“The fact is, we are missing so many threads in our story that the tapestry of Irish life cannot but fall apart.”

“I am trying to be faithful to what is in my head. I hope it is trying to be as faithful to me.”

I had never heard of this book, or author before last month. My long-distance book club decided to read something by an Irish author for our March book, in our own little celebration of St. Patrick’s Day, and this was the winner. I had no idea what to expect going in, either from the writing or the story, but this is why I like to be part of book clubs. They push me outside of my reading “comfort zone,” introducing me to books and authors I would never have tried otherwise.

This book, mostly, tells the story of Roseanne McNulty. When we meet her, she is somewhere around 100 years old, living in a rundown psychiatric hospital/home. She knows that she is probably not long for this world, and has no living family or friends, so she decides to record the story of her life as she remembers it. At the same time, the lead physician at the hospital, Dr. Grene, learns that the building is to be torn down in favor of a newer, but smaller, facility and he is tasked with deciding which current residents truly need beds at the new spot and which can be “released.” To that end, he starts to ask Roseanne about herself, to truly understand why she was committed in the first place, but he makes very little inroad and decides to do some investigating on his own. So, at the same time that we are hearing Roseanne’s story from her own memory, we are hearing it from the doctor as he pieces it together from old documents and recordings. As things unfold, secrets start to come to air that have long been buried.

Looking at the cover of this novel, it gives off the vibe of an older book, a classic type novel that one would read in high school English. And to be quite honest, the writing matches. It has that intelligent, old-timey cadence that is common in classics. A sort of archaic type of writing that requires finesse and talent (and impressive vocabulary) from the author, but does not as much simulate the way words are used and spoken in day to day reality. As a result, it was a little hard for me to get into it at first and I struggled to find an interest in reading through the words themselves until the story started to take off (probably a quarter to a third of the way in). Once that started coming together though, and we actually get into the meat of Roseanne’s life, the story unfolds in a very understated, but sweeping way. The story telling method of back and forth perspectives, those of Roseanne and Dr. Grene, are used effectively here. In fact, it was truly a skilled portrayal of the role of perspective in history and story-telling and the possibility of knowing the truth (an understanding of the general facts of what happened) without actually knowing the truth (the how and impact of what happened). The focus here on the importance of the personal voice in telling one’s own story, and also the fallacy of relying purely on one’s memory of something, is priceless.

The main beauty of this novel is that it contains a really impressive recent history of Ireland, politically and culturally, seamlessly woven into this story. It’s as if Roseanne’s story is simply a vehicle with which the author personalized Ireland’s traumatic and violent past. Her story parallels and suffers from it in equal measure, in a way that is subtle and strong-handed at the same time. I have to say that, since it was written in her own voice, from her own memories, there were a number of historical references that I either had to look up or was, thankfully, a little aware of since I just recently read The Heart’s Invisible Furies, which has some similar recent history themes. But in any case, if that kind of thing bothers you, references to historical persons/events/issues that are not completely explained, go into this book knowing to expect that here. It’s something that could throw you off, but the book is so illuminating, if you can get past it, that I don’t want it to throw anyone off unintentionally. Regardless, the insight we get of the reality of living in Ireland during the past 100 or so years, many of which the country spent in upheaval of one kind or another, and particularly how that played out for and was experienced by women (generally heart wrenching, if I’m going to be honest), is well developed and educational.

Last, with the final reveal at the end, I was initially disappointed, thinking it was too “perfect” of a situation and it didn’t seem real, which, considering the reality of the novel (discussed more in depth below) was frustrating. However, while I thought that was the end of it, there is a little more still coming, one final detail before the story ends. And with that last bit of information that comes out, concerning the background machinations – if you will, though that might be too strong a term – of one of the overlooked characters, my perspective totally changed. It becomes significantly more believable and, dare I say, poetic. And not only that, it positively melted my heart.

Although this won’t make my list of favorite novels of the year, and even as far as Ireland’s recent history goes there are others I’d recommend first (though really only because I have a particular soft spot for the one I mentioned earlier, The Heart’s Invisible Furies), this was a very well executed story and introduction to Irish history. In addition, allowing the story to be told by a woman, who tended to be at the tough end of most things during this time period, gives voice to a very non-voiced population. And that is very much worth something. Overall, I’m glad to have spent the time reading this.