The girls are spending a month in a Donegal Gaeltacht, learning Irish language and culture from their teachers and from the local people they are boarding with. They respond to the untamed landscape of river, hill and sea, finding in it unnerving echoes of their own submerged - and now emerging - wildnesses. In this richly complex novel, Éilís Ní Dhuibhne, one of Ireland's most exciting and original writers, uses the experiences and emotions of girls on the cusp of womanhood to explore dangerous territories of sex, politics, class, and Irishness.
Éilís Ní Dhuibhne is a writer and critic. She was born in Dublin in 1954. She attended University College Dublin, where she studied Pure English, then Folklore. She was awarded the UCD Entrance scholarship for English, and two post graduate scholarships in Folklore. In 1978-9 she studied at the University of Copenhagen, and in 1982 was awarded a PhD from the National University of Ireland. She has worked in the Department of Irish Folklore in UCD, and for many years as a curator in the National Library of Ireland. Also a teacher of Creative Writing, she has been Writer Fellow at Trinity College and is currently Writer Fellow at UCD. She is a member of Aosdána.
Eilis Ni Dhuibhne is also known as Eilis Almquist and Elizabeth O'Hara.
Gorgeously written, peopled, drawn, plotted, developed - there's nothing to it; it's some young women at a language-leaning camp; from this simple focus Dhuibhne draws out some of the richest characterizations I've ever read. The scene in which Orla walks past her waving aunt without acknowledging her is one of the sharpest, saddest scenes I've ever read. I'll be seeking out more of Dhuibhne's work; I found out about her through Dalkey Archive's Best European Fiction series a few years back.
In a Donegal Gealtacht in 1972, four teenage girls from different sides of the border immerse themselves in Irish language and dance while also learning more about their own personal liberation. I finished this novel in a single sitting, I was so drawn in. At times I felt this narrative loomed right on the edge of many sinister childhood stories from Ireland (I've recently read a series of depressing books from Irish women authors) but this novel managed to show how real that danger was, whilst creating a beautiful picture of a single month of adolescence. It really is a charming book.
3,5/5 stars. This is a book that I need to reread in a few years. It is also one of those kinds of books that seem somewhat directionless and all over the place when you’re reading them. Only afterwards can you see the beauty of it. I found myself actually skipping bits towards the end. It was a light read though, and the prose is simply beautiful. It’s a book about a forlorn time, and I think it is more beautiful if you can identify with it a bit more. Now it felt sometimes somewhat endless.
We’ve all had those coming-of-age experiences, that oddly shine in our memory, where nothing much happened externally but so great a valley was riven internally that we are never the same. So though this story is a very particular Irish 1970’s tale, it hits on universal truths about adolescence that ring true across cultures. The writing was exquisite- I felt I was there. I wish I were!
I bought this while I was taking a short-lived Irish night class (it turns out Polish is actually easier, which ... isn't something I ever thought I would say). Plus in general I'm keen to learn more about Ireland, especially experiences of it that I haven't had. This novel brings things together nicely because it's about girls from Dublin and Derry meeting at the Gaeltacht in Donegal in 1972. They're at an awkward age, they've got issues to do with fickle teenage friendships, class, puberty, and, in some cases, the Troubles™. Ni Dhuibhne's writing style is clever and enjoyable, and the story moves along at a decent pace. I liked the use of foreshadowing with no real subsequent danger - that's how life works, sometimes.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Didn't really like this book to begin with but after a while started enjoying it. I think Orla is someone any young person can relate to, growing up feeling different and trying to fit in and be like everyone else. It's only when you're older that you try to be 'different'. It takes you back to a time when you were unsure of yourself and who you were and what it meant to be versions of yourself. Like most Irish texts that are post-colonial, reflecting on the past, this novel also plays a lot with memory and forgetting....haha just wrote an essay on this due tomorrow...i could go on and on. But yea - do read! Pretty good read :)
Charming Bildungsroman, this is the story of four diverse young teens beginning to grapple with what it means to be Irish as they enjoy a summer language school in a Donegal Gaeltacht village. Occasionally, a distinct omniscient voice breaks into the narrative to comment on the story, but for the most part the narrative is told through the honestly naive and self-focused 13-year-old subjects. Dhuibhne captures the reality of this particular time in a girl's life with unflinching, though kindly accuracy. They are by turns, cruel, kind, generous, self-conscious and oblivious to all but their own troubles.
Story takes place in Ireland where by you meet Orla and her friends Aisling and Sandra during the 1970s when the Troubles occured. She and her friends get sent to a summer camp called Irish College to get to know how to speak Irish, dance at a ceili (Irish dance), and is coming of age with her housemates for the summer. Lovely writing by the author.
