We Are Not in the World

by Conor O'Callaghan

'Stylish, deft...an absolutely fascinating novel' Guardian

'Haunting, mesmerising, and so deeply intelligent' Kamila Shamsie, author of Women's Prize for Fiction winning Home Fire

'Powerful...compelling and profoundly moving' Irish Times

'Heartbreaking, sweetly logical and tentatively hopeful' Spectator

Heartbroken after a long, painful love affair, a man drives a haulage lorry from England to France. Travelling with him is a secret passenger - his daughter. Twenty-something, unkempt, off the rails.

With a week on the road together, father and daughter must restore themselves and each other, and repair a relationship that is at once fiercely loving and deeply scarred.

As they journey south, down the motorways, through the service stations, a devastating picture reveals itself: a story of grief, of shame, and of love in all its complex, dark and glorious manifestations.
______________

What readers are saying:
***** 'The prose is sublime and deeply moving . . . a stunning novel'
***** 'Beautifully written, lyrical and unsettling in its exploration of human frailties, family, love, and loss, grief'
**** 'A haunting, tragic and highly original story of a father and daughter travelling across England and France in a haulage truck, and discovering more about their relationship and past in all its raw candour'


MORE PRAISE FOR WE ARE NOT IN THE WORLD:
'Unusual, utterly original and mysterious . . . a must read' Elaine Feeney
'...the book stays with you, a haunting presence you cannot - and do not want to - escape...astounding.' Ruth Gilligan Extraordinary...achingly sad and tender and sexy, and the writing is very beautiful.' Louise Kennedy
'Wonderful, wrenching . . . full of enormous feelings very precisely rendered' Sara Baume
'Elusive, unsettling, beautiful, haunting. This is a complex, devastating study of human relations; a portrait of intense love and damage in equal measure.' Lisa Harding
'A whirlpool of memories, regrets and hopes' Tim Pears
'An uncanny ability to turn the seemingly insignificant into something monumental' Jan Carson

Genres: Fiction, Novels, Ireland, Contemporary, Irish Literature, Literary Fiction, Family Drama

276 pages, Hardcover

Published April 30, 2020

Reviews

[Paromjit · Rating 5 out of 5]

Conor O'Callaghan's quintessentially Irish piece of literary fiction is beautifully written, lyrical and unsettling in its exploration of human frailties, family, love, loss, grief, regrets, emotional heartbreak and ghosts. Paddy has grown up in Ireland, and has acquired a haulage truck from a dying Howard, driving from England to France, embarking on a road trip, smuggling his daughter, Kitty, named after his mother, on board. Divorced, with a recent love affair with a married woman that has come to a dead end, Paddy's mother has been dead for 3 years. He has picked up Kitty from a Dublin hospital, after an estrangement, the two are looking to rebuild their broken relationship on their trip through France. With her shaved head, her plastic wrist tag and stolen mink coat, the fragile and troubled Kitty is painfully thin, the fierce love between her and Paddy shines through amidst the emotional scars of bitterness, their niggles with each other, and their fears and insecurities.

The narrative meanders through the nooks and crannies of Paddy's past life, his childhood, his core relationship with his mother, through their oedipal years, his distant relationship with Art, the Godfather and his brother, resentful of his strong relationship with his daughter, the lack of welcome to be found at home and Ireland, his affair with his married lover, he is gripped and haunted by a homesickness that never leaves him, with its metaphorical echoes of the Irish folktale of Tir na nOg. Happiness comes and goes, whilst unhappiness has a habit of outstaying its welcome. Paddy and Kitty feel like someone's imaginary friend as they reflect on their lives. They are not in the world, barely present ghosts in their own lives, a recurring theme, nobody remembers them and there is nobody for them to remember.

This novel is unlikely to appeal to some readers, the scenes from Paddy's life are initially opaque, it can be tricky to decipher what is happening and who is who, presenting like illusory realities frayed at the edges, in a timeless non-linear narrative. O'Callaghan's storytelling feel like scenes that slowly solidified into impressionistic pieces of art that then proceed to fade away to be replaced by other scenes from Paddy's life. A sinister edge is added to the eerie, haunting and disturbing tale, with the presence of the controlling Carl. This stellar novel of all that it is to be human, whilst retaining its own imaginative originality, strongly reminded me of Kevin Barry's Night Boat to Tangier. Highly recommended to fans of Irish literary fiction. Many thanks to Random House Transworld for an ARC.

[Peter · Rating 4 out of 5]

Broken
We Are Not in the World is a haunting, tragic and highly original story of a father and daughter travelling across England and France in a haulage truck, and discovering more about their relationship and past in all its raw candour. A story that is deeply emotional and vividly brought to life through fragmented characters and unsettling backgrounds. A history where grief and loss are never too far. “Happiness comes and goes. It tends not to hang around. Unhappiness has a habit of outstaying its welcome.”

