Una cautivadora novela que no debes perderte y que ha sido nominada al premio Discoveries del Women's Prize. Una exploración de la familia, del luto, de la identidad queer y del legado de la iglesia católica en Irlanda.
«¿Os lo imagináis? —les diría—. ¿Me imagináis allí, en la plaza de San Pedro, en primera fila? A la hermana lesbiana de un santo, literalmente».
Jay, que se crio en una devota familia irlandesa, vive ahora en Londres con su novia, decidida a atrapar el presente y a no pensar demasiado ni en el futuro ni en el pasado. Pero cuando se entera de que su querido hermano mayor, que murió en un horrible accidente, podría convertirse en un santo católico, se da cuenta de que debe enfrentarse por fin a su familia, a su infancia y a sí misma.
Inspirado por la educación religiosa de la propia autora, Santos como nosotros es el brillante debut de una voz nueva, fresca y emocionante que pregunta: ¿quién decide cómo se nos recuerda, y en qué nos convertiremos?
Ordinary Saints is the best book I’ve read so far this year. Multiple times while reading it, I declared to anyone in my family who’d listen (!), “this book is absolutely brilliant”.
The author perfectly encapsulates the absurdities and peculiarities of Irish Catholicism, from the veneration of saints to the unspoken, buried traumas - all of it wrapped up in clear-eyed, precise prose and a fascinating, gently provocative and compelling story.
Jay (Jacinta) is a queer Irish woman building a life for herself in London when word comes through from her family at home in Ireland that her late brother Ferdia may be made into a Catholic saint.
In a first person narrative that moves fluidly from present to past and back again, the reader gets to know Jay and Jay’s family in all of their complexity and simplicity. Relationships, beliefs and uncomfortable truths sit side by side and are handled with nuance and sensitivity, and for me, a grimy layer is gently pulled away to expose the totally mad paradox that is Irish Catholicism. You could write a thesis on it, but why would you when you could just read Niamh’s brilliant book instead?
This is Ní Mhaoileoin’s debut novel. She was shortlisted for the Women’s Prize Discoveries Award and awarded the PFD Queer Fiction Prize in 2022. She has a hugely bright figure ahead of her and this deserves to be a bestseller read by book clubs everywhere. Loved it. 5/5⭐️
*Huge thanks to @bonnierbooks_uk @gillhessltd for sending me an advance #gifted copy. Ordinary Saints will be published this week (25 April) but is likely already widely available in Irish bookshops!
Truly exceptional. The way this novel moves is like a dream, amazing plotting, emotional payoffs and such beautifully complex relationships. It's hilarious and still manages to pack emotional gut punches that left me winded every few chapters.
If Jay has zero haters then I’m dead…I hate to say it but she was the most insufferable character I have ever had the displeasure of reading about, especially being inside her head for 348 pages. I am a lesbian ex-Catholic, so I went into this genuinely believing this would be a 5 star read. The concept was, in theory, everything I should love in literary fiction. But the execution did not live up to the hype. The writing style didn’t move me at all – I found the majority of the interactions stale and boring and above all I just absolutely hated Jay and did not agree with 90% of her decisions. And listen, I know how complicated religious trauma and grief can be, but I still couldn’t justify Jay’s actions, and most of all she was just ANNOYING! What do you mean you’re blaming your Dad for NOT outing you to your entire Catholic family?
There were a few good lines about the Church that were relatable, and it picked up towards the end, but this was such a disappointing read for me, especially after seeing all of the 5 star reviews. I’m not sure I got the same copy as everyone else.
“Can you imagine it? Can you imagine me there in the front row in Saint Peter’s Square? The lesbian sister of a literal saint.”
This is perhaps the easiest five star review I have ever given. If this is Niamh Ni Mhaoileoin’s debut, I can only imagine what we will see from her in years to come. Mhaoileoin is a force to be reckoned with, and Ordinary Saints rocked me to my core. This is a book brimming with grief, love, sacrifice, hope, and the unthinkable reality of questioning everything that you had previously thought to be true. It is no surprise that Mhaoileoin won the PFD Queer Fiction Prize for this powerful, unflinching and wholly life changing book. Thank you so much to Bonnier Books for my advance copy!
