A Very Strange Man: A Memoir of Aidan Higgins

by Alannah Hopkin

This is a love story, set in the Irish literary world between 1986 and 2015. When they were first introduced by the poet Derek Mahon, Alannah Hopkin was an arts journalist turned full-time writer and Aidan Higgins, twenty-three years her senior, was a literary stylist, often cited as the heir to Ireland’s great Modernist tradition. They wrote steadily during their twenty-nine years together, but their careers could not have been more while Aidan focused on fiction and memoirs, Alannah prioritised work that paid the bills. This gave Aidan the most stable and productive years of his life. But as his eyesight failed and his memory began to fade, Alannah became his carer and had to fight to keep her own writing career alive.

Drawing from diaries and notebooks, and correspondence with writers such as Samuel Beckett, Alice Munro and Harold Pinter, this is a unique record of a major Irish writer. From the joyful honeymoon years – filled with launches, festivals and visits to their Kinsale home by Richard Ford, Edna O’Brien and other literary legends – to the increasingly difficult years of Aidan’s decline, Hopkin tells their story candidly and without commentary. She shows us how, in spite of all, they remained the best of friends, in love until Aidan’s very last breath.

A Very Strange Man is an exceptional piece of writing, objective and authoritative, personal, honest and moving.

368 pages, Paperback

Published June 23, 2021

Reviews

[MJ Nicholls · Rating 4 out of 5]

In 1987, novelist/journalist Alannah Hopkin and modernist titan Aidan Higgins settled into their home in the town of Kinsale on the southern coast of Ireland, having struck up their romance the winter before c/o the matchmaking skills of poet Derek Mahon. Their home at slight remove from the sea was to become their main residence for the rest of Higgins’s stint in this realm. Here, he completed one story collection, a book of travel pieces, one novel, a three-volume memoir on his childhood and life’s loves, and a short book on the perils of blindness. Hopkin, twenty-two years younger, chose to concentrate on journalism to help support them.

A lucid memoir of two writers with fierce personalities cohabiting, Hopkin presents an iridescent insight into the crankiness, kindliness, and candour of a writer whose fiction was a form of baroque autobiography, whether the loss of grandeur in Langrishe, Go Down (based on the Higgins clan’s sliding social status), the epic European sprawl of wanderlust in Balcony of Europe (informed by Higgins’s wide travels), or the epistolary exchange of love-missives in Bornholm Night-Ferry (drawn from his relationship with a Danish poet). Hopkins creates an intimate portrait of a writer prone to acidic outbursts (his comments on Hopkin’s own writing are a mix of helpful and offensive—she would publish no fiction until after his death), uninterested in modern culture (no TV in the house, niche musical tastes), a cool raconteur prone to social gaffes, and a mild-mannered and loving man content in his cocoon of literary eccentricity, frequently furious at the marginalisation of his talents by a predictably unreceptive public.

Higgins’s medical decline is a catalogue of calamities, from partial blindness, vascular dementia, self-harm episodes, various strokes, and breathing problems. Hopkin is upfront on her own exasperation at this terrifying period, at the frustration at the depth and time of the pain suffered and her own role as beleaguered nurse (he would receive round-the-clock care in a nursing home in his last three years), watching her husband deteriorate over a decade and a half. As a statement of independence as a writer, free to come into her own while penning a tribute to the curious genius who nurtured her fiction-writing chops, this is a superb memoir, a snapshot of the Irish illuminati (count the famous cameos) at the fag end of literature’s cultural status, an unsentimental peep at one verbivoracious man committed to the world within the word, free from fawning (Hopkin was never fond of his fiction, preferring the memoirs) and steeped in the lush landscape of rural Eire. An essential read for Irish lit enthusiasts from here to Malin Head.

[Nicola Pierce · Rating 4 out of 5]

It was the photograph that made me pick this up in my local Waterstones. I had heard of Higgins's most famous novel 'Langrish, Go Down' but that was about it. I love memoirs about writers - and better again if written by a spouse - so I thoroughly enjoyed this as an insight into a relationship and as an insight into the writing life, a life and a relationship that involved two writers trying to make a living and keep on keeping on. Plenty of writing tips here and I must applaud Hopkins for continuing to write in the face of Higgins's constant criticism of her talent. It was also an insight into dealing with a terminally ill partner, losing them day by day to Dementia, whilst struggling to maintain one's sanity and freedom and the nagging guilt that accompanies that. The end was a long time coming. I hope Hopkins might write a sequel, about herself this time, as I enjoyed reading her very much.

[Eddie · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book gives a rare insight in to the precarious life of writers, their relationship with publishers and the struggle to make a living from writing. Although it is branded as a memoir on Aidan's life for me it gave a greater appreciation of Alannah's character which is one of empathy, caring and passion.
It is a brave book to write from her point of view. Her relationship with Aidan came late in his life, and the book deals well with life shared when there is a significant age gap between the partners.
An understanding of Higgins work would benefit from learning more of his early life and influences.

[Gabrielle · Rating 4 out of 5]

a very very interesting memoir that gives insight into the inner world of married writers in the late 20th century in ireland! had to read this for my program and had the opportunity to interview alannah hopkin about her experience writing it. even though the memoir is largely about her life with her husband, writer aidan higgins, it’s amazing how much of the author’s inner life comes through, despite her restraint and lack of self-importance. we’ve been discussing what delineates memoir from biography, and i think this is a prime example of something that originates as a biography and then morphs into a beautiful, candid portrait of her inner life and the challenges of watching dementia take over the mind of the person you love. if you love memoir, i definitely recommend 💌