely death in 1909, not yet 39 years of age. O'Connor weaves in and out of eras, from 1905 Ireland to 1930s Hollywood to 1954 London, where the down-and-out alcoholic actress met her death. All of the major actors in the Irish Literary Revival make at least a brief appearance in the narrative, a bonus for all who love Irish literature and history. O'Connor's prose is filled with wonderfully crafted descriptions of place, time, and emotions. The tale is so well told that it will make little difference whether the reader is a student of Irish literature or just a lover of a captivating tale with an Irish flair.
The British spirit holds an eternal fascination for world-wide audienced. With their unique, damp-climate characteristics they people the novels and short stories of Elizabeth Bowen, an upper-class Anglo-Irish author whose long writing career spanned four decades. In fact, the stories in this collection are divided chronologically, beginning with her early stories from the roaring twenties and thirties through the war and its aftermath. Although Bowen masterfully conveys the haughty elegance and self-absorption of the upper classes, it is with the middle and working class characters that she is at her best. But perhaps that view reflects a personal inability on my part to care about the petty concerns of the elite and an ease with identifying with what motivates the average person living in the twentieth century. Of her early stories, my favorite was “The Shadowy Third” in which a second wife of a quite average man is haunted with the thought that their happiness was arrived at via the unhappiness of the first wife, who may have died of a broken heart. The twenties also saw the story of a recently married woman happily living with her sisters- and mother-in-law. In “Joining Charles,” Mrs. Charles dreads leaving the household to join her husband. Subtily, Bowen reveals the nature of the title character and hints at the subject of abuse. One of Bowen’s strongest suits is her characterization of the inner life of children, as in “The Visitor,” in which a young lad is being entertained by well-meaning family friends while his mother lies at home dying. While the author seems to be able to plumb the depth of her child characters’ thoughts, the adult characters in the stories are significantly at a loss to do the same. If, as Bowen writes in “A Day in the Dark,” the last story of this volume, “Literature, once one knows it, drains away some of the shockingness out of life,” then the detailed portraits of characters in this 79-story volume, persons at once unique and universal, prepare the reader well for meeting much of the “shockingness” of everyday life. Her carefully crafted details of setting as well as of character provide her readers with all the they need to understand the time, place, and people of which she writes.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 3 of 5 Stars.
It is not until page 304 of this 305-page book that the meaning of its title manifests itself. It is here that the author repeats the words of Manush Romanov, a Gypsy leader from Bulgaria, as he says farewell to her with the words, “Bury me standing. I’ve been on my knees all my life.” And it appropriate that the words come as a culmination to this expose because it takes all 300 pages of the book for the reader to reach a deeper understanding of the truth they convey. Fonseca was dauntless in her research, traveling through the countries of post-Communist eastern Europe at the end of the 20th century and enduring life with the Romany families that people her report. My only disappointment as I finished reading this book was that I felt that I still did not have a clear idea of who the Gypsies are and where they originated. But perhaps that is because ethnographers past and present have not come to any concrete understanding of Gypsy roots or ethnicity. What is clear, however, is that there are common bonds of language, taboos, and customs that pervade all the Roma tribes. And although they themselves do not spend much time remembering the past, they share a common history of slavery, oppression, and persecution, right up to modern times with the Nazi porraimos, which translate to “The Devouring.” Settled or nomadic, the Gypsy is the ultimate outsider, resisting assimilation and forever, it seems, inciting the wrath of the assimilated.
It's been a long time since I fell under the spell of Alice McDermott's masterful novel, "Charming Billy," and I had almost forgotten how enchanting a McDermott story can be. Then, recently, I read her short story about Sr. St. Xavier in a current edition of The New Yorker magazine and ran to the bookshop to get my hands on any and all McDermott novels I had missed. Like most of her stories, this book's characters are Irish-American Catholics of the 1950s and '60s. The story's narrator is Theresa, an exceptional teenager (almost unbelievably exceptional, the novel's only flaw as far as I was concerned). Theresa possesses not only exceptional beauty, but also a nature that endears her to everyone she meets. She has a special way with children and animals and spends her summers sitting for the children and pets of the Long Island upper crust. The novel encompasses one brief summer shared with Theresa's younger cousin Daisy. Theresa and Daisy both sense the the fragility of the happiness they share, as they conspire to hide the many bruises popping up on Daisy's tiny body. If there is such a thing as a sweet sadness, then this novel fills the bill to a tee.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 4 of 5 Stars.
