Mairéad works all hours in a run-down West End theatre’s wardrobe department, her whole existence made up of threads and needles, running errands to mend shoes, fixing broken zips and handwashing underwear. She must also do her best to avoid groping hands backstage and the terrible bullying of the show’s producer.
But, despite her skill and growing experience, half of Mairéad remains in her windy, hedge-filled home in Ireland, and the life she abandoned there. In noughties London, she has the potential to be somebody completely new – why, then, does she feel so stuck? Between the bustling side streets of Soho, and the wet grass of Leitrim and Donegal, Mairéad is caught, running from the girl she was but unable to reveal the woman she’d hoped to become.
Told with rare honesty and equal measures of warmth and bite, The Wardrobe Department is a story about reckoning with the past, finding the courage to change the present – and asking what comes next.
Mairéad is a young woman working in Wardrobe for one of the seedier theatres in London. She doesn't like her shape, often struggles to make herself heard and is far from a home that she was happy to leave.
Despite Mairéad never really feeling like a fully formed character that actually began to be part of the story. She never seems happy where she is and with what she is doing but she does know what she doesn't want.
This novel grew on me and Mairéad became clearer after her visit home to warring parents and where she'd been glad to escape from.
The story, for me, centres on power and those who abuse it. We have the theatre director who is a tyrant, various people Mairéad works with who treat her badly or often use physical abuse to get what they want. Even back home Mairéad has to face up to a very uncomfortable history of abuse within her own family.
Elaine Garvey has created a story which feels like a Monet painting - impressionistic rather than definite strokes. I'd be very interested to see where her writing takes us next. She is most certainly a talent to watch.
Thankyou to Netgalley and Canongate Books for the advance review copy.
Despite being a short novel, this dragged quite a bit for me. Set in 2002 (but feeling much more historical than that for the most part), Mairéad works in the wardrobe department in a small, rundown theatre in London’s West End. She’s left her family at home in the North West of Ireland to begin a new life in London, but she seems preoccupied with home, lacking in confidence and unable to make her mark.
In fragmented prose and choppy dialogue that I found very annoying, every moment of Margaret’s existence in London is hard fought. When she returns to Ireland, the novel improves dramatically and as a reader, you feel this is where the author is most comfortable in the story. The characters are authentic and realised, and the story compelling.
A miss overall for me but real promise there. Thank you Canongate Books for the arc via @netgalley in exchange for an honest review. 2.5/5 ⭐️
There are some powerful moments in this short novel about a young Irishwoman working in the wardrobe department of a London theatre. Mairead is lonely and lacks confidence and still finding her place in the workplace. About half way through her grandmother dies and she returns to Ireland for the funeral. She has a difficult relationship with her parents as well. At first I wasn’t sure whether there was much going on but in the end it’s quite moving.
This book contains some good bits, especially the section in Ireland but the first 100 pages are simply difficult to get through. I found myself really struggling to read it.
Not gonna lie, I was 75% drawn to this book by the cover artwork alone (stunning painting) and I’d say 50:50 sold on the actual subject matter (especially as I’m no fashionista, nor theatre lovey).
That said, once I made my foray through the double doors, and into the luscious (though post performance, definitely gritty) velveteen carpet of the life inside the (fictional) life of St Leonard’s theatre, and its rather eclectic (or should be, eccentric) ensemble of characters, I was pleasantly surprised (at least more so during the first act). That’s right, uniquely(? Though I guess in terms of context, more “well suited”) structured into three parts; London, Ireland, London, (or as I like to think of it; first act, intermission, second or final act) Garvey not only “lifts the curtain” (alright, I’ll quit it with the theatre metaphors) on life backstage (quite literally), but how Mairéad (or young buck protagonist) finds herself constantly having to “manage” and manoeuvre the disparate personalities, and various power plays/players that make up the theatrical production in London, but also how these same types of “dynamics”, appear to be present in her past life, self -and family, back in Ireland too.
My one main criticism though -despite having dealt such praise above, is that towards halfway (or intermission if you will), I did feel as though some semblance of direction -and or indeed “purpose”, was slightly lost. Especially when we return to London in the “final act” (I know, I can’t help it) which seemed incredibly rushed and underdeveloped to its opening counterpart.
Weirdly, I think I’d actually have preferred to have remained in “London/theatre land” throughout, than having this pause in between (even though I do understand its purpose to provide context for Mairéad’s pre London self), in order to fully explore the various characters, themes etc -or, dare I say it, this might be a rare occasion, when a book would’ve “benefited” from being longer !
Either way, it was still an entertaining and engaging novel, that creatively tackles idea of reckoning with our sense (and even purpose) of self; past and present, in order to move “forward” into the future.
“If I had two rooms to live in, I would spend my days believing I should be in the other one.”
In The Wardrobe Department, by Elaine Garvey (UK Release 13th Feb 2025) we are delivered to 2002, and the story of Mairéad, a young Irish woman who works in a small London Theatre. Creative and skilled, she’s finding her first job unglamourous: the costumes are in a constant state of disrepair, torn, stained, and stinking. In the cramped confines of the theatre it’s difficult to avoid the patronising and predatory cast and crew, and the show’s resident tyrant, Oliver, the producer of the current play. Charismatic, overbearing, and vindictive, he’s best avoided by the technical staff.
Mairéad feels out of place, at a sharp remove from her immediate colleagues. She imagines they sneer at her, seeing her as an ignorant yokel at loose in the big city. Aggrieved at this, she’s oblivious of her own shallow preconceptions about their lives.
Contact with her family in Ireland is minimal. It’s clear she’s come to London to escape something, to renew herself, feeling that she was out of place there too, but her loneliness has brought her to place of statis.
Everything she tried to leave behind still has a hold on her, distant voices berating and dismissive, fuelling her fears and self-doubt. If it’s better to be less visible – unnoticed and unattractive, a survival technique in a world of powerful, handsy men – what’s to stop you disappearing altogether?
A trip back to Ireland might provide a chance for Mairéad to look her history in the eye and understand what brought her here.
Mairéad is complex and convincing, and her story is told with persuasive acuity. Elaine Garvey has gifted each of her characters with assured nuance. Their words and actions allow us to build out their dimensions. She’s equally good at conjouring a sense of place and atmosphere with a light, effective, touch. I found myself delightedly wrongfooted at times by The Wardrobe Department, the plot veering away from the expected to tell a story full of truthful tenderness and hope.
This is quite an enjoyable debut. Set in 2002, Mairead goes to London to work in the wardrobe department of a rather seedy theatre. This brought back many memories from my own time working in a theatre.
Mairead is unhappy there but somehow you are left we the impression she’d be unhappy anywhere. We finally learn more about her and her background when she travels back to Ireland to attend her granny’s funeral.
Boring version of the same book you've read a hundred different times, just with a little "backstage at a theatre" window dressing for flavor. No reason for it to be called The Wardrobe Department since that's just a job she had. She could've been a chef and it was called The Bakery, or a secretary and it was called The Bureau. In fact, both those books probably exist and are identical to this one. Nothing that made it stand out from the crowd (okay, if you want some random trip to Ireland to break up the narrative, sure, go ahead). Not going to remember reading this one.
This is a brief yet exquisitely written piece of literary fiction that captivates with its atmospheric storytelling. I find it hard to put into words, but this book truly transports me to the vivid locations the narrator describes. Each scene unfolds like a painting, immersing me in the sights and sounds of the world within its pages. I particularly enjoyed delving into the hidden intricacies of glamorous theater life, uncovering the untold stories that lie behind the glittering facade. I enjoy it lots
Thanks to Elaine Garvey and NetGalley for this ARC!!
Mairéad is an absolute dream of a protagonist, both understated and full of depth at the same time. I love the way it showed her trying to constantly juggle the expectations placed on her, either backstage or amongst the complex relationships of her family. There was something quite timeless about the way Garvey writes too, at any point it felt quite ‘classic’ in tone but really current at the same time. I really enjoyed it.