Paddy has found himself leasing a truck from a friend, Howard, although his supervisor, Carl, remains in control of the operational side of the haulage contracts and the meet points on the trip which Carl is also making. Paddy picks his estranged daughter, Kitty, up from a Dublin hospital and hides her in the cab as they cross on the ferries between Ireland, England and France. Kitty, emaciated, bruised and wearing a stolen mink coat remains hidden at cafes and anywhere Paddy may know someone. He certainly keeps her hidden from Carl and his prying. Paddy wants to build a relationship with his daughter and ensure, this time, that he gives everything he can and that it will stay like this forever. There is no doubt they love each other, although their interactions are brutally honest and searching.

Paddy often tells Kitty the Irish folklore tale of Oisín and Tír na nÓg, where Oisín is a great Irish warrior who falls in love with Niamh (a princess of the mythical Tír na nÓg – ‘Land of Eternal Youth’). Niamh takes him to Tír na nÓg to live forever young but after a while, Oisín gets homesick and wants to see his family, friends and Ireland again. Niamh gives Oisín a magical horse that he must never dismount. Three hundred years have passed and everyone he knew is dead but as he travels the countryside he comes across a group of men moving rocks and when he tries to help he slips off his horse and lands on the ground, only to age immediately by the three hundred years and soon die. This story is repeated and referenced several times, forging a link between the myth and Paddy's adventure on several levels. Paddy wants to keep his daughter close to him as they travel this private journey together.

“This is it all right. This is the place Carl said to be. This is the correct hour and the correct day. It’s just that I am, I realize only now, a fortnight late. We have lived in the Land of Youth. We’ve lost all track of. Time? Time passes. Or rather, this is what passes for time. We are not in the world exactly. This is more the future we return to, its municipal spaces derelict or in some limbo of sublime incompletion. Nobody remembers us. There’s nobody to remember. All old comrades, the ancient order, have fallen from memory into myth. The saddle is sliding off. We’re sliding off with it and can’t stop time happening.”

Conor O’Callaghan creates a sense of foreboding that things are not going to end well and the insights into the relationship between Paddy and Kitty is beautifully told with flashbacks that add depth to them and other characters. The broken and uncomfortable relationships Paddy has with everyone in his past, including his brother, mother and partners, are perfectly reinforced with the unique narrative style of no punctuation, broken dialogue and clipped sentences.

The writing style takes a little bit of readjustment and concentration to appreciate its flow. The reward is a creative and poetic narrative with colourful dialogue. Fans of Kevin Barry’s ‘Night Boat to Tangiers’ will see similar expressions of style and reflective tones. I would like to thank Doubleday Books and NetGalley for providing me with a free ARC copy in return for an honest review.

[Sandysbookaday (taking a step back for a while) · Rating 5 out of 5]

EXCERPT: Whither the plan, big guy?

She knows I hate her calling me that. I won't rise to her bait.

Short term? We wend our merry way out of this particular circle of hell, ideally without being stopped. Thereafter we hit the northern rim of Paris before sundown, check in with Carl at some pre-ordained routier. Thereafter egg, chips, bed. Long term? The two of us on the road, with only the occasional incoming or outgoing text to maintain radio contact and to stave off all search parties.

Roger Wilco, she says. Six days?

Six days minimum.

Meaning?

We may investigate the possibility of stringing it out. Not a dicky bird.

Seriously? she says. She stares bewildered into middle distance. Who am I gonna tell?

Your mom?

You really worry me, she says quietly. You know that?

I know nothing.

ABOUT THIS BOOK: Heartbroken after a long, painful love affair, a man drives a haulage lorry from England to France. Travelling with him is a secret passenger - his daughter. Twenty-something, unkempt, off the rails.
With a week on the road together, father and daughter must restore themselves and each other, and repair a relationship that is at once fiercely loving and deeply scarred.
As they journey south, down the motorways, through the service stations, a devastating picture reveals itself: a story of grief, of shame, and of love in all its complex, dark and glorious manifestations.

MY THOUGHTS: I made the comment, part way through We Are Not In The World by Connor O'Callaghan, that this is an incredibly strange book, but equally compelling. As the novel progresses and the purpose of the journey becomes clearer, it becomes a little less strange, but no less compelling.

This is not an easy read. O'Callaghan makes the reader work for his enjoyment. The narrative meanders backwards and forwards in time seemingly randomly and totally without warning. It is often difficult to tell what is happening to whom. It can be like trying to watch a drive-in movie in shifting fog. Just when you think you have a handle on something, that you are able to grip something solid, it all shifts, and you are once again quite unsure of that of which you were absolutely sure only moments ago. And yet, it is quite beautiful. I could no more have stopped reading than not have preordered the new Stephen King.

Paddy (NOT Pat) has grown up the elder son in a dysfunctional family. His father is dead, and his younger brother, Art, named for his father- usually the privilege that falls to the eldest- is educated at his father's old boarding school. Paddy basically brings himself up, his mother spending her days smoking and drinking whisky in front of an endless stream of old movies on the TV. And yet, it is after his mother that Paddy names his daughter, Kitty. And Art, the distant younger brother, is her godfather. She calls him The Godfather, and he calls her Madam. They are close. He takes her under his wing when Paddy's marriage implodes.

This is a novel of grief and loss, a broken marriage, a love affair, family relationships, regrets and aspirations, and 'the thing we never mention.' It is this thing that leads to the road trip.