The back story of me picking up this book…. I was in Dublin with my childhood best friend, Tara and our husbands. I happened to see a bookstore, Books Upstairs. Tara and I tell our husband we are going to pop in. Upon entering the store, it was quite noisy and the owner of the bookstore said there was a new, up and coming author. We bought three of her books and the author was kind enough to sign them and introduce herself to us. Niamh was so lovely. What a grand memory……
Finally, at the end of the year. I am reading the book. Now a queer book would not of been something I would normally pick up; but I adored the bones of this book. Absolutely amazing.
Jay, a lesbian, young woman finds out her brother, who died in his early 20s is going to be canonised and made a saint. Jay struggles with the Catholic Church and its intolerance of gay couples. Her parents, who are strong Catholics struggle with Jay’s choices. The drama and fall out are momentous. Jay loves her brother Ferdia, and although he was well on his way to being a priest in Rome when he died, to canonise him feels like she is losing her brother to the Church.
This was truly amazing because it begs the questions? Why should someone feel more comfortable and accepted around gay friends and not feel welcomed in church, where God should be the mainstay. The actions of the church can cause people to lose their faith. Sad indeed.
Interesting stuff and lots to discuss. There are great bookclub questions in the back of the book.
This was the author’s debut book and I will definitely be looking out for future releases from her. 🥂 Slainte!
*2.5* The first half of this novel is weak, full of repetitive anecdotes meant to illustrate the protag’s childhood trauma and therefore her reasoning against her late brother’s beatification.
The second half improves, finally adding some emotional depth to the characters and attempting some growth. This would have been much more effective if the characters were properly understood in the first half.
Unfortunately I found the writing quality to be poor, with cringeworthy sentences and weak characterization. None of the characters felt like real people and the dialogue was stilted and often strange. Overall, I think this is a case of significant under-editing and reminds me of other recent novels (e.g. Butter, List of Suspicious Things) that had similar issues.
Definitely my favourite book of the year, maybe my favourite book full stop 🫣 a challenging and sometimes uncomfortable portrayal of grief, family, sexuality and religion. The writing is perfect. The flow and pacing are perfect. The characters are layered and funny and the dynamics between them are fascinating. It’s just perfect! 11/10!!
This book explores some of the important things, such as sexual identity, sibling relationships, family issues, the Catholic Church, and grief. The themes seem familiar, but it felt like I'd never read something like this before because of how uniquely the author explores them. It was clearly written with purpose. One thing I love about this book is its exploration of grief. It shows that grief becomes easier over time, yet it can still hit hard. It beautifully illustrates that even years later, the act of missing and loving someone you'll never see again can remain deeply devastating. The author also didn't go easy on the Catholic Church or the way religion operates within families and communities, but she approached it with consideration. The main character's conflict with the church growing up was handled sensitively and with respect. The most compelling part of the story for me was Jay's personal journey. I loved watching her confront her past, navigate her family relationships, and define the person she wanted to be. She's a character full of emotions. it's a gorgeous story, overall.
I’ve been trying to shake a reading slump this week, and this book was a solid attempt to do it.
The story follows Jay, a queer woman raised in a devout Catholic household in Ireland, who finds out years after her brother’s accidental death that he might be put forward for sainthood. That news pulls her right back into the messiness of her grief, family bonds, and her complicated feelings about faith.
I thought the book handled the religious themes with a lot of honesty, acknowledging the trauma and violence the church has caused, while still showing how someone you love might remain part of it, a distinction I haven't seen explored in the books I normally read. Jay’s reflections on faith and her place within it really resonated, especially as someone who grew up Catholic too.
The audiobook was excellent, the pacing worked, and Jay’s relationship with her mother felt painfully raw.
I’d recommend this to anyone interested in contemporary fiction about queerness, faith, and complex mother/daughter relationships.
Jay had insufferable moments and the plot was a bit thin. But as someone with an Irish-Catholic upbringing, I found it an interesting device through which to examine familial and societal trauma.
I read Ordinary Saints earlier in the month and I still find myself thinking about it. It’s also the author’s debut novel, which is a startling realisation when you know just how good it is.