Such a dreary book. I really struggle to read characters who are constantly embarrassed by their own existence, I understand being 22 is hard but from what I remember it can also be so much fun. I just keep thinking: buck up. The writing style and short sentences felt dull rather than whatever it was meant to do. A shame.
It is 2002 (though you'd be forgiven for feeling it is much more historical than that for the most part), and Mairéad works in the wardrobe department in a small, rundown theatre in London’s West End. She’s left her family at home in the North West of Ireland to begin a new life in London, but Mairead is doleful, unmoored, and lonely, prey to the lecherous ‘boys club’ theatre men and a producer who’s an absolute dose.
Told in fragmented prose that seems to reflect our protagonist's mental state, every moment of Mairéad’s existence in London feels hard fought. She wants to study and improve her meagre existence, but despite this desire to move forward, the past clings to her as distant voices of criticism and doubt echo in her mind, fueling her fears and insecurities.
Then, she heads home to Ireland for a bit, and suddenly, the story really quickens in pace. The past unravels, she comes fully into focus, and I was hooked.
But here’s the thing—I found parts of the London sections a slog, while the Ireland section felt too rushed. The balance was off, and I was left wanting more of what was working and less of what wasn’t.
It’s grand, not great—compelling, raw, realistic characters, a strong premise, but a small bit uneven. That said, there’s real potential here, and I’d be very interested to see what this author does next. 3.5/5
Thank you to the publisher for giving me the opportunity to read via NetGalley and for sending me a physical copy. As always, this is an honest review.
The Wardrobe Department is the debut novel from Irish author Elaine Garvey. I actually went between the print copy and the audio; the narration is great on the audiobook, and it’s on borrowbox.
Mairéad is a young Irish woman who works tirelessly in a West-End theatre’s wardrobe department. This is supposed to be the first step towards the creative life she wants for herself, but so far she’s been overworked, groped backstage, and bullied by the show’s producer.
Still, the job helped her escape her oppressive small-town home in Ireland, and the difficult relationship she has with her father.
When she is unexpectedly called to return home however, she finally has to truly grapple with her family’s past, and figure out how they can move forward.
Interestingly, the setting is circa 2002 but it feels much older at times; I found I had to keep re-orientating myself, which actually added to the flailing vibes I was getting from the main character. A clever choice.
This is a quick read; it actually felt more like a short story that had been fleshed out to me, and I’m not sure it worked super well in that format. Something felt missing.
That said, I liked the writing and really felt for Mairéad. Her story ends somewhat abruptly and I wanted to know what happened to her after that!
I’ll be interested to read whatever Elaine Garvey writes next.
With many thanks to the publishers for my early copy. All opinions are my own, as always. The Wardrobe Department is available to buy now.
The Wardrobe Department* by Elaine Garvey, narrated by Denise Gough, is the debut novel from a new Irish author which I ended up reading between both the audiobook on BorrowBox and the print copy. This isn’t something I usually do but I needed a book for a walk and was starting to get into the story so, popped it on my headphones and it really brought the story to life.
Set in 2002, Mairead has just moved to London and secured a role in the wardrobe department of a West End Theatre. She left Ireland and her fractious family dynamic behind in search of something more creative, but didn’t anticipate feeling so broke, bone-tired and bullied.
When she has to return to Ireland a few months later, she is forced to confront the relationships she has with her parents and extended family, as well as what she actually wants from her life in London.
From the off, Mairead is clearly struggling in more ways than one and there is an undercurrent of anxiety throughout the book that felt really accomplished for a new writer. I don’t know whether it was the tone of the writing or because any West End adjacent books I have read have been set in the 1940s+, but I kept forgetting that this was supposed to be a relatively modern young woman in a very developed city and the occasional mention of a laptop or mobile phone made me feel all disoriented (I was over here picturing Mairead with pincurls and tea dresses when she was actually living in the age of Ed Hardy and Juicy Couture!). A weird trick of the mind for sure!
