A new, genre–defying volume that explores family, marriage, motherhood, place, and coming of age with singular wit and emotional clarity.
What can we learn from an ordinary life observed with extraordinary skill? In The Irish Goodbye, Beth Ann Fennelly writes of the small moments that shape a life, whether moving or perplexing or troubling or gladdening, in the process dignifying the diminutive through the act of attention. Fennelly explores her roles as a friend, wife, mother, and daughter, documenting a brush with an old flame or the devastating death of her sister in crystalline, precise sentences.
The longer essays concern Fennelly’s relationships—with a beloved mother-in-law, a decades-long friendship between five former college roommates, an artist who paints a series of nude portraits in Fennelly’s town, for which she poses. Interspersed between these longer memoirs are sections of flash nonfiction, a form Fennelly innovated in the genre-defying Heating & Cooling. With dazzling verve and wit, they capture the interstitial interactions—encounters with strangers, quirky observations, unexpected flights of fancy—that make up a richly lived life.
The Irish Goodbye offers a rare intimacy. With emotional clarity and nimble prose, Fennelly invites readers to share her affirming worldview—one in which even our smallest interactions are rife with possibility.
I’ve also read Fennelly’s previous collection of miniature autobiographical essays, Heating & Cooling. She takes the same approach as in flash fiction: some of these 45 pieces are as short as one sentence, remarking on life’s irony, poignancy or brevity. Again and again she loops back to her sister’s untimely death (the title reference: “without farewells, you slipped out the back door of the party of your life”); other major topics are her mother’s worsening dementia, her happy marriage, her continuing 28-year-old friendships with her college roommates, the pandemic, and her ageing body. Every so often, Fennelly experiments with third- or second-person narration, as when she recalls making a perfect gin and tonic for Tim O’Brien. One of the most in-depth pieces revisits a lonely stint teaching in Czechoslovakia in the early 1990s. Returning to the town recently, she is astounded that so many recognize her and that a time she experienced as bleak is the stuff of others’ fond memories. I also loved the long piece that closes the collection, “Dear Viewer of My Naked Body,” about being one of the 12 people in Oxford, Mississippi to pose nude for a painter in oils. Brilliant last phrase: “Enjoy the bunions.”
This will be on my list for favorite reads of the year. Beth Ann Fennelly processes her life, especially her loss of her only sister, through (mostly) tiny essays, sometimes written as little poems, sometimes as short essays. These micro-memoirs are steeped in wisdom and you will not walk away from them without carrying away a lot of that brilliance on your fingers and toes.
These “micro-memoirs,” as Fennelly coins them, are a true roller coaster of emotions: moving from the loss of her sister, to the mental decline of her mother, to the steady, grounding love of her husband, to the friendships she shared with “The Roomies” in college into adulthood (which was probably my favorite piece), and even to the quiet beauty tucked inside ordinary things like folded oven mitts. Each memoir is brief, but none of them feel small; she manages to capture entire seasons of life in just a few pages. I especially admired how seamlessly she shifts from heartbreak to humor, from grief to gratitude, often within the same piece; there’s something so intimate about it.
I read Heating + Cooling a couple years ago and knew immediately I'd read anything Fennelly offered us so this book was automatically put at the top of my TBR!
The Irish Goodbye is a collection of "micro-memoirs", some as short as a sentence, others several pages; sharing defining moments from her life. Marriage, friendship, losing her only sister, and slowly losing her mom to Alzheimer's are topics she returns to throughout. They do their job eloquently; brief and bold, cutting to the bone.
I picked up this audiobook for Reading Ireland month, only to realize that it didn't fit being set in Ireland or by an Irish Author. I still enjoyed these essays though. In The Irish Goodbye, Beth Ann Fennelly writes of the often–overlooked moments that shape a life, whether moving, perplexing, troubling or gladdening. These micro-memoirs/essays vary in length from a couple of sentences to several paragraphs. She explores her roles as a friend, wife, mother, and daughter. Some are humorous, some touching and some very emotional such as the death of her sister.
This book is made up of what is come to be known as "flash fiction". There are 45 entries in this book, of varying lengths. Some of the topics include her mother's dementia, her marriage, friendships she's had for years, meeting up with an old flame, a stint teaching in Czechoslavakia and visiting there many years later and more. Throughout the book, there is mention of her sister that she lost, the subject behind the title. She has led an interesting life, but also highlighted the everyday minutiae that is often taken for granted. she narrated her own book, which I like as she knows when to add intonation and expression to the story.
3.75// This is my first book by this author, and these are essentially a memoir in essays/poetry. The focal point is Beth Ann Fennelly grieving over the death of her sister, yet she tells stories from a variety of points in her life that deal with her career, marriage, motherhood, family members, aging parents, friendship, etc. Overall, the writing was kind of bizarre but it still worked in the end (?) Many essays would start out in a bizarre way, but I could see the point she was making by the end. Some sections are very short - I’m guessing they were poems, but it’s hard to tell from the audiobook - and I generally enjoyed the longer essays more than the short ones. The author narrates, and I don’t know if I loved her narration. The cadence was pretty slow and uneven, and it almost had me wonder if this was a book of poetry, or if there were structural things she did that she was trying to portray with her voice. There are some structural peculiarities, such as each line starting with the same word like “Say” or “You”, which I think would have been better to read in print. The audiobook does have a bonus chapter which is a wild story, and it makes sense why it wasn’t published in print. Overall, I think I would have enjoyed reading these in print rather than listening to them.