Not everyone will love this book. I do.

❤❤❤❤.5

#WeAreNotInTheWorld #NetGalley

Time does what time does best. It passes.

She tells me, with all the joie de vivre of a stoned hippopotamus, how moved or excited she is.

The lyrics seem to detach themselves miraculously from any meaning and acquire, in fragrant humidity, all the sheen and substance of bubbles blown by a child in a suburban garden.

So much of love is how another sees you.

Happiness comes and goes. It tends not to hang around. Unhappiness has a habit of outstaying its welcome.

THE AUTHOR: Connor O'Callaghan is originally from Dundalk, and now divides his time between Dublin and the North of England.

DISCLOSURE: Thank you to Random House UK, Transworld, Doubleday via NetGalley for providing a digital ARC of We Are Not In The World by Connor O'Callaghan for review. All opinions expressed in this review are entirely my own personal opinions.

For an explanation of my rating system please refer to my Goodreads.com profile page or the about page on sandysbookaday.wordpress.com

This review and others are also published on Twitter, Amazon,Instagram and my webpage https://sandysbookaday.wordpress.com/...
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[Gumble's Yard - Golden Reviewer · Rating 4 out of 5]

Published (after a one year delay) 18/02/21

I was intrigued (given my own work) to read this passage by the author in an Irish Times interview to publicise the book

I come from a family of insurance brokers. My father’s family. I think on some level loss is a natural theme for me as a result, since that whole industry is predicated around the risk of loss and the assessment of loss. This character, this exile with the stage-Irish moniker of Paddy, has lost everything: his family, his home and his sense of belonging. He is adrift on the road with his broken daughter, in the wake of the banking crash and in the midst of a refugee crisis. He talks to her, and he remembers lots about his past, particularly his relationship with his mother, after whom his daughter was named.

Original review ....

I must have dropped a load at some point, but where and when I can’t remember. There must have been no pick-up. Now we’re just a cab. Now we’re doing what the super in the container at Dover said not to, heavy mileage without a load. A load is family. I see that. The load’s ballast gravitates you to a steady keel. Without it, I have felt all over the shop, buffeted by cross-winds, headlong and not enough to fix me to the ground.

This novel is the story of an Irishman man (Paddy), who has spent time in both the US (where he married and had a daughter) and in the UK (originally moving, after the break up of his relationship, to be close to his dying mother – Kitty – the name he also chooses for his daughter).

Now following the death of his mother and the break-up of a long affair with a married woman, he dusts off an old HGV licence (acquired in the aftermath of the financial crash) and takes a job driving a haulage lorry (borrowed from a dying acquaintance) down through France, under the supervision of the controlling Carl. Unbeknownst to Carl (as it would invalidate his insurance) he has smuggled his twentysomething daughter – now early twenties – to join him in something of an attempt to rebuild a broken relationship.

The two – who at times behave more like older brother and younger sister, and sometime like father and daughter - verbally joust around areas like their mixed US/Irish heritage, mannerisms and accents; their respective relationship with the father’s younger brother Art. Art was the favoured son of his father (even named after him), and went off to boarding school after the latters death while the less favoured older brother stayed at home. Art also has a successful career and marriage and is executing his mother’s will - mainly the sale of the old run-down family house Tír Na nÓg.

At the same time, they circle around both the father’s relationship and some form of incident or breakdown which the daughter suffered.

Meanwhile Carl hovers on the margins, with a passive aggressive control of the father often via text, while the father also receives texts from his ex-lover and exchanges texts and calls with his brother. We also share the father’s memories of his rather mixed up relationship with his mother when he was an older teenager, which at times was on the edge of being sexual.

This story is interleaved with the tale of Paddy’s lover, married to a much older academic and with a son born after she no longer believed it possible. That story moves back in time over her relationship with Paddy.

The lorry journey sections features some dialogue which places the story firmly in a the camp of modern Irish literary fiction, reminiscent as it is, in its sharp interactions and unfinished sentences, of say a Kevin Barry or an Eimear McBride.

But the author’s own stamp comes through, in a particularly descriptive way of capturing speech emphasis and phrasing and in some repeated phraseology.

Some examples of the speech descriptions:

She says those final three words like objects being handled with care, someone else’s property

I assumed that, did I. He said ‘assumed’ like he’d run a magic marker through the word.

Lads who go through turmoil. Carl looked especially chuffed with that last word. Carl had savoured it, given it an extra syllable. Like Carl had happened upon it in the quick crossword (fifteen down, a state of upheaval, seven letters, ends in L) and taken a shine to it and filed it away for future usage among discerning listeners.

And the repeated phraseology:

Time does what time does best. We’re back on the road. Time slips underneath and gets sucked into a pinhole of past in a rearview’s middle distance.

The road what the road does this time of the afternoon. Starts clear, piles up at exits for cities and sites of historical interest, thins out.

London does what London does, happening long before you get there. Park-and-ride signage and stadiums and walkways over fast-moving traffic and undulating rows of rooftops becoming ever more densely packed.