Set in the early noughties world of London theatre, this is a quiet, sad and at times, erratic story centring on Mairead, a young woman from Co. Leitrim, who is working as an assistant in the wardrobe department of a struggling theatre company. Mairead is doleful, unmoored and lonely, prey to the handsy theatre men and victim to the bullying producer.
After a strong opening, I began to find the narrative challenging, but soon realised that this is a clue to Mairead's state of mind. She is a bit of an oddball, she doesn't quite fit in. The author does a beautiful job of creating that sense of awkwardness, never seeming to do or say the right thing, and as the reader, the feeling is real.
When her grandmother in Ireland dies, and she makes the journey home, it becomes clear that Mairead is as much a stranger there, as in London.
"If I had two rooms to live in, I would spend my days believing I should be in the other room"
As we met her closer family, the details of her childhood unfold and the impressionistic Mairead comes into full focus.
I love this story. It's millennial backdrop, it's almost Kevin Barryesque Irishness, it's emotional hook. Garvey has found a surprisingly inventive way to explore a character from the outside in.
Publication date: 13th February 2025 Thanks to #NetGalley and #CanongateBooks for providing an ARC for review purposes
A mid twenties coming of age story about an Irish woman living in London. It started pretty slow for me but by about the halfway point things really picked up. A lot of great (sad) stuff about generational trauma and mother / daughter relationships. If you are familiar with the song The Baton by Katie Gavin (my favorite song of the moment) this book (in its best moments) made me feel the way that song does.
An unusual book. I enjoyed section where Mairead returns to Ireland as this is when we learn most about her. The abuse by people in positions of power is sadly too common.
The book had some good parts but it was hard to follow in parts. Also, some emotional outbursts were sudden and left unexplained making me feel as if I missed something.
The Wardrobe Department, for me, was more of 3.5 star. It held a lot of promise but for the first two-thirds I struggled to connect or even understand Mairéad and how she behaved. I didn't really like her though loved the environment and other staff members of the wardrobe department. The ins and outs and the requirement of that team, with the strong personalities of actors and actresses one must navigate whilst dressing them, felt wholly real. The casual chit chat and gossip around mugs of tea was authentic and genuine. That part was spotless, I felt I was there but Mairéad was the element that didn't fully fit? She seemed to hold herself back from everyone and failed to engage. She acted like a kicked dog fearful of contact but it wasn't really explained. There was one potential incident but that didn't match her level of aversion. If the story her mother conveyed later was actually Mairéad's, it would make full sense. But no. She also starved herself without much clarity as to why. It just seemed awkward. At the point where I thought I might give up, it turned a corner. The last third felt like it was penned from a different hand. It was more lucid and cohesive. If the entire book had been like that throughout, I would be looking at a five star review. I didn't dislike it, as there were incredibly strong elements, but Mairéad was the one bit that failed to fit until the end.
I was looking forward to this. but it was a disappointing read. I struggled to finish it. It’s set in the early 2000s, but felt like it could have been the 50s or 60s. The depictions of London and Ireland seemed to be based on outdated stereotypes, e.g. the family gathering for a wake in rural Ireland, and the violence, anonymity and lack of community in the city. I didn’t find any of the characters sympathetic, and most of the men were portrayed as lecherous, misogynistic, bullying alcoholics. I found it a depressing read, despite the glimmer of hope and change at the very end.
An insightful book centered around an Irish immigrant working in the wardrobe department of a run down theatre in London. She struggles to deal with the past she left behind and the oppressive bullying of her current employer while trying to find the strength to leave both and face a future of her own choosing.
Very insightful and ultimately hopeful. An excellent debut novel.
I thought this book was set in the early twentieth century at first. I based my inference on the class dynamics and anxieties of the protagonist. She is absolutely terrified to make a wrong move at her job and is certain everyone is out to get her at all times. Due to her internal monologue, I imagined Mairéad to be from an isolated village in Ireland, sent far away to a foreign country (England) to work on her own for the very first time, perhaps with the goal of sending money back home. I pictured her to be about 15 years old based on her self-conscious concerns and childlike understanding of the world, which would be about right for that time period. I was into it at the beginning because I wanted to see how it would develop. I enjoy a nice period piece.
I was totally disoriented when a character suddenly walked into the wardrobe department with a laptop in hand. I was further confused when the main character casually mentioned being 27 years old. This book is not only set in 2002, but the main character is an adult, yet all she thinks about is: everyone looking down on her, everyone judging her (despite being very judgmental herself), being scared of her boss, being scared of her co-workers, being scared to ask questions, her body image issues, how dumb everything she says is, how inept she is, how much she lacks confidence, how everyone (including, literally, people monitoring cc tv in the metro) is staring at her and assessing her at all times.
Mairéad is terrified of everything at all times. She likes nothing. No matter how benign the scenario is, she is worried, terrified, afraid, nervous, upset, disappointed, dissatisfied, offended. She perceives every interaction in the most uncharitable way possible and she is always the victim. She has uncomfortably adolescent daydreams of kissing one of the actors at her work, but she could never! She’s too scared to kiss a boy! After all, she has wide hips! Her hair isn’t naturally shiny like the other girls! How could a girl like her ever kiss a boy??? That’s how the entire book reads. I had to keep reminding myself she was an adult and not a teenager.
I suppose it’s meant to be a character study about a woman with untreated anxiety, but it’s an absolute slog to read. Mairéad is so relentlessly negative and unlikable. I think it’s made worse by the lack of external actions or obstacles. If the protagonist were dealing with difficult circumstances, if she showed a little fight here and there, or had some humor about her own moroseness, there might be enough to make her relatable. You might root for her or understand her outlook. Likewise, if the book delved deeply into mental health it might have been a more successful arc. Instead, it shows the internal machinations of a deeply unhappy person in excruciating detail, without any progress until the very end when she suddenly acts extremely out of character. It’s abrupt and surface level when it comes to understanding and progress, so the whole thing falls flat. There aren’t sparkling moments of clarity or humor or self-improvement to break up the mediocre bleakness of it all. The side characters offer no respite, either. They are either boring and flat or caricatured stereotypes who are just as unlikable as the main character.
If you pick this up because you think there will be fun details about costuming you will also be disappointed on that count. Other than Mairéad occasionally touching fabric longingly (but she could never!) or dreaming of asking someone to touch their clothing longingly (but she could never!) or Mairéad asking a co-worker if someone like her could ever dare to go to school for costuming (but she could never!), you won’t get much. I was thrilled to reach the end!
Garvey takes us back to 2002 through the eyes of Mairéad, a young Irish woman working as a Costume Department assistant at the fictional St. Leonard theatre in London’s West End. “The Wardrobe Department” is a rich and engaging character study.
Working in the cramped confines of the theatre currently showcasing Chekhov's “Uncle Vanya” , Mairéad struggles to navigate the patronising and predatory attitudes of the cast and crew while also dealing with Oliver, the theatre’s despotic producer.
Feeling out of place, Mairéad perceives a sharp divide between herself and her colleagues. Her contact with family back in Ireland is infrequent, and she consistently tries to brush off her mother’s attempts to reach her. It’s apparent that she came to London to escape something from her past and to seek renewal, yet her loneliness has left her feeling stagnant. Throughout her experience, she often quotes Uncle Vanya, highlighting the parallels to her situation: “𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧? 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘚𝘰𝘯𝘺𝘢, 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸.” It’s a brilliant choice by Garvey to feature a Chekhov play in Mairéad’s theatre. Additionally, she is reading Virginia Woolf’s “Mrs. Dalloway”, further reflecting her struggle with identity and belonging. I particularly enjoyed how Garvey uses these intertextual elements to reflect Mairéad's journey and the dynamics of her working life.
She wants to go back to college to study costume design, but her aspirations are quickly undermined by the wardrobe mistress, who questions her intentions: “𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘰? 𝘋𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦? 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘰𝘣.”
Despite her desire to move forward, the past clings to her, as distant voices of criticism and doubt echo in her mind, intensifying her fears and insecurities.
I enjoyed following Mairéad in and out of her theatre working life, loved reading about her navigations around London, exploring locations like the Wallace Collection, Soho, Bond Street, Oxford Street, and Piccadilly. Even her flat in the outskirts of London – Kingsbury, in Brent, is vividly depicted, bringing the city and her experiences to life.
In the first week of following Mairéad - the story spans from March 28 to April 8 - she is called back to Ireland for her grandmother's funeral. This trip serves as a catalyst for Mairéad to confront her past, where she encounters her contentious parents and we learn of a painful history of abuse that anyone in their right mind would want to escape.
Mairéad is a complex and believable character, and I found her story quite compelling. Garvey has infused each character with rich nuance, bringing them to life. Margaret, the costume department manager, is also a standout character, providing a comforting presence throughout the story.
We start the novel with Uncle Vanya - “𝘐 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘚𝘰𝘯𝘺𝘢’𝘴 ‘𝘞𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵’ 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘦𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘚𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘢’𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦”– and cleverly move towards Noel Coward’s ‘Present Laughter’, this shift not only highlights Mairéad’s evolving relationship with theatre but also serves as a commentary on the self-absorbed nature of the actors and producers she encounters. Bravo Elain Garvey! Exquisetely done! #pudseyrecommends
Thanks to Canongate Books and Netgally for the advance review copy.
As someone who’s spent more hours than I care to count loitering in backstage corridors, breathing in that peculiar blend of hairspray, damp costumes, and adrenaline, Elaine Garvey’s The Wardrobe Department felt like coming home—albeit to a home full of ghosts. I wasn’t sure what to expect from this debut, but what I found was a gorgeously layered exploration of a young woman’s quiet fight to stitch her life back together, both literally and metaphorically.
We follow Mairéad, a young Irish woman working in the wardrobe department of a rather tatty West End theatre in early 2000s London. She’s overworked, underpaid, and more or less invisible to the glitzy crowd out front. But anyone who’s ever worked behind the scenes will recognise her graft immediately: fixing zips mid-show, washing other people’s underwear in backstage sinks, and enduring the casual, grinding sexism that still lingers in too many dark corners of the industry.
What I loved about Garvey’s writing is how unvarnished it is—honest and quietly lyrical without ever slipping into sentimentality. Mairéad’s voice is wry, sharp, and utterly believable. There’s a sort of emotional restraint to the prose that mirrors the way her character holds herself together. But beneath that, there’s a deep well of feeling—grief, longing, self-doubt—all simmering just under the surface. All this is coupled with a wit and charm that really lifts the prose when needed.
The split between London and rural Ireland isn’t just geographic—it’s psychological. Mairéad is caught between two worlds: the cold damp hedgerows of her youth in Leitrim and Donegal, and the rain-soaked pavements of Soho where she’s trying (and mostly failing) to reinvent herself. The theatre setting is incredibly vivid, and Garvey absolutely nails the texture of backstage life—its small triumphs and humiliations, the camaraderie, the exhaustion, the occasional grotesqueness. If you know theatre, you’ll feel the authenticity in every scene.
This is very much a coming-of-age novel, but it’s not about youthful adventure—it’s about the slower, more difficult process of coming to terms with who you are, especially when that person doesn’t look much like who you hoped to become. Mairéad isn’t chasing stardom or romantic resolution. She’s trying to survive in a world that barely acknowledges her, and that quiet resilience is what makes her so compelling.
The emotional content here is subtle but powerful. I found myself aching for Mairéad —not because she’s tragic, but because she’s so real. Garvey doesn’t offer easy catharsis or neat resolutions. Instead, there’s a beautiful honesty in the way the novel explores what it means to carry your past with you, and how heavy—and sometimes necessary—that weight can be.