Thanks to WW Norton & Company, Recorded Books, and NetGalley for the Advance Listeners’ Copy.
This book is fantastic! So unique and thought provoking. I laughed, my heart ached and I have been reading excerpts non-stop to people for the entirety of this last week (the book is a fast read).
Beth Ann Fennelly knows how to write! She has introduced me to the power of conveying a thought, feeling, moment, lifetime in a single sentence or paragraph.
I will be buying this book for others and sharing it with my family. I can't wait to read more of her work.
Great representation of human experience in bite size storytelling that creates a larger picture. Master class in the gut punch. Relatable, and important. Bravo!
I enjoyed Heating and Cooling, Beth Ann Fennelly’s earlier collection of micro-memoirs, but I loved The Irish Goodbye more. Perfect marriage of form and content—both polished and raw, succinct and expansive.
What a fantastic book. The author is an exceptional writer. I already want to re-read. So easy to pick up, read for 5 minutes then put down and come back to seamlessly.
And side note- just watched the documentary mentioned in the last chapter (My Indiana Muse), and it was also incredible.
Love when good reads point to more good reads/art/content!
Wowww this book is so amazing. Vulnerable, funny, raw. One moment I’m laughing, the next I’m holding back tears. This book really touched me with my own problems with my sister. While short, the prose is packed with humanity. It feels real. I’m so grateful I was able to receive this copy and have it signed by the author herself
While at a cute indie bookstore in St. George (shout out to The Book Bungalow), I purchased a box set of popular books for my daughter’s 18th birthday. Because of that, I was offered my choice from a bookshelf of advance reader copies not yet released to the public. I chose wisely. I’ve always said that memoirs are my favorite genre, but I think “micro-memoirs” are the best…short, disjointed life insights that I can easily dive into and then put down for weeks. Thoroughly enjoyed this one.
A very touching book! I think Fennelly perfectly balances humor and heartache in her micro-memoirs. She brings her experiences to life while still being concise, which is so inspiring and impressive. Fantastic read!
I enjoyed this structure, some essays were as short as a sentence or read like a poem, others were full length stories. My favorite moments were the ones that dealt with Fennelly's grief and history with alzheimer's.
Reading this book was like sitting at the kitchen table with the author and letting her tell you many of the experiences of her life. The tea pot was always full and I never tired of the stories.
What is it about me and books on planes after AWP?? Hearing Beth Ann on npr then getting to hug her neck in a crowded room with 9,998 of our closest mutual friends, then flying out west the next morning and reading these tight little whispery shouty windows into her life - the parts like mine, where she lived in Prague, where no matter how much she loves her husband, she doesn't let him off the hook for his Pictionary claims; where she poses nude (yes, dear goodreads readers of my reviews, I've done it too), where she reunites with the women who make her laugh til she 'bout busts something - and the parts not like mine, thankfully, mercifully not like mine, because my sister is still alive, well, all that makes me get in a way unable to stop crying at the part, well, just read the book and find your own part you can't stop crying at.
Of the genres that I will read (eg, not new age self help, religious thrillers, romantasy, or good ol’ Jimmy Patterson), memoir is the lowest on the list I will reach for, normally. Especially as a first book from someone. It’s usually reserved for the likes of Keith Richards, or filmmakers nearing the end of their lives. So, a poet somewhere in the middle of her life doesn’t seem like something I would gravitate towards, but the buzz monster grabbed me and took me.
So, I went into this book almost blind, and going into this book blind I wasn’t exactly sure what a micro-memoir was going to be. Essays? Meditations? Brain droppings? Journal entries? Am I going to be reading someone’s LiveJournal? Well, it turned out to be all of that and something different, too: something occasionally small in stature, but deep in emotion; something encompassing all the modes of memoir, ranging from just a couple of words to a few thousand.
In it, Fennelly touches on the death of her sister, her mom’s drift into Alzheimer’s, growing apart from friends, the state of her body, and the time, in the early 90s, when everyone in Poland hated her American guts.
They’re funny, personal, raw, sad, revealing, clearly written by the hand of a poet though there are no poems in the book. The memoirs start out cagey, teasing, almost too vague, especially about her sister. It’s at this point in the book where she doesn’t yet trust us, hasn’t gotten to know us, and is not yet comfortable with us. As she grows into comfort, she slowly becomes unguarded and lays it all out, spills her guts: the dark, the keys to the inside jokes, the messy feelings and the ugly thoughts that crop up, even a decade since her sister’s death. By the end, we find ourselves there with her, now comfortable with us, posing nude for a portrait in the sharp, unflattering Mississippi sun. She’s feeling a bit of nerves, but there's no shame to be found, nor should there be.