Georgia author Terry Kay’s eleventh novel is a charming story Irish story about love and death and pubs and sacred landscapes and the kind of magic that will draw away your workaday world cares the way the sun draws away the mist from summer fields soon after the break of day.
“At the moment of his death,” Bogmeadow’s Wish begins, “Michael Finn Coghlan’s life slipped quietly out of his body, like the gentle release of a small, cool fish into dark waters.” To read Terry Kay is to become accustomed to such imagery.
In his author’s note, Kay (To Dance with the White Dog, Valley of Light) says that this “light romance” with “the kind of exaggerated spirit one expects of the Irish” is filled with something he’s never written about before: magic.
In terms of storytelling and a craftsman’s love of language, this novel is classic Terry Kay. But the magic is new and it begins with purported struggle back in the old country between Michael Finn Coghlan and a leprechaun named Bogmeadow who—when captured by Coghlan—granted a wish that could be handed down through the generations until it was used.
Coghlan left Ireland years ago for reasons he won’t clarify. Throughout his lifetime, he was known for his stories about his homeland—Ah, let me tell you about Finn McCool and Sally Cavanaugh over a pint at Dugan’s Tavern. . .This brings to mind the tale about Patrick the Believer—yet when given a fine chance to return to Ireland for a visit, he refused, angering his perplexed wife.
Finn never went back to Ireland or used Bogmeadow’s Wish, though speaking of them made fine stories. A Kay's story unfolds, Finn’s grandson Cooper Finn Coghlan of Atlanta is following his grandfather’s wish: taking his ashes back to Ireland. “Let my ashes blow in the wind. You'll know the place when you come to it. I'll be there, telling you.” Jealous that they’re not going with him, Cooper’s close friends map out his itinerary to ensure he sees the sights worth seeing and insist that he call home with frequent reports about every pint, every glorious vista and the ongoing status of the ashes.
Cooper travels, waits to hear his grandfather say “this the place” and meets people along the way who have stories to tell, who wish to do him harm, and who hope to kiss him, and everywhere he goes is seemingly tangled with a magic of sorts as though hidden-away hands are pulling strings and arranging his fate. The spitting image of his grandfather, Cooper loves the old stories and he can tell them well. But since he’s basically a logical man, he’s hard-pressed to account for the prospective magic that’s turning his trip to Ireland into the kind of story old Michael Finn Coghlan would tell from his favorite chair in his favorite pub.
The story sings. You’ll hear the toe-tapping music of flutes and fiddles and the lilt of Irish voices in Kay’s words. He discovered the story waiting for him within his imagination while traveling between Dublin and Waterford and Cork. In Bogmeadow’s Wish, you'll find the towns and the people are just as real as Kay discovered in his own experience. And what’s more, you cannot help but follow young Cooper’s trip through a land where, as his grandfather once said, “nothing happened because it happened” without considering the why of things.
Such notions bring to mind the story of a man named Cooper Finn Coghlan who traveled from Atlanta to Dublin with a box of ashes to scatter and discovered with the help of an expedient teller of tales named Sandy McAfee and beautiful young woman named Kathleen O'Reilly everything he needed to know to put his life back together if he could only resist lapsing back into logic and practicality and running away home.