While the journey sections are in a standard third-party point of view, the lover’s memories are in the second person. Something which is difficult to pull off but which the author manages and uses I think to produce a sense of the woman in dialogue with herself and her memory. This section is strongly sexually charged, sometimes just a list of reminiscences of the place and circumstance of the two’s sexual encounters. The woman repeatedly says though that the sex was not what she either wanted or valued from the relationship and the use of second person means that this ambiguity and apparent contradiction remains open.

Two themes which run through the novel, and which I think match the two sections:

The lyrics of the Foo Fighters “Best of You”
(https://www.theguardian.com/politics/...

The song is about love, I would love to tell her. It’s about, more specifically, that love that’s nine-tenths the heartache of torturing yourself with thoughts of what another might be in receipt of in your stead.

The Tír Na nÓg legend of Oisín and Niamh (https://www.irishcentral.com/roots/hi...

As the book progresses the truth about the daughter’s breakdown, it’s two way interaction with the break-up of the father’s relationship and the real quest of their journey in France becomes clear to the reader and turns what is already an emotionally charged novel into a even more powerful and affecting one.

Recommended.

My thanks to Penguin for an ARC via NetGalley.

[Clemens Schoonderwoert · Rating 5 out of 5]

This incredibly touching novel tells the tale of mixed emotions shared by father, Paddy, and his daughter, Kitty, while travelling together in a haulage lorry from England to France.

Before I will get further into this tale I have to say that storytelling is really superb, its a language that you will need get used to but once mastered its a huge thrill just to read this wonderful tale with all its glories and downfalls about two people who are completely off the rails and trying to make amends towards each other.

Its a novel about father Paddy and daughter Kitty who are trying to help each other with their own love, shame, pain and grief in what life has brought and given them, and why their relationship has not developed as it should have been.

During this trip to France they will both recollect from past experiences their love and pain for having and losing each other as father and daughter, while father Paddy also has to endure the loss and everlasting grieve for his late mother, Kitty, after which his daughter has been named, while daughter Kitty is deeply scarred by the separation of her parents and subsequent neglect by her father, with the result that's taken in by Paddy's younger brother, the successful son of the family, Art.

Also Paddy, seen as the useless son of the family, will have an affair with a married woman in England, all in an effort to escape his responsibilities as a father and life as a whole.

While being in France father Paddy and daughter Kitty will come to a point of no return, in which Kitty will leave Paddy for good in life as well as in spirit, and both feeling in the end that they have done what they should have done earlier in life.

What is to to follow as a whole is a haunting tale of mixed emotions, broken hearts, broken relationships, and broken lives unable to repair for good, and goor or bad lives that will end in dying, and all this is told by the author in a most captivating and at times in a heart-breaking fashion.

Highly recommended, for this is a marvellous novel about human frailties who are in desperate need of love and help, but they are nor receiving it in the rightful places and as a result are ever more feeling lonely, destitute, and will seen themselves as failures and thus not in the world, and that's why I like to call this beautiful novel: "A Brilliant Little Irish Gem"!

[Ends of the Word · Rating 4 out of 5]

One of the best things about this novel is its title. I am not being facetious. It sums up, in a brief poetic phrase, the predicament of its cast of characters, and, with each new chapter, it assumes additional layers of meaning.

The protagonist of the novel is Paddy, an Irishman. Having lived for several years in America with his wife and daughter, he relocates to England, closer to home, yet not quite. Like him, his daughter Kitty seems to live a displaced existence. In her native country, she is considered “foreign” due to her Irish roots. However, when she starts college in Dublin, she is even more of an outsider. A love affair gone horribly wrong turns her “homecoming” into a nightmare.

We are not in the World is a road novel of sorts. When we first meet Paddy, he is at a steering wheel of a haulage truck, crossing from England into France. Like his daughter, love has caused him pain, and he is at the tail end of a painful extramarital relationship. In a bid to escape – physically and mentally – he unearths a truck driver’s licence which he has never previously used and offers to cover for Howard, a terminally ill friend who works as a driver for the mysterious and slightly unsettling boss Carl. Carl is wary of his atypical recruit and he has reason to be. Indeed, Paddy has some tricks up his sleeve. He smuggles with him on the trip his daughter Kitty, in a desperate bid to rebuild a relationship which might cure her after the trauma she recently went through.

The endless motorways, the refuelling stations where Paddy (occasionally) meets Carl for instructions, the strange fellowship of truck drivers to which Paddy never belongs… they are also “not in the world”, a sort of no-man’s land. The driver’s cabin – in which Paddy traverses this “other world” – serves as the backdrop to the witty, bittersweet exchanges between father and daughter. Gradually, events from their past come into focus, and we understand the scars they carry.

The “French” chapters alternate with segments narrated in the second person, describing the torrid love affair from which Paddy has just emerged. This parallel story is told in inverse chronological order, such that we first witness the disintegration of the relationship and move back to its tentative, initial stages.

