I’ve long loved the film version of “The Commitments”, largely due to a love of the soundtrack, which features classic soul tracks very well performed, set around a band full of banter and arguments. I’ve also long loved the works of Roddy Doyle, as he writes with a gritty reality that has not only won awards, but also wins hearts with the way he sees the everyday, but shows it to you in such a way that it becomes something special. What I hadn’t realised was that the former was the first of the trilogy of novels, all set in the fictional suburb of Barrytown, Dublin, and all written around the Rabbitte family.
Like with the film, Roddy Doyle’s version of “The Commitments” starts with Jimmy Rabbitte putting together a soul band. They’re a disparate group, from trumpet player Joey “The Lips” Fagan, who has decades of experience in playing with the greats, through to Derek, who will be a bass guitarist as soon as he’s saved enough money to buy one. Somehow, Jimmy manages to make a band out of them and thanks to a combination of a decent vocalist, plenty of practice and hard work and a couple of crowd-pleasing lyrics that appeal to the locals, they make it to the verge of success.
You can immediately see why this book should make for such a great screenplay, as much of the story is told in dialogue and song. Virtually everything here is written the way it would sound and, despite being on the printed page, this almost feels like an audiobook, as the dialogue is written in the accent and dialogue it was spoken in and the soul classics are written in sounds and lyrics. But the book doesn’t stand still for a moment and whilst the band are later introduced as “the hardest working band in Dublin”, the same could be said for the narrative and as the band burned brightly, but for the shortest of times and the book does the same.
Perhaps the one downside to the novel is that because of this, you don’t get to know much about the characters other than their instruments. Jimmy stands out a little as the controlling factor, as well as the link between the later novels, but in many ways, a lot of the band blend into each other and it’s mostly only their instruments that differentiate them from each other. The sounds of the music are equally often similar and it’s only when the lyrics come in that it’s clear what song they are actually playing.
But “The Commitments” is not really a book that you read, it’s more one that you view, as it’s written in such a way that you feel like you’re in the corner of various rooms watching it. The reader is a fly on the wall and the story is described as much as told and even then there’s room for a couple of descriptive gems from Doyle that have all the beauty of the song lyrics. I was vaguely disappointed to discover that a couple of the scenes and songs from the film weren’t actually in here, but I can rewatch the film for those and the story that is in these pages is thoroughly enjoyable as it stands.
There is quite the change of pace for “The Snapper”, as it comes out of the musical world and into the family home, as Jimmy’s sister Sharon has just told her parents that she is pregnant, which has not been entirely well received. She is young and unmarried at a time and in a part of Ireland where this is either frowned upon or gossiped about and usually both at once. Her family are largely supportive, even when she refuses to tell them who the father is, with the baby having been conceived under non-consensual circumstances, but when rumours start to swirl about his identity, holes are torn in some of Sharon’s relationships, both with her family as well as with some of her closest friends.
What “The Snapper” has in common with “The Commitments”, apart from the setting, is that it’s a book that has a very audio feel to it. Nearly the entire story is conversations between any number of people and whilst there is the occasional action piece, many of these happen off the page and are described by one person to another as much as written down. This is a novel that sometimes has the emotions of something like “EastEnders”, but there are moments of massive humour and joy and some of the group dynamics and ultimately this is a novel full of so much conversation, heart and family dynamics that you could easily see it as a television series.
That said, this writing style does make Doyle’s writing hard to follow at times, as he writes in the vernacular they would use and this can take some getting used to as well as some translation. For example, it didn’t occur to me until very late in the novel that the title “The Snapper” was a reference to the baby. Doyle also rarely tells you who is speaking, so if a conversation gets more involved that something between two people who ended up in the same room the format he uses can occasionally be difficult to follow and I had to go back around a couple of times in the middle of a conversation to figure out who said what.
“The Snapper” had a darker tone than “The Commitments” and I suspect this is the reason I enjoyed it a little bit less. I also know a lot more about classic soul tunes than I do about dealing with pregnancy, either personally or from a close perspective, so I didn’t feel quite as involved with this one from that regard, either. But despite being a touch darker and occasionally tough to follow, there’s no question that what Doyle has given us here is a slice of life, raw and uncut, straight onto the page, with all the drama of a soap opera. That may be another reason I couldn’t get quite as involved in it, as I’m not a big fan of soap operas, but to get the same feeling from this as I do from those can again only be testament to how good Doyle is at what he does.
The trilogy comes to an end with “The Van” and if “The Snapper” took a darker tone emotionally from “The Commitments”, that goes even further here. Since the previous novel, the snapper of the title is growing up and Jimmy has time to get to know his grand-daughter thanks to being unemployed. As much as he enjoys her company, the lack of money means he can’t go down the pub with his mates as often as he used to and hanging around the house is making him depressed, especially as he can’t provide for his family. But when his best friend Bimbo gets made redundant and puts a chunk of his payout into buying a chip van, the two of them have a purpose working together and with Jimmy’s daughter Sharon helping out, life is getting better for Jimmy, at least to start with.
“The Van” is a book that takes you through the whole range of human emotions, as Jimmy goes through the wringer, both on his own account, but also supporting his friends and family. To start with, it feels like it’s going to be a slow and bleak book as Jimmy deals with his feelings of depression and being less of a man as he can’t provide for his family or afford to maintain his friendships. But once he and Bimbo start working together, the shared aims and camaraderie give them both a sense of purpose and a joy that being out of work had stolen from them. With the money it brings in, he is able to regain some of the self-respect and purpose he had lost.
Although there isn’t a huge amount of character-building here, we already know the characters fairly well from the previous novels and whilst this may be a downside if you’ve read this one first, by and large it’s all very familiar from the start. Some of the emotions may be unfamiliar and deeper than in either of the other novels, but the trilogy has become deeper and more involved as it has progressed and this the natural next step from where it had been. This does mean it can be a tough read at times, but the pace of the novel moves along quite nicely, particularly when Jimmy and Bimbo start becoming involved with the van and their lives and relationships take an upturn, perfectly indicating how life seems easier when you have a purpose and a reason.
Three books into the trilogy, the conversational style is easier to follow, but it’s made easier this time around by there being more narrative than conversation in the story. There are fewer group conversations to get people mixed up with each other as well, as was particularly awkward in the previous novel, so this one reads a little easier, even as it becomes harder going emotionally. As tough as it is at times, this is by far the best written book in the trilogy, with the realism coming off the page in every moment and you can believe everything and, having lived through the trilogy with them all, this is a tough, but perfect way to end.
Thie is a trilogy of novels that has grown both emotionally and in the writing style as it has gone on and it’s been getting better as it’s become tougher going. Where “The Commitments” felt like a film, with a banging soundtrack, “The Snapper” felt like a soap opera and not one of the happier ones. But “The Van” feels like you’re watching someone’s life happening in front of you and it’s at this point where Roddy Doyle’s later Booker Prize win became inevitable, even as his first nomination was earned, as whilst the first two novels were books you could watch, this became one you lived and it’s incredible to think that this were his first three novels, as they’re unmissable, especially as the whole trilogy.