Jay (Jacinta) has escaped her devout Catholic home in Ireland and now lives with her girlfriend in London, determined not to engage with the memories of her beloved brother’s death when she was just a teenager. Ferdia was a priest in training when a tragic accident took his life, and left his family bereft. Now, it seems that Jay & Ferdia’s parents have begun the process to have their son made into a Catholic Saint, something Jay finds abhorrent.
“Can you imagine it? Can you imagine me there in the front row in St Peter’s Square? The lesbian sister of a literal saint”
Finally accepting that this is happening, Jay must at last come to terms with her own childhood, her family, and how her upbringing has affected every subsequent relationship she has had.
There’s a lot going on here; complex relationships, the oppressive nature of organised religion (but the Catholic Church in particular), and how that intersects with societal acceptance and attitudes towards homosexuality and modern life.
It sounds bleak, and my heart did break for Jay more than once, but there’s also a lot of hope in here. The ending made me cry in a good way.
I can’t think of the last time I read a book that explored such substantial topics as grief, faith, and personal/familial identity as well as this book does, but with an emotional depth to the forefront at all times.
An incredibly thought provoking read: recommend!
With many thanks to the publishers for my copy. #OrdinarySaints is available to buy now. All opinions are my own, as always.
I feel lucky to have read an advanced copy of this gorgeous novel. It really has everything you want. Expertly plotted and paced and a joy to read. A cast of loveable characters. Heartbreaking family drama and queer joy. And I learned so much about canonisation! Love love love love.
4.5 I really liked this one. It's thoughtful and well-written. The way it explores identity, grief, and faith was actually pretty moving. It's a solid debut novel, definitely worth the read.
Este libro es una contradicción maravillosa. Jay es una lesbiana que crece en una familia católica y muy practicante. Y si ya solo con esto la historia promete, hay que añadir que Jay tiene un hermano (Ferdia) que quiere convertirse en sacerdote. Como resultado de su disposición, el mayor se lleva toda la atención de los padres, dejando a Jay en un segundo plano.
Ferdia se muda a Roma para estudiar teología y allí, tras un trágico accidente, muere. Esto precipita a la familia a un agujero negro del que no consiguen salir nunca. Jay se separa de sus padres, tras haber perdido todo lo que les unía y se muda a Londres. No quiere saber nada de ellos.
Mientras tanto los padres consideran que la memoria de Ferdia no puede morir con su padecimiento y comienzan un proceso de canonización para convertir a su hijo en un santo de la religión cristiana.
Jay no se toma nada bien esta decisión y le genera constantes dudas acerca de la relación con sus padres, con la religión, con el amor y con su hermano fallecido. El libro desvela una encruzijada entre la religión y la identidad queer, entre la vida y la muerte, entre el abandono y la compañía.
Lo que más me llevo de este relato es, aparte del argumento tan interesante, la reflexión acerca de si todo es válido cuando se habla de la fe. De cúanto estamos dispuestos a dar de nosotros mismos a los demás. De la dignidad de la muerte, de cómo cada persona tiene su propio duelo. De compartir, de querer y de conversar.
I really enjoyed this! It's a moving literary fiction novel about an Irish lesbian who discovers that her deceased priest brother is going to be turned into a saint. During the process, she has to relive her childhood memories, deal with the grief of losing her brother, and examine her complicated relationships with her family and the Catholic Church.
I've read a lot of novels about queer people and Catholicism, but I think this is the best one by far, because it genuinely looks at it from various angles. Jay's and her family's feelings evolve over time. There is some tension and misunderstandings between them, but the truth is that they love each other and learn how to coexist and try. This novel isn't perfect; I think the final quarter had too many timeskips and I would have appreciated if it lingered more on the denouement after all the dust had settled. It is also a very straightforward book, maybe even heavy-handed at times. But it was cozy and moving, and some lines really struck me as words that I needed to hear. I think it helps that Jay, unlike the protagonists of other novels about queer people and Catholicism, is a woman in her thirties. She too is flawed, of course, and some of the misunderstandings are because she's stubborn. But with her age comes maturity. In the end, what matters most is that you spend time with your loved ones while they remain on this earth. A very solid debut.
Who owns your legacy after death? What pieces of your self go on preserved, retold, spun out and expanded on - what truths become half-truths, twisted memories and proselytizations? What tragedy is it, that in death, you take with you all that was of your future, and leave behind only a misty remnant of your past.