What links the two narratives is a folktale which Paddy recounts to both his daughter and his lover – the story of the Irish warrior Oisín. Oisín falls in love with Niamh, princess of the “Land of Eternal Youth” (Tír na nÓg) Oisín is gifted immortality, but misses his homeland and kin. Niamh sends him back on a magical horse, warning him that he should never dismount. Tragically, he slips off the beast and dies. Elements of the myth are reworked into the novel, sometimes in ways which are not immediately obvious. For instance, Carl provides Paddy with doctored tachographs, enabling him to spend longer stretches on the road than allowed by the law. Again, there is this sense of stepping out of time and out of reality, like Oisín’s three hundred years in Tír na nÓg.

This liminal existence appears to extend to the character’s thoughts, which teeter on the threshold between silence and speech. When Paddy’s lover first meets him during an interview, she almost immediately finds herself indulging in erotic fantasies:

“Would the candidate care to lick your throat?...” The room exploded. You had a split second of panic where it seemed as if you actually might have blurted that out loud. It was, in the end, something funny someone else said.

Similarly, Paddy often finds himself wondering whether he has said something out loud:

There are certain thoughts I can’t think now, for fear of being overheard.

This is a defining aspect of the novel. It is also one which initially irritated me and almost put me off the book. I must admit I found the constant switch between monologue and dialogue and the sometimes-half-expressed thoughts confusing. I had to make a considerable effort to follow who was saying what and, on top of that, the segments in second-person narration, which I tend to find artificial, provided little respite.

But believe me, it was worth it. Because it is only when the novel reaches its emotionally shattering climax that one can step back and watch, awestruck, as all the elements of the novel reassemble into one, impressive whole.

4.5*

[Barbara · Rating 4 out of 5]

The author described this as a novel that Irish readers have no trouble following. But I was not always sure I understood what was happening. The story moves from past to present and back again and is the most non-linear story I have read in quite a while. Paddy is a truck driver, Irish, and driving in Europe, though not quite legally. Initially I thought he was going to be smuggling migrants from outside of Europe to England but that is not the case. There are characters that the reader may not be sure of - have they died? or are they ghosts? Many in my book club were more confused than I was and some were Irish. Perhaps it's a generational thing. The writing is exquisite as O'Callaghan is a poet. In a recent conversation at the Belfast Book Festival (June 2021), O'Callaghan said he was going to continue writing novels and not write poetry. His two novels are quite moving, so I look forward to reading his next.

[Alan · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really loved most of this: was a five star read, a father's relationship with his teenage daughter as he drives a lorry from the UK to France, via the ferry, she an illegal passenger, but every other chapter is told in the second person and I was confused and put off. 'You' in this case is his (ex?) lover and while it was good to hear a different perspective the writing sometimes became convoluted and unnecessarily difficult and interrupted the smoother - beautiful - work done in the alternate chapters. Probably me, as others don't seem to have a problem with it. An excellent writer though, and one to watch.

[SueLucie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Time does what time does best. We’re back on the road. Time slips underneath and gets sucked into a pinhole of past in a rearview’s middle distance.

This is an emotionally charged story told in that Irish way I love so much. Once I’d got used to the dialogue - no punctuation, unfinished sentences and having to concentrate to make out who was saying what - I could relax into the banter between the father and daughter on their road trip, using the time to reminisce about her and his childhoods and forge a new relationship. The slightly creepy truck supervisor Carl lurks around, keeping tabs on our narrator’s journey and introducing a note of foreboding. I thought he was really well portrayed, we all know someone like him, looking out for a chink of weakness in others he can exploit. The sense of dislocation is central, both father and daughter are cut free from their old lives, the trip serves as a space to think, a period of suspension before the new begins. Sad stories, some lovely writing and an ending that pleased me.

Reminiscent of Kevin Barry’s ‘Night Boat to Tangier’ in its understated way of conveying deep emotion, I’d recommend this highly.

With thanks to Random House, Doubleday via NetGalley for the opportunity to read an ARC.

[Susie]

I don't think audio was the right medium for this so I'm going to withhold my rating until I read it.

[Alan M · Rating 5 out of 5]

'We are not in the world exactly. This is more the future we return to, its municipal spaces derelict or in some limbo of sublime incompletion. Nobody remembers us. There's nobody to remember. All old comrades, the ancient order, have fallen from memory into myth. The saddle is sliding off. We're sliding off with it and can't stop time happening.'

What is it with the Irish and this urge to write books or plays full of dialogue between two people? It's confessional, almost, a moment of connection between people. Beckett, obviously, but I came to this after lauding last year's 'Night Boat to Tangier' by Kevin Barry. So I worried that this might pale by comparison. There is no need to worry, however, for Conor O'Callaghan has penned a work of quietly devastating wonder that it very much stands on its own two feet.

Paddy, taking advantage of a friend's incapacity, resuscitates his old HGV licence and is employed by the mysterious Carl to drive down through France, dropping off and collecting cargo on the way. He sneaks his daughter into the cab with him and together, as they drive, they engage in father-daughter banter. One subject remains off-limits, however, casting a shadow over their relationship. Interspersed with these current events is the story of Paddy's married lover, and how their relationship has developed over time. As time moves forward, these chapters go back further in time, to the beginning and how they met. What also emerges is the story of Paddy's relationship with his late mother Kitty (also the name of his daughter) and his brother Arthur (or Art, named after their father). At stake is the sale of the family home, Tír na nÓg (meaning the Land of Youth), which Art is trying to get rid of as beneficiary of the estate.

Myth-making and family history, a sense of belonging, and a sense of exile and journey: these are classic motifs of Irish literature and O'Callaghan weaves a complex, challenging story. Conversations are half-intuited, shadowy figures occupy the margins of the stories that are told and, as Paddy's journey progresses, we realise that his grasp on time and reality are less assured than he thinks. It's impossible to go into some of the plot details without slamming a 'spoiler alert' over it, so just go with it and let the gaps and absences take you on the journey.

At times the prose is sublime and deeply moving. There is the sense of an elegy, interspersed with typical Irish wit, but above all this is a literal and metaphorical journey, Paddy's story and the Oisín myth intertwined:

'I've lived my adult life with this floor of underlying homesickness. Not for our mother, nor the seascape in which we grew up, nor any mythical golden age. It's more a homesickness born of absence, of having no home to yearn to revisit.'

I loved this. It is a moving, lyrical testament to home, family and love. The writing is just wonderful and the ending... desperately sad, but with just a hint of hope for the future. Yes, it is hard work at times to follow the dialogue or work out exactly what is going on, but it will reward a willing reader with an open mind and O'Callaghan has delivered a stunning novel. I can't not give it 5 stars. Sublime.

[MisterHobgoblin · Rating 3 out of 5]

Paddy is a middle class man who has accepted a short term job driving an articulated lorry on a run from Northern England to France. This is supposed to take a week, there and back. Paddy has his daughter Kitty for company, unknown to Carl who is running the operation.

This is one of those novels where everything seems to be deliberately opaque. It's not clear what the lorry run is all about. Why has Paddy decided to do it? Why was he even asked? Why is his daughter with him? Who is Carl and why is he shadowing the journey?

The novel is divided into interleaving sections. One is the truck journey; dialogue between Paddy and Kitty; trucker cafes; and introspection. Sentences are left hanging, there are text messages from A, we slip from dialogue into introspection with little signposting. And the second thread is about Paddy's former partner - or is it his daughter - and her relationships with unsympathetic men.

In a further attempt to obfuscate, characters share names. And there seems to be a lot of dying.

It becomes apparent reasonably early on that something is not right, but for most of the novel it isn't clear exactly what. Timelines blur, stories slip into one another, Paddy seems to be hiding from Carl. There's something happening with the tachographs where Paddy slips from fastidious refusal to tamper with the system to not using it at all. I suspect some of this would make more sense from a re-read.

But a re-read is unlikely, mostly because I found the characters unknowable - and that's not fantastic in what is perhaps a character led novel. The characters do things, and they think things, and they say things but they never seem to feel anything. Their pasts are too fragmentary to build into a clear picture of who they are and what drives them as people. Their actions don't seem to have clear motivations. Perhaps in the final pages it is possible to make some inferences and that is what redeems this in part, but for a short book this feels very long.

[Chloe · Rating 3 out of 5]

enjoyed the premise and the twist was well done, as was the discussion on societal issues. the characters were kind of flat as the writing dragged a bit but a decent read

[Mandy · Rating 2 out of 5]

I’m perfectly happy to work hard at a book. I have no trouble if I am challenged whilst reading. But the payoff has to be worth the effort and for me it wasn’t here. The style was unnecessarily obscure, and too many questions were left unanswered with too much having to be inferred. It’s the story of a man and his estranged daughter making a road trip from England to France in a borrowed lorry whilst they take this opportunity to work through old issues and reconnect with each other. Much grief, loss and regret form the background to the narrative but I was alienated by having to work out what was happening and thus remained unengaged with any of the characters. Stylistically it got on my …..Too many sentences are truncated like this and start but never….and much of the dialogue too is clipped and……As a stylistic tic this can be effective but not when overused. Then it just becomes……The narrative is fragmented, jumping about in time and place, and the big question remained for me – why on earth was he driving this lorry with his stowaway daughter in the first place? There must be easier ways to reconnect with a loved one. As for the end of the love affair he is also trying to come to terms with, well that didn’t convince me either. So a thumbs down for me, sadly as I did feel that the conceit had potential which unfortunately wasn’t realised.

[Anni · Rating 4 out of 5]

Regrets, missed opportunities and family hostilities are brought to the surface on a road trip through France, with the narrator musing about his fraught relationship with his daughter, who is along for the ride. As the journey progresses, the revelations become ever more hazy and ambiguous over the events which haunt the father’s mind, leaving the reader puzzling over the truth long afterward - though the title may offer a clue. A beautifully written and poignant portrayal of grief and loss.

Thanks go to the publisher for the ARC via Netgalley.

Merged review:

Reviewed under a different title :- 'I Have You Now'

[Ida Martine]

This made me ugly cry. I'll write a review later

[Andy Weston · Rating 3 out of 5]

I didn't enjoy this anywhere near as much as I did with his first novel, Nothing On Earth. That had an element of horror to its mystery, and was much more my thing. This is much slower and meditative, and I couldn't get his previous work out of my mind. In this book, not much happens, it is not so much plot driven, and I kept thinking I was missing something, when I actually had not.
Here, the narrator, Paddy, is struggling to get over his separation from his wife, and death of his father. He takes the chance to escape from his depression by agreeing to drive his friend's (who is dying of cancer) HGV to France for a week, with his 18 year old daughter stowed away in the cab. He intends to visit an old flame in the south, from a broken-down affair a few years previously. His daughter has been his only steadying influence, but she is also struggling with life, mentally fragile and possibly anorexic.
If there's a twinkle of light in this dark story, it is the character of Carl, who Paddy bumps into occasionally, a sort of school-bully throwback, but to the extent that its humorous.
O'Callaghan writes powerful stuff for sure, but I am not a lover of novels of deteriorating observations on mental health.

[Royce · Rating 5 out of 5]

Although I have never visited Ireland, many writers I absolutely love, including Anne Enright, Edna O’Brien, Maggie O’Farrell, Donal Ryan, Roddy Doyle, Maeve Binchy are Irish.Conor O’Callaghan exemplifies everything I like about Irish writers; simple, direct prose telling stories about the complexities of human relationships. More specifically, this novel reveals what happens to ordinary people who find themselves in troubling, difficult situations. How these individuals live and survive shows what it means to be human. A story that will stay with me for a long time. I highly recommend this wonderful novel.

[Natasha · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5⭐ only because it took me a long time to get into. A superb book. Beautifully written.

[Anne · Rating 4 out of 5]

We Are Not In The World is a slim volume, the paperback is just 272 pages long but it's story that needs to be savoured, no rushing here. The writing is sparse and taut, the characters are a joy to discover. It's a novel that challenges, due to the structure and the content, yet it left such a lasting impression upon this reader.

It's a story of journeys. The lead characters; Paddy and Kitty set off from England to France in a borrowed lorry, their journey is not just one of miles covered, it encompasses their whole lifetime. We learn how Paddy is heartbroken after a long affair with a married woman, and how Kitty has been estranged from him for many years. As they travel the miles, with Kitty hidden away, the reader becomes an earnest listener too. Paddy explores his life, with many regrets, and some bitterness toward people who have featured in it.

It's fair to say that this is a fragmented story, the structure is unusual, often not linear and sometimes challenging. However, the strength here is in the writing, the creation of beautiful prose and the quite stunning insight into the life of a man who is ordinary, whilst also being extraordinary.

The author cleverly involves Irish folklore within the story, with Paddy relating the tales of Oisín and Tír na nÓg, the reader comes to realise that these tales reflect Paddy's own experiences and add such depth to the novel.

With a overwhelming sense of dread throughout, we are not sure just what Paddy will reveal next, and yet there's also a feeling of warmth that builds between the characters, this is a challenging, complex read and does take some settling into.

A novel of relationships, grief, sorrow and re-building and one that I have much admiration for.

[Jess · Rating 3 out of 5]

We are not in the world focusses on truck driver, Paddy, as he makes his way to France with his daughter hidden in the back of his vehicle. As the novel progresses we learn more about Paddy’s backstory and the difficult relationship he has had with his mother, brother and daughter. We also see him trying to improve his relationship with his daughter on the journey.

Overall, there was a lot of focus on emotion and there were scenes between father and daughter that were very moving. Overall though, the narrative was very difficult to follow. It was fragmented and vague – purposefully – but I just couldn’t get on with it at all. There were times when I was unsure whether the narrator was referencing his mother or his daughter (who both share the same name), or even who was speaking certain lines. Whilst I understand why the author made this stylistic choice, I personally didn’t like it.

That being said, there were some poignant moments throughout and the author can clearly write very well. If you like novels that are intentionally obscure and do away with conventional storytelling methods then this may well be for you. Unfortunately, I just couldn’t connect with this one. It wasn’t for me!

Thanks to NetGalley and Doubleday for the ARC in exchange for an honest, unbiased review.

[Dr. des. Siobhán · Rating 3 out of 5]

"We Are Not in the World" is about Paddy, a middle aged Irishman whose affairs have destroyed his marriage and the relationship to his entire family and who now drives a truck from England to France. On board is his twentysomething daughter who is not well, mentally or physically. They either do not talk or try to reconnect. The readers learns a lot about Paddy, his family, his struggles but also about the woman with whom he has had an affair that destroyed him. With her as the focaliser, disturbing sex scenes and unhealthy obsessions disrupt the narrative and also prove how both of these characters cannot let the other go, cannot stay with their respective families. I found the sex scenes to be quite male-gaze-y, a nymphomaniac as the wet dream. Having said that, I found all female characters to be somewhat lacking. The daughter was a bit too much and I felt like I needed more backstory, but due to the narrative situation, having her drift in and out made sense. The entire novel felt like a fever dream as Paddy is not well, his mental health is not well, time passes and he does not notice. The daughter is like a ghost in the truck, other truck drivers demons haunting them both, the entire world is their enemy. Nevertheless I was unable to put the book down in parts and was impressed by the deft way the novel is crafted. I will need to think more about this novel. 3.5-4 stars

