272 words
Book Club Read
Blurb
Five toasts. Five
people. One lifetime.
'An extraordinary novel, a poetic writer,
and a story that moved me to tears.' John Boyne
'I'm here to
remember - all that I have been and all that I will never be again.'
At the bar of a grand hotel in a small
Irish town sits 84-year-old Maurice Hannigan. He's alone, as usual - though
tonight is anything but. Pull up a stool and charge your glass, because Maurice
is finally ready to tell his story. Over the course of this evening, he will
raise five toasts to the five people who have meant the
most to him. Through these stories - of unspoken joy and regret, a secret
tragedy kept hidden, a fierce love that never found its voice - the life of one
man will be powerfully and poignantly laid bare.
Heart-breaking and
heart-warming all at once, the voice of Maurice Hannigan will stay with you
long after all is said.
'A hugely enjoyable,
engrossing novel, a genuine page-turner.' Donal Ryan
Review
“I’m here to remember – all that I have been
and all that I never be again.”
I know that line is
in the blurb too, but it is so powerful I had to repeat it here, in my review.
It is the essence of this book, a vivid description of Maurice Hannigan’s
evening. Because the question at the soul of this book, as far as I’m concerned,
is what constitutes a life? What matters when we near the end and we make up
the balance of the years we’ve lived? Which are the memories that we hold on to
and the ones we can’t shake, no matter how much we might want to? And who were
the people who worked their way into our hearts and never left, even after
their physical presence on earth came to an end?
As Maurice takes up
his usual spot in the bar of the hotel, situated in a building that has haunted
his life, he ‘talks’ to his son, who isn’t there and will therefore never hear
the full tale of his father’s life. Unsurprisingly, it is in large part a tale
of loss. The loss of Tony, who died too young of TB. The loss of Molly, Maurice’s
baby girl who never had a chance to live. The loss of Noleen, his sister in law
who despite having mental health issues played such a pivotal role in Maurice’s
life. Maurice’s toast to Kevin, his son, isn’t at first glance, about loss.
Kevin is still very much alive. But maybe that makes this toast even sadder,
because it’s clear Maurice believes he never fully connected with his only
child, who was the complete opposite of him. The final and biggest loss of all,
the one that broke the camel’s back, is that of his wife, Sadie.
“No one, no one really knows loss until it’s
someone you love. The deep-down kind of love that holds on to your bones and digs
itself right in under your fingernails, as hard to budge as the years of
compacted earth. And when it’s gone…it’s as if its’ been ripped from you. Raw
and exposed, you stand dripping blood all over the good feckin’ carpet.
Half-human, half-dead, one foot already in the grave.”
I’ve known for almost
thirty years that loss can be a physical pain. And that, while the body
recovers, the heart and mind take longer, and refuse to let go completely. That
can be a blessing, but sometimes—and very clearly in Maurice’s case—good
memories and even a life-time of love to remember and cherish are not enough to
keep a person going. Combine loss with loneliness, and you come pretty close to
a description of hell on earth.
“I didn’t need him to do anything other than
just be alive.”
Poor Maurice, he
blames himself for not being good enough to and for any of his loved ones. And
yet, as I read his tale, all I could see what his humanity. He lived his life
as most of us do, trying his best and not living up to the standards he sets
himself. Because, while Maurice’s is the predominant voice in this story, you
don’t have to read deeply between the lines to know that those he talks about
would tell him he was more than good enough, despite his mistakes, misjudgments,
and not always ideal decisions.
Part of me knew how
this story would end when I read the blurb. All of me knew what was going to
happen by the time I reached 5% of this story. For what it’s worth, I’m with
Maurice on this one. Life may be and often is a gift. Gifts however, can be
refused. And when a gift goes past its sell-by date, we are, or at least should
be, allowed to discard it.
While I have no
doubt there will be those who say that Maurice’s decision is selfish, I
disagree. Because you can’t live your life for others alone.
Long story short, I
loved this book. It took me through a full range of emotions, forced me to
think and feel, and brought home, how much life has changed over the course of
a life-time like Maurice’s. This is probably my favourite book club read of
2019, and I can’t wait until we get to discuss it. Opinions will, no doubt, be
divided. 😊
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