Argh! I’ve officially missed the deadline for logging reviews for Reading Ireland Month, so I’ll keep it brief:

Trespasses by Louise Kennedy

A book doesn’t have to break new ground to be really, really good. In fact, some might argue that it’s a greater challenge to write about something that’s been covered at length by others. And yes, there are loads of books about The Troubles in Northern Ireland but Kennedy distinguishes herself with Trespasses by creating characters that the reader will care very deeply about. The writing is stunning, the moments where the plot takes a turn are heart-wrenching, and I absolutely urge everyone to read it.

4/5

Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell

The Marriage Portrait is a tough-reading-act to follow, particularly for someone who is not mad for historical fiction. Hamnet lacked the razzle-dazzle melodrama of Portrait, and I wasn’t crazy about switching perspectives between the characters but when Agnes tends to the body of her dead son, eleven-year-old Hamnet, my heart ached. It’s a remarkable piece of writing and O’Farrell skillfully weaves so much about the experience of grief into the detail.

3.5/5

The Guts by Roddy Doyle

Oh dear. I went in with high hopes for this book, expecting the energy and banter that is trademark Doyle but what I got was something confused. It’s a story about music, cancer, and second chances but the detail was uneven (notably the exhausting hunt for old recordings and the music festival that felt like it would never end) and a few sub-plots seemed completely superfluous. The snappy dialogue between the main character, Jimmy, and his father provided the only real relief in a book that plods to a predictable end.

2/5

I received my copy of The Guts from the publisher, Viking, via NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.

Milk by Alice Kinsella

This poetic memoir really deserves a full and thorough review. I’ll do my best to emphasise its importance.

Kinsella reflects on her experience of pregnancy, childbirth, ‘madness’, and the first nine months of her son’s life, with Ireland’s historical treatment of women and mothers as a backdrop. The experiences of Kinsella’s own mother and grandmother provide personal context.

Our ever-present history… to be a pregnant woman in Ireland is to know the fortune of your time and place of birth.

Kinsella’s descriptions of her newborn resonated strongly for me –

The days are filled with love and panic. A friend tells her those feelings don’t go away but they become less intense. Like grief.

And she captures the vigilance, doubt, and overwhelming emotion of many new mothers.

I keep him safe from the world. This imperfect world I’ve brought him into, this imperfect body I have taken him from.

There is so much more to this memoir – the gender gap in terms of treatment of pain; inter-generational trauma; the role of the Catholic Church; the fact that the ‘superpowers’ and sacrifice of mothers is presented as a compliment when it is actually an expectation; and the idea that it takes a village to raise a child but modern women have lost their village. A rich and thought-provoking book.

4/5