Ordinary Saints is a meditation on these very heavy concepts, told in a black humoured and often soap-operatic kind of way. Unfortunately, while the premise of the book seemed very interesting... the execution left little impression on me. I believe this might be a matter more of taste than of authorial skill (this was a highly praised book at my bookclub and from the discussions I came to understand why - even if it could not retrospectively hit me emotionally - I definitely appreciate it more on a technical level.)
This is a book about miscommunication and conflict that goes buried rather than spoken. Characters have outbursts of emotion that they use as reason to simply exit conversations or relationships altogether. Growth happens rapidly and suddenly, and tidy easy resolutions are not something we are served up on a silver platter. In this way, there are elements that feel startlingly real despite the somewhat outlandish premise. Much can be understood by what ISN'T said, in a way that reflects the secretive and stifling power of the church and its keenness to suppress elements of the self.
Nevertheless, I wish certain characters and relationships had been more fully developed. I was left somewhat baffled by the time-skip ending, the sudden shifting focus towards Jay's mother that felt as though it was an emotional note that should have driven home that so much of the book really was about their relationship. I'm not sure why, but I just never fully resonated or connected with Jay's emotional state (despite my own connections with - albeit not religious trauma - but difficulties with my parents of a certain generation and outlook that result in few feelings shared and a sense of more obligation and performance.)
Jay's sometimes dissociated and conflict-averse / conflict-driving oscillating narrative was very appropriate for the thematic underpinnings of the novel, but I nevertheless wish we'd had more direct conflicts towards the climax of the book. Not necessarily looking for Hallmark-grade payoffs, but I felt like this was building and building towards something that paid off somewhat off-screen. Again, on a technical, thematic level - this makes sense. We only receive pieces of Ferdia, slices of who he was at one time to one person or another, incapable of growth except in shifting memories. Jay, and her mother's, changes follow through in this sense. But, in terms of the reading experience, I was really quite bored much of the time and feeling myself compelled to skip through pages (which is a somewhat rare feeling for me.)
So, sadly, I'm giving this three stars with the acknowledgement that I might come back and revist this sometime and may connect with it on an entirely different emotional level.
Right from the start, Ordinary Saints grips you by the collar and doesn’t let go. Niamh Ní Mhaoileoin’s debut is rare: tender, sharp, rooted yet wide-reaching, a novel that hums with grief and grace. An outstanding book that deserves all the praise it’s been gathering and more.
Set between London and Ireland, the story follows Jacinta (known as Jay), a lesbian woman estranged from her devout Catholic family, grappling with the news that her late brother Ferdia, who was known as the “little saint” since childhood, then headed off to the seminary but sadly died in an accident, might be canonised.
Ní Mhaoileoin, inspired by the case of Carlo Acutis, the Italian teenager being heralded as the first “millennial saint.” has taken that spark of reality and breathed something quietly explosive into it.
This isn’t just a book about religion or sainthood. It’s about who gets to tell our stories. It’s about the weight of memory, especially when someone dies young and the people left behind mould them into something perfect, something almost unrecognisable. Jay’s struggle to reconcile her love for her brother with the mythologising of him by her family and the Church is devastating and beautifully drawn. It asks, with painful clarity, what happens when institutions co-opt grief? And who do we become in the process?
Jay is one of the most compelling narrators I’ve come across in a long time. Fierce and flawed, she wears her vulnerability like armour. Her relationship with her girlfriend, her complex love-hate bond with her family, and the slow unfurling of her inner world are rendered with a quiet intimacy that makes you feel like you’re living in her skin. This is about what it means to be human and how, sometimes, that’s miracle enough.
At around 400 pages, this luminous, layered, and profoundly affecting read is impossible to put down. Ní Mhaoileoin is one to watch!
Thank you to the publisher for the opportunity to read via NetGalley; as always, this is an honest review.
3.5 was surprised to discover that canonisation was still a thing in the Catholic Church. I liked this book and occasional moments were very poignant with some great writing. For me, the book as a whole dragged a little bit I still found it moving and thoroughly enjoyed her descriptions of everyday life in London.