A dreadful secret pervades this novel, written in 1864 in a style that blends the Dickensian with a touch of Poe’s Gothic darkness, resulting in a blend that is unique and captivating. The narrator starts his tale with his visit to Brandon Hall where a wedding is to take place uniting two branches of the Brandon/Wylder family. Mark Wylder and Dorcas Brandon are the loveless couple. In this dreary setting, there are are a few bright lights, according to the narrator, in the persons of Rachel Lake, a distant poor relation, Rev. William Wylder, Mark’s brother, and his homely little wife, and Lord Chelford, family patriarch. Things take an ominous turn, however, when Rachel’s only brother, Stanley Lake, appears on the scene. Rachel is certain his return bodes ill as his hatred for Mark smolders in his “yellow” eyes. A few nights later, her foreboding becomes reality as Stanley entangles her in his awful secret. Mark disappears, and in time Dorcas and Stanley wed. Meanwhile, the hypocritical attorney Joshua Larkin uses his position to unscrupulously enrich his coffers. Le Fanu’s prose is touched with supernatural elements that turn out to have grounding in reality. Like Dickens, Le Fanu can paint such a vivid portrait of character and setting that the reader feels he is personally acquainted with the people and places in the story. Like Poe, Le Fanu uses those elements to envelope the reader with a sense of gathering darkness and, at last, allows him or her to breathe easier as the dark begins to fade and secrets come to light.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 5 of 5 Stars.
If you think only sinners make for interesting reading, you should pick up this volume to learn how exciting sainthood can be. The title of the introductory chapter, “Saint of the Sock Drawer” is an immediate indication of the lighthearted but loving treatment of the saints featured in the 12 chapters that follow. For those of us who have enjoyed Fr. Martin’s appearances on many popular venues including the Colbert Report, this book is just more of the same: more levity, more lightheartedness, and, overarchingly, more love. Love is a two-way street for Fr. Martin, a “communion of saints,” as the Apostles Creed proclaims. Using his own life experiences as a springboard, Fr. Martin delves into the lives of saints as diverse as Therese of Lisieux, the retiring religious, and Dorothy Day, the social activist, Thomas Aquinas, whose life revolved around books, and St. Francis of Assisi, who told his followers they should not own even one.
For those of us who have always been comfortable with the saints, the book gives reinforcement and reason to our beliefs. For others who question the need for veneration of the saints, Fr. Martin’s gentle explanation of their role in his own life gives credence to the belief that they are valuable assets, both as intercessors and as models of what our own lives can be.
My interest in the study of Irish history has long since made me acutely aware of most of the gruesome details of An Gorta Mór, the Great Famine, and the disease and mass emigration that resulted. Sorrowfully, too, I’d read of the free-market and laissez faire policies that exacerbated the crisis. Left with no other option, the destitute Irish flocked to the docks to board coffin ships on which many or most of them would lose their lives. It was a bit of a relief, then, to read of the Jeanie Johnston, a barque built in Quebec by John Munn with care for the cargo it was to carry. The cast of praiseworthy characters in this true story also include the ship’s long-time captain, James Attridge, and her physician, Dr. Richard Blennerhassett. These two worked together to create an environment aboard ship that would result in eleven voyages with only one death to passenger or crew. Interwoven with the ship’s story is an anecdotal account of one of the Jeanie Johnston’s passengers. Nicholas Reilly was born aboard the ship on its first voyage, and for the duration of his long life listed the Atlantic Ocean as his place of birth.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 4 of 5 Stars.
Midway through this book, I nearly called it quits because I remembered who dunnit. It finally dawned on me that I had seen this Inspector Morse mystery--probably two or three times--on my local PBS channel. But although I knew the who, I couldn't exactly recall the why or how, so on I plowed. I had originally picked up this book to see if Dexter's portrait of Morse and his junior partner Lewis squared with the characters as portrayed by John Thaw and Kevin Whateley. I was not disappointed. It was like a reunion with old friends as I followed Morse from a fortnight's vacation through a thoughtful assessment of the clues regarding a beautiful Swedish girl who had gone missing in the Oxford area the previous year. I found myself marveling at Dexter's ability to provide both subtle clues to the solving of the mystery alongside clever red herrings. I realized, too, what a skillful job Thaw and Whateley had done in faithful recreating the solitary, beer swilling, crossword genius Morse and his sweet-natured, Morse-respecting sidekick Lewis, as well as familiar minor characters such as Morse’s boss, Strange, and the pathologist, Dr. Laura Hobson.
oldlibrarybook rated this book 4 of 5 Stars.
When the evils of the world seem to press down from every side, then is the time to take up a novel like this one by Canon Patrick Augustine Sheehan and let its sweetness work its magic. Sheehan was a Catholic priest and advocate for rights for his beloved Irish people. Yet in this novel at least, the hero is a wealthy landlord and--saints forbid--a Protestant. Bob Maxwell is goaded by Outram, a consummate imperialist fresh from India, to accept the challenge to live for a year as an Irish peasant. He finds charitable hospitality with the McAuliffe family at their bit of a farm they call Lisheen. For months, the family shares their meager food and pitiful lodgings with Maxwell, even caring for him through a dreadful bout of rheumatic fever. Although the setting of this novel predates the Great Famine, the horrors of eviction are already widespread and here graphically described. The reader, however dismayed by the turn of events, reads on eagerly in the sure knowledge that, as in a novel by Dickens, all will come out right in the end. A sprinkle of romance and a dash of the exotic East add a bit of spice to this otherwise sweet little novel.