Of course the reader will more than once feel like shaking up Orla, but her innocence and honesty (towards the reader, not the other characters) are more than likely to counteract this impulse. Besides the protagonist's flawed but sympathetic soul, the novel recalls with great power the lost childhood. There is no need to have been to an Irish college in Donegal in the 1970s to connect with the characters and see oneself reflected in them. Additionally, the themes of belonging and nationality linger in the reader's mind long after finishing the novel, prompting more questions than answers, but with an inevitable aura of optimism.
I felt like I read nothing at all but also everything. This novel covered every experience a young teenage girl might encounter in a very realistic matter. It felt like reading someone’s diary (disorganized narration style, brutally honest judgement, contradictory opinions from Orla based on whatever she was feeling at the time, separated by titles-like of diary entries-instead of chapter numbers, and no real plot-instead character driven). I liked it but was never excited to read more-objectively though a great novel.
This book is all over the place. Sometimes it's staying too long on one issue. The narrative style changes at random. Storylines are started and end up nowhere or are forgotten. Sometimes the book becomes interesting, only to become incredibly dull again a few pages later.
An enjoyable study of four weeks in the lives of a group of teenage girls set in Ireland. Beautifully written, the story avoids drama and peril, instead exploring the issues of importance to young people in the 1970s...blushes, shoes chosen by your mother and that first kiss.
I read The Dancers Dancing the first time for a class on contemporary Irish fiction. I had no expectation going in to it, but when I had finished the novel, I knew that this one would be one of my rare favorites. That was back in 2014, and I haven’t reread it since, though I’ve been tempted a handful of times. Now, ten years later, I decided it was time to see if it would get a hold of my heart as much as the first time. And, spoilers, it really did.
The Dancers Dancing is a stunning coming-of-age story set in an Ireland that is on the cusp of reaching its own adolescence. The year is 1972. The north is ravaged by conflicts, and Bloody Sunday is still a fresh wound in the national memory. In these uncertain and scary times, a busload of school kids travel from Dublin to Donegal for a summer Irish school where they are to learn the way of Irishness, but are going on a journey to find themselves just as much. Ní Dhuibhne is a master at crafting a language that is both interesting, beautiful and heart wrenching.
The central story surrounds Orla and the girls she is boarding with at one of the local families in Tubbers, a small village deemed to represent the Irish way of life and culture. There, we find rolling landscapes, people living on and of the land, and the burn that is mischievously posing as a babbling brook, but in actuality is treacherous and dangerous, much like womanhood can be in a place where both religion and tradition dictate the female ideals.
I find the stories of two of the main characters particularly intriguing, but am also enjoying getting their respective stories interjected with glimpses of what the future might hold for both of them. Orla, a Dubliner, is our main protagonist. She is 13, on the cusp of leaving childhood, but has not yet transitioned into womanhood. She’s navigating this liminal space longing to assimilate and fit in. She is struggling to find her place among her peers, somehow always finding herself lacking. The clothes, the parents, and her family’s social standing, all are a cause for anxiety for her.
In contrast, a girl from Derry, Pauline, is in a similar state of transition, but farther along on this journey of metamorphosing from childhood to adulthood than Orla. We accompany her on her nighttime visits to the beach to spend time with the boy she likes, and the exploration of her newfound sexuality.
Their stories are intermingled and weaved together with the Irish landscape, thus creating a beautiful tapestry of Irish womanhood. I find the scenes at the burn especially beautiful, seeing Orla (and Pauline to a certain degree) exploring the great outdoors as well as the great indoors, so to speak. We follow her first, hesitant adventures into the wilderness, throughout her exploration farther and farther into the burn, metaphorically venturing into the collective female experience within both history and contemporary times. At last, she finds her own voice among the thorns and brambles, and she can now see herself as a peer among the generations of women who have made this burn a secret part of womanhood.
I also very much enjoyed the playfulness with language that is occurring a few times throughout the book. The language syntax blending itself between English and Irish makes for an insight to the experience of the children slowly learning to adapt to only speaking Irish, as well as the different accents sneaking into the language. It could’ve been awkward, but instead I as a reader get to be privy to the transformation that the children undergo at the summer school.
I could write an entire essay about all the aspects of this book that I love, but I will leave it here, so that you, dear reader, can discover them on your own journey through life. I hope you’ll enjoy this novel as much as I do.
The strange thing is, I have very little to say about this book. I mean, I liked it and I'd probably pass it on to others to read, but it's just your basic literary fiction. Though I will say the short, episodic scenes work much better here than they do in other things I've read (and attempted to read...)