If you’re a fan of literary fiction that doesn’t shout but sings quietly in the wings, you’ll appreciate this one. And if, like me, you have a soft spot for the backstage world—the scrappy, hidden engine of theatre—you’ll find a lot to love in these pages.
Verdict: For a debut, this is remarkably assured. An evocative debut steeped in stage dust, memory, and quiet resilience. Elaine Garvey is a writer who understands not only the mechanics of storytelling, but the fragile machinery of the human heart.
The Wardrobe Department by Elaine Garvey is a very layered novel. It's the story of a woman who wants to live life the way she feels is right and not what others spell out as right, the story of a person who’s struggling to belong ‘at home’ and away from home. The story of a dysfunctional family, of an alcoholic father who’s mad about race horses and a mother who shuts down difficult questions with either a stony silence or fullthroated roar, of a socially awkward protagonist who is told to fit in by all around her, of modern, urban loneliness - there is a lot that gradually unfurls. A great sense of place, be it London or Ireland where the novel is set, the nitty gritty of working in a wardrobe department in a theatre in London, slapstick British humour make it specific and slightly different from run-of-the-mill coming-of-age story.
Mairéad, the protagonist, is so lonely that she sees a magpie staring at her and wishes to feed it her loneliness in the first few pages of the novel. The novel is divided into three sections, spread out over a span of roughly two weeks. In the first section that's dialogue intensive and hard to get by, Mairéad details her days at work, she irons clothes, mends and sews them, does washing of dirty linen - a pathetic job that she doesn't enjoy but puts up with as it's her passport to time away from home in Donegal, from her parents who just cannot stand each other. Everything feels ill-fitting in her life until a call comes from home stating her Granny passed away of a massive heart attack. The journey back home opens up a few secrets. She keenly explores her equations with her mother, her mother's with her grandmother. The second section set in Ireland (more precisely Northern Ireland, in a town called Leitrim) is the backbone of the book and also its best. As Mairéad who has always been distant with her mother learns about her intimately, a new confidence to tackle the world head on is born in her. The final section sees her back in London after the funeral, and ends on an optimistic note.
The exploration of the relationship between mothers and daughters, all that is shared and remains unsaid between them is what makes the book feel-good. Loneliness in a new city that attempts to alienate or is culturally different and dropping your anchor in such a place while understanding your roots is dealt with well in the novel. The reason why the protagonist got her name is beautiful.
That said, the novel is stretched beyond essential. I really couldn't appreciate the dialogue heavy and the slapstick humor filled portions set in London, this was a dampener. Despite a first person narrative, I couldn't connect with the protagonist. An okay read where the problem lies not in ‘how much is tackled’ but in how it is. The Wardrobe Department could have left an impact had it been shorter and been more of show than tell.
Thank you Canon gate books and Netgalley for the copy.
Thanks to NetGalley and Canongate for the advanced copy of this title in return for an honest review.
I generally don't actively ask for copies of books but I did with this one because it sounded so interesting and all the reviews I had seen of it were positive so I had high hopes. But it didn't hit all those high hopes.
It flits from London to Ireland and back. I'm a big fan of multiple POVs and multiple timelines and locations etc. But even for those who usually struggle, I think it works really well here and you will barely notice it, because it's not too much to be overwhelming.
I liked reading about Mairéad. She wasn't perfect, far from it, she was struggling and felt a bit lost, but she embodied the story. I'm not sure I know what I mean by that, but it's the best way to describe her. I really enjoyed following her story. There isn't a huge cast of characters but we do manage to get the heroes and villains dynamics, very much about power struggles between Mairéad and her parents, Mairéad and her boss, the "help" and the "stars".
It starts in London then goes to Ireland and back to London. Across the three sections it only really covers a few days in March and April 2002, but there's a lot in there over such a short time span.