An absolute masterpiece! It’s quiet revelations and observations are so perfectly placed within the story. The characters made me feel every emotion possible. I think it might be one of the best books ever, and I stopped at the end of every chapter to say that out loud.
I expected to like this more than I did but I still liked it plenty. It was tonally different from what I had expected (I thought I would get more whimsy, something funnier, because of the colours on the cover) which made it slow going for the first few chapters. It's more filled with ambiguity and bitterness and uncomfortable silences than I anticipated and its humanity made me feel genuinely uncomfortable before I, like the main character, was willing to unclench and really feel for all the characters.
Jacinta, our protagonist, was extremely realistic. Too realistic. Embarrassingly, I found myself actually annoyed by her, but she also sounds completely like my friends and myself. So much so that I often nearly forgot that she was Irish until she interacted with someone of a different generation, which is how it goes nowadays, I guess. We all sound the same. The prose is less poetic, less interesting than I wanted, I felt that I could always see the seams in it, but it also sounded like how Jacinta would, no literary veneer over it. I think I might hate realism.
I remember looking at tweets about the canonization of Carlo Acutis and seeing how many people, especially non-Catholics, were upset at learning about how the whole thing happened, how relics are treated, the whole spectacle of it. I had no particular attachment to the whole thing and just thought, well, we are very disconnected from death now and besides, I am not religious so why should I care? But Ordinary Saints really put into perspective the anger of it to me. It's a very strange thing and very potent. There's so much to idea of canonization that this book covers but not with the depth and wide ranging-ness that it could have. It would be too different if it did that. The book wraps up well as it is, but I still feel like this was not everything it could have been, which is an entirely unfair assessment.
It's kind of a messy book, not entirely satisfying or edifying, it made me cry, I got a few chuckles, I found myself frustrated by the turns the book took, I could have done without certain scenes and wished so much was elaborated upon, but I also think all that is intentional, it reflects the exact thing the book wanted to convey. It’s like life. But I don't feel good after reading it. Which is fine.
This is a very unique book. The description sounds a bit disjointed and perhaps slightly bizarre. When I've explained the plot to people, they have looked at me very quizzically and slightly afraid, but this book is genuinely one of the most emotionally complex books I've read in a while.
I can't fully convey the depth to which this book resonated with me. Although simple in its description, its impact was enormous. I could feel everything the main character was going through so viscerally that I would have to take a breath and remind myself where I was each time I put the book down. Although I have not experienced a loss similar to that of a sibling or what it is like to feel like your sexuality is rejected, the carnal feelings of anger and frustration were so well expressed that I couldn't help but empathise.
Also, having grown up Catholic, I could relate deeply to various events and conflicts related to the church and vividly picture all the services and masses. The religious nostalgia explored in the book was yet another way I empathised.
The only reason I don't give it 5 stars is that I do think it was a bit too heavy. I think the main character was too invested in maintaining anger and sadness that it felt like you were drowning, making it sometimes a bit difficult to carry on.
This book has somehow made me, the most nihilistic person to ever live, feel like there may be hope and meaning in life
Life really is so short and neither you nor the people you love will be around forever, we all make mistakes and we'll all die
Everyone's been through shit that's shaped them and made them the person they are today, but we're constantly evolving and changing. You're not the person you were 10 years ago, and in another 10 years the person you are now will be a distant memory. Not everything's been good or easy and there are still many challenges ahead, but the fact we've all made it this far is a gift in itself
Bad things happen but it's still possible to heal, be at peace and live a great life despite everything, even if we are only insignificant blips in the universe
A book I randomly picked up at the hotel after breakfast. An intriguing look into family trauma, religion, and sexuality. I can't say I previously had much knowledge about Irish Catholicism.
so incredibly sweet, a very beautiful exploration of grief and love and family. maybe not groundbreaking in terms of writing, but enough for me to give it five stars.
i loooooved this so much ! made me melancholy for the sibling love i never had 🥹 enjoyed the character developments and tense family dynamics, the journeys they all went on, everyone’s individual relationship to religion and the importance of not sweeping things under the rug - v v interesting !!
honourable mention to laurie for the recommendation x
I’m a sucker for a study of a sibling relationship 🙂↔️ This book actually put me in a bad mood at times because it hit home so hard but it’s an incredible story and I can’t wait to see what else this author comes out with