From bestselling and Booker-nominated author Colm Tóibín comes a beautiful collection of essays ranging from personal memoir to brilliantly acute writing on religion, literature and politics.
From the melancholy and amusement within the work of the writer John McGahern to an extraordinary essay on his own cancer diagnosis, Tóibín delineates the bleakness and strangeness of life and also its richness and its complexity. As he reveals the shades of light and dark in a Venice without tourists and the streets of Buenos Aires riddled with disappearances, we find ourselves considering law and religion in Ireland as well as the intricacies of Marilynne Robinson's fiction. The imprint of the written word on the private self, as Tóibín himself remarks, is extraordinarily powerful. In this collection, that power is gloriously alive, illuminating history and literature, politics and power, family and the self.
Colm Tóibín FRSL, is an Irish novelist, short story writer, essayist, playwright, journalist, critic, and poet. Tóibín is currently Irene and Sidney B. Silverman Professor of the Humanities at Columbia University in Manhattan and succeeded Martin Amis as professor of creative writing at the University of Manchester.
Audiobook….read by Colm Toibin ….9 hours and 35 minutes
The daily cancer treatment routines began ….. Toibin enjoyed using the word issue. He had never used the word — now he could use it every day. He had issues or he didn’t have issues — in regards to his Cancer/chemo treatments. The steroid pills gave him issues.
These essays- memoir — are FANTASTIC….highly enriched by the audiobook: Toibin couldn’t have read it better.
Each essay is deeply personal to the author. Many people will relate!
The first essay: “Cancer”…. was worth the price of the entire book for me.
Anyone who has been seriously sick for an extended time might be able to relate to how it was for Toibin when he had Cancer: (during the darkest phase)…. “Everything that normally kept the mind going was reduced to almost zero. He couldn’t think. “No books, no TV, no magazines, no memories, just staring out into space. No thoughts, no plans for the future….nothing”.
Each essay — even the ones where he talks about BOOKS… literature are deeply personal.
note: From listening to Colm read …. I warmly remember meeting him - in Berkeley years ago. He was much funnier- so witty - and FUN — more than I had experienced through his novels. It was a memorable afternoon: Colm Toibin is a great author —-and a great man!
Even during Toibin’s darkest hours — his funny bone disposition shined through.
His ‘love’ shines through.
Highly recommended > there is ‘nothing’ not to like.
When I was younger I thought readings by authors, about authors were a waste of time. Never read the forwards or afterwards either. As I got older, wiser maybe, I realized that knowing about an author's life, or what they think is important enough to share, enriches the experience of reading their books.
I've read many of this authors fictional books and I now see how he uses humor and wit, to lighten what can only be serious occasions. He narrates his own audio and I very much enjoyed his voice. A frightening health scare, his past, his youth, his family and much more. This was a terrific read, or listen I guess, by a terrific author.
In this collection, Tóibín Colm writes about what matters to him - his life (survival of cancer and its treatment); the home and community in which he grew up, aspects of which appear in his novels; the Catholic church and religion more widely; being a homosexual man; being Irish and literature and art.
It seems to me they are all central to his identity, as he would list its components himself - Irish, brought up Catholic, gay and a writer.
The first essay is, perhaps obviously given its subject matter, more deeply personal than the others. It begins with an opening sentence designed to grab: 'It all started with my balls' and then takes us through the lighter stages of treatment for testicular cancer to the very dark places that engulfed him as treatment progressed, and finally to his return home after being discharged from hospital, apparently for the last time.
The title essay A Guest at the Feast is a mini-collection of memory fragments of Inniscorthy, where he grew up, and was published as a Penguin short, whereas nearly all the other essays have appeared in London Review of Books. His father was a teacher, his mother a reader who appears to have had more influence on his early reading life than his father did. Her willingness to break some at least of the controls imposed for religious reasons becomes apparent the day he finds three banned books on top of her wardrobe. this section on censorship resonated with me - Australia in the 1950s and 60s had a ferocious censorship regime and I recall as university student being given special permission to borrow 6 banned books from the university library as they were set for discussion in our politics tutorials:Lady Chatterly's Lover, Tropic of Cancer,Moll Flanders, James Baldwin I can't remember which one now, but it set me off to read several of his works. And then we had free for all discussion about censorship.
In A Guest at the Feast, Toibin introduces most of the themes that will recur in the later essays and that appear in some of his novels - the Church's stifling control over the education system, social and sexual mores and its power in the political and legal systems in areas such as banning abortion and contraception on one hand and blocking action against abusive priests.
He reflects on the great changes that have been made in Ireland as the power of the Church has weakened following the disgrace of the shocking sex scandals. There is an essay on recent popes, including Pope Francis II who, it appears, supported murderous regimes in his native Argentina early in his career. I hadn't taken this on board before.
Always, Toibin is deeply connected with writers and writing and I've really enjoyed reading how and where he has used elements from his youth in his novels, and which writers he engaged with at different stages.