I definitely think this book is stronger once it's set in Ireland. It's like this is where Elaine is more comfortable and seems more assured of her voice. The London chapters, whilst interesting, were quite...I don't know how to put it. A bit "oh worries me", quite insular, apologising, not speaking up - how I would describe as a "wet weekend".
It does feel like two different stories. The London scenes were interesting if quite dull, but the Irish scenes are more intense and passionate and exciting to read.
It is set in the early 2000s and yet it reads like a story of a long time ago. It had this classical feel to it, and I couldn't link it to the time era it was meant to be in. It sort of transcends it's setting.
Not much actually happens. That's not necessarily a negative, just an observation. It is a very, very character heavy book, which I prefer over plot. But if you're someone who needs something to happen, something to get your teeth into, then you might find this one a struggle.
I must say, I am glad it is quite short, because I think it would have been difficult to sustain the little plot there is for much longer.
It didn't quite live up to my expectations, yet I did enjoy it and it had a lot of positives. If I'm honest, I couldn't really tell you what it was about, there isn't some big event or big plot point, it just sort of meandered along, but I do know I enjoyed reading it.
Mairéad hails from Ireland and now finds herself in the early 2000s in London, working in the St Leonard’s theatre in the heart of the West End. She is employed as a dresser in the wardrobe department, dealing with the garment detritus that requires mending and cleaning after every performance. Currently the characters from Uncle Vanya are exercising her patience, whilst she also has to fend off the more annoying members of the theatre crew.
Cleaning and repairing clothes that are steeped in dirt and the fetid stains of bodily fluids and odours is a far cry from the glamorous job it might seem. But somehow she gets through her days.
She has the potential and position to make something of herself now, yet she is stuck in her groove of low self esteem and struggles to find an equilibrium amongst her new colleagues. It feels like the story of the country mouse and the town mouse and she struggles to get to grips with the opportunity of being in London. The echoes of her life in Ireland still haunt her, her mother is clearly still short on bonhomie and positive words, yet she is drawn to go back to her home in Donegal. There she is swamped again, this time by death, and yet she feels she doesn’t really fit in there either, now that she has her star-studded life in the English capital….
London in particular comes to life in this well written story, as Mairéad makes her way around the city. There are plenty of landmarks that firmly set the narrative in time and place. It is also really interesting to discover the backroom work that goes on day-in and day-out to keep a show on the road, as it were.
For me, however, there was a grey wash over the story that somehow dulled my reading experience. Mairéad wasn’t a stand-out character for whom I rooted, she felt like such a toned down soul and so it probably won’t be a novel that will linger for very long.
Elaine Garvey's "The Wardrobe Department" tells the story of Mairéad--a woman who works in the wardrobe department of a London theatre. She's a bit rudderless and unsure of what she wants to do. She comes from Ireland, and she lives a short of ghostly existence, barely present in her day-to-day life. Through her interactions with people in the theatre, we see how she constantly has to manoeuvre the disparate personalities that make up a theatrical production.
The book then shifts to Ireland where Mairéad returns for a funeral. Here, family tensions boil over, and longstanding truths are finally revealed. When Mairéad returns home, we see why she does not actively engage with the people around her when she's working in London. She's developed passivity into an artful defence mechanism.
Garvey has a clear eye for what transpires behind the scenes in the theatre, and she creates vivid portraits of these theatrical types. Even those of us with minimal knowledge of the theatre will recognise many of the types she writes about here. Garvey has a keen eye for the offbeat bit of dialogue or the revealing part of someone's personality. These parts of the novel are my favourite passages in this short novel.
The novel is let down by two things. The Irish funeral section feels too familiar, and less developed. The characters in the Irish funeral section are not as sharply realised. The novel also has too many characters in both sections, so it's often hard to remember who is who and how they are connected to Mairéad. This makes reading the novel a bit frustrating at times because there are just so many relationships to keep track of, and I think the novel could have been longer so that the reader could have spent time with Mairéad and her professional and family lives. With that said, it's always a good sign when you want a novel to be longer not shorter.