[Mary Lou · Rating 5 out of 5]

Paddy needs to move on, away from a long and finally broken relationship, so he takes on a temporary role as a long-haul lorry driver. As he crosses the channel and drives through France, he takes his troubled daughter with him for company, but he must keep her hidden from sight for insurance purposes.
We Are Not In The World by Conor O’Callaghan is the best book I have read in a long time, one for crying over noisily now and mulling over quietly later.
Chapters alternate between his road trip and his playful affectionate conversations with Kitty, and the loving and sensual reminiscences of Paddy’s ex- lover. And the language is just gorgeous, tender and glowing. The unfinished sentences in Paddy’s conversations with both women is beautiful, and it’s a long time since I have heard the word budge used as an instruction.
Paddy is a broken character, and this is a book I will remember.

[Bob · Rating 5 out of 5]

Incredibly touching, incredibly moving. Poetry within prose and prose within poetry. It actually reads out loud exceptionally well. I took a few goes at the beginning, a few false starts, but then the rhythm and pace clicked and all was well. Mostly... Conor likes to make you work but the experience is all the better for it. I read this in one sitting and I'm not exactly sure what to do with myself now I've put it down. Actually, put it down for the second time because, after the first, I picked it up again and read the beginning to see why I had those false starts - I have no idea. Clear as a bell.
I'd heard of Tír na nÓg but didn't know what it meant and certainly didn't know how to pronounce it. I now know both and also the tale of Oisin and Niamh. (I also remember the band!) The Irishness flows throughout but not in any clichéd way. No dialect, just dialogue that, occasionally, takes you straight to Dublin. I'm left feeling somewhat melancholic but also lifted by the indulgent few hours that I've spent submerged within the depths of this beautiful piece of art.
It's another good 'un, Conor.

[Mary Crawford · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a brilliant book, the language, mythology, grief, sadness, belonging and not belonging, family relationships - this book reaches right in and grabs your heart and soul.

[Julie · Rating 4 out of 5]

I shed a tear at the end of this. Good to have to figure out the timeline and conversations. A tale of love, heartbreak, regret and forgiveness.

[Naseerah · Rating 5 out of 5]

Genius and brutal and holy fucking fuckkkkkk (sobbing).

[Margaret · Rating 2 out of 5]

A strange, confusing and depressing book that I read as though I was in fog, never really getting to grips with the plot. It meanders and drifts through the characters, shifting between the past, the near past and the present, and from place to place, as Paddy drives the lorry from England down to the south of France. I was often not sure what was happening, when or where it was happening and to whom it was happening. It’s a stream of consciousness, as the various characters move in and out of focus.

There were times when I wondered why I was reading this, it was like a dream where the scenes move randomly through a number of sequences, and you wake up with that fearful feeling that something dreadful has been going on inside your head that was disturbing, and unsettling. There’s a sense of timelessness and of detachment from the day to day reality – they are not in the world. And yet I was compelled to read on, if only just to get to the end and see if my suspicions about what had actually happened were right. They were, although there is a little twist at the very end that I hadn’t expected.

The fairy tale of Oisin, a tale Paddy tells his daughter, interests me. Oisin was a warrior who fell in love with a fairy named Niamh. He takes her home to Tir na nOg, where they will stay forever young, but he can never return home. After three years he is homesick and returns on a magic horse, on the condition that he has to stay on the horse on pain of death. But three hundred years have actually gone by, not three, and everyone he knew is dead. He meets an old man who knew his father and moving to help him he slips off the horse, touches the ground and dies in an instant. He repeats this story several times to his daughter as they travel through France. It links with Tir na nOg, the name of his family home, now neglected and empty after his mother’s death three years earlier.

This is not an easy read, as you have to concentrate on all the different strands. Paddy’s life is a complete mess, he has lost everything: his family, his home and his sense of belonging. He looks back at the broken relationships with his parents, his brother, ex-wife, daughter, and ex-lover. It’s told in fragments and you have to read between the lines to understand it. I didn’t enjoy the book, and found it difficult to follow. It is too vague, and as soon as I thought I’d begun to understand it, it drifted away into obscurity. and I was left floundering.

My thanks to the publishers and to NetGalley for my advance review copy.

[Amanda · Rating 3 out of 5]

Greif and regret on the road.

A haulier drives south through France, carrying a secret passenger, his estranged daughter. Over the course of their journey they attempt to heal the hurt.

O’Callaghan is reticent with detail, making the reader work hard. His narrative style of abbreviated dialogue and blurring memories with the present takes some getting used to. In particular, the truncated dialogue initially feels affected. But, as the journey progresses, the portrayal of missed opportunities turns poignant.

Ultimately, I failed to connect with the characters.

My thanks to NetGalley and Random House UK, Transworld Publishers Doubleday, for the ARC.

[Jim Hanks · Rating 4 out of 5]

Paddy is a truck driver on his way from England to France. He brings his daughter Kitty along with him. The book is a little tough going at first but is rewarding in the end as the story touches on grief, love and family.