His essay on Marilynne Robinson revolves around her success as a novelist who dares to tackle the subject of God. God, he says, poses a real problem for the novelist: 'The novel is happier in a secular space where people suffer from mortal ailments and failures, where their ambitions are material, their hopes palpable. Changing bread and wine into body and blood could be done in a novel, but it would be hard, and shouldn't be tried twice. ... Nevertheless, because I was born in Ireland and brought up Catholic, I have a serious difficulty when it comes to the creation of characters who live entirely in a secular universe.'
His discussion about religion in fiction in general, and Robinson's Gilead series in particular is sufficiently intriguing, illuminating and entertaining that I am going to buy a copy of the book after I've returned the library copy.
I've also appreciated the different tones of his writing depending on his subject matter. I'll read more.
In a series of eleven essays written between 1995 and 2022, Colm Toibin takes his readers on a journey through Ireland of the past and present, he takes a close, often personal look at the Catholic Church in Ireland and in Rome to try to work out the problems the entire world has learned of in recent years. Sex abuse by priests, how to get “good” priests leads to wide ranging thought on policies of three popes. Other essays address literary thoughts on authors he knows/knew well: Marilynne Robinson, John McGahern and, for me at least, a far lesser known Francis Stuart.
This last essay was particularly interesting to me because it was so singular and unexpected. Ireland was neutral during WWII. Francis Stuart was a writer who went to Berlin in 1940 to teach at Berlin University. He then broadcast to Ireland from Germany from 1942 to 1944. This essay works through the life of Stuart the various effects on the literary community and how Toibin dealt with the complex morality of this man.
My favorite essay is the titled one which was released on its own in the past. It’s a wonderful, non-linear view of moments and people in Toibin’s life. His tribute to his mother, his ability to see her essence and strength, is among the best I have read.
A different collection, a lot to chew on, not a bad thing at all.
A copy of this book was provided by the publisher through NetGalley.
This short audiobook is narrated by Toibin himself. My favorite parts included his story of meeting a very poor elderly man one Saturday morning in a pub. The man asks Toibin if he can get him a copy of John McGahern's banned book The Dark. The man turned out to be Frederick May, a composer of contemporary music. He also mention's Gaj's Restaurant on Baggot St., a famous gathering place for feminists, radicals and artistic types in the early 1970's. I visited there once and as a friend of her son who lived in Boston, was heartedly welcomed by Mrs. Gaj. I did feel that he went a bit far in his analysis of the sexual scandals involving priests in Ireland, some of whom he had known in his youth. His descriptions of Enniscorthy were familiar from his book The Blackwater Lightship and he is working on a new novel which will also center on Enniscorthy.
Like Nora Webster, this fills me full of nostalgia for my home town. Summers in Curracloe and Ballyconnigar; the excitement of the October Wexford Opera festival- they are all there- beautifully described in Colm Toibin's lyrical style.
Not a winner for me. Usually I enjoy Toibin's writing. This is a book of essays - much about his own life - which I thought would be interesting, but, for me, it wasn't. A lot about various past Pope's and religion, which I did not care for. The first essay about his testicular cancer was probably the best of the lot - serious as it is, he made that one funny.
Memoir and insight into the rich material gathered in childhood, adolescence and beyond to be utilised in his various novels. Eloquent as ever. Very Irish, unsurprisingly.
Some friends and I met Colm a few days ago in Barcelona, where he charmed each of us and told some of the stories in this collection of essays. This collection ranges from topic to topic; his experience surviving testicular cancer; being a gay man in Catholic Ireland; the abuses of the Catholic church; and his past. However, it is really a love song to Ireland with all of its messy, complicated history particularly for him, a gay man for whom the act of existing, for a large portion of his life, was a crime.
His tribute to his mother, written after she died, is probably my favorite, but I also enjoyed his reminisces of his childhood in his village, his burgeoning political awakening, and of course, his love of literature and deep references to other writers and books laced throughout, despite the topic.
A collection of essays mostly detailing Irish politics and the nuances and scandals of the Catholic Church. One has to be very interested in those topics to get the most out of this collection, which range in vintage from the 1990s to the Covid pandemic c. 2021.
I confess I didn't read them all; in particular the long title essay I found baffling (and skippable). The opening essay concerning Toibin's encounter with cancer, was excellent and focused, so it was jarring to go from that reading experience to one more meandering and broad in scope.
There are some sharply written pieces on Irish law and church scandals, resulting in sentences such as this one: The problem is that, after all that has been revealed, many of us who were brought up in the church now know that we once listened to sermons about how to conduct our lives from men who were child molesters.
Toibin is a skilled writer, passionate and articulate. This volume though assumes a certain familiarity with Irish news and politics; without that footing this reader was often adrift.
Rounded down to 3 stars, because really I am not that interested in popes.
What a treat to be allowed in to Colm Toibin’s personal past. As one of the greats of all time, in my opinion, I couldn’t be more interested in what shaped him.
This short memoir starts to answer this, in a way which is both intimate but not salacious in any way. Colm Toibin grew up in a small, close town in Wexford, Ireland - but we knew that anyway - but he was observing, always seeking to understand. He passed via Dublin as his first home outside of Enniscorthy. But the truth is, it’s not the thrill of the new, the drama of trauma, celebrity, upheaval thats the stuff of his novels....it’s his eye for humanity. I came away understanding that Toibin has spent a lifetime listening and observing. What could be better preparation for a novelist?
Particularly moving to me — and it seems my opinion was shared by the other kindle readers who highlighted the same passages — are the stories of Colm Toibin’s mother. A woman with very little formal education but a lifetime love and need for reading. It’s deeply moving as a portrait of his mother, and, implicitly, of all the women denied education throughout history - almost all of us. I can only imagine the joy his mother must have and would have felt at Colm Toibin’s utter, deserved success.
I’d love to know much, much more, about Colm Toibin’s life and I look forward to future volumes of autobiography and biography. If you love his work then I do very much recommend this book.
A Guest at the Feast (Essays) by Colm Tóibín. 3/11/22. iBook. 4/5.
The clarity of the novelist’s descriptive ability shines through essays on topics ranging from his treatment for testicular cancer starting the book, to its ending describing the joys of an empty Venice during the Covid pandemic. Especially interesting if, as I have, you have read his books based on the lives of Henry James and Thomas Mann. The body of essays examine his own writing of the small town of Enniscorthy to Dublin, from memories of a mother who always had a book on the go and how important that was for her, the poems that she and relatives would memorize and recite. The author's early adulthood, his school days and life through his eyes of his Catholic upbringing on his home life, school life and his intensive examination of his faith, how the church is run, the various popes and the various scandals. The essays range from various times during his writing life. What shines through for me is his own love of literature to the influences of place and family. “Tóibín's captivating memoir is the story of a writer coming of age and his connections between home, work and love. It is a perfect gem of a book. “ I could not agree more….
I am a big fan of Colm Tóibín's fiction, so when I saw a collection of his essays, it seemed like a "no-brainer" read to me. Unfortunately, after trying to trudge through this collection, I've learned that just because you like someone's fiction doesn't mean you'll automatically enjoy their nonfiction.
Tóibín is undoubtedly a talented and successful writer, but sometimes that isn't enough to render a boring topic interesting. This collection of essays started out with a personal-experience narrative that hit the perfect mark between funny and somber (I had hope! This captured the tone of his writing that I love), but from there, I just about drowned in verbose meanderings through papal history. Maybe it was too much Catholic school growing up, but I quite literally could not stay awake while reading these essays. In the end, I had to sadly write this collection off as a "did-not-finish" read - something I rarely, if ever, do. Until now.
That being said, I can't bear to give a writer I have a lot of respect for a one-star review, but I also can't objectively rate my reading of this collection above two stars. Some readers will genuinely really enjoy these essays - and I'm glad of that! But for others like me, maybe we're better off sticking to the tried-and-true Tóibínian fiction we already love.
Big Tóibín fan but I hadn't read any of his nonfic. A couple of these essays were some of my favourite essays I've ever read. I always find compilation essays a bit inconsistent and I felt that here too.
Esseekokoelmalle tyypillisesti lukukokemukseni oli epätasainen. Ehkä puolet käsitteli paavia ja katolista kirkkoa, outo sattuma nyt näin lähellä paavin kuolemaa.
I loved this memoir. I listened to an audible version read by the author himself. I can see where some of the scenes from his novels came from and where he got his love of literature. I want to visit Enniscorthy County Wexford . But meanwhile, I will keeping reading ColmToibin. He also had a stammer. Do an unusually high percentage of stammerers become authors?
A delightful little book. It's a nice mixture of an Enniscorthy based memoir with some insights into his student days. It's a light, quirky and meaningful read. The other essays vary - his insights into John McGahern are very enjoyable but the essay on Franis Stuart is much less so.
Overall, if you like good writing and superb cultural insights, this is a good collection of essays especially if you are interested in contemporary Irish literary figures. I am not all that educated in lesser known (on this side of the pond) Irish literary figures so it was enlightening. Most of these essays were published in the LRB (London Review of Books), thus their literary-mindedness.
However, not to mislead, many topics are addressed here, the most personal being the first essay about Toibin's bout of testicle cancer which is devastatingly harrowing. I've never read an account of cancer that gets to the nitty-gritty aspects of everyday life and the psychic/physical toll chemo can take. Losing one's interest in music for someone who is passionate about it seems an especially cruel side effect for Toibin.
Other essays cover Irish politics surrounding LGBTQ issues, his reporting on the conservative members of the Supreme Court in Dublin, gender relations/politics especially concerning his mother's life in County Wexford, and sexual abuse accounts in the Irish Catholic church. Also there is an especially enlightening essay about the current Pope who was not especially empathetic to those suffering/tortured under Pinochet's dictatorship in 1980s Argentina and who has undergone a bit of a sea change since his early days as a clergyman. Toibin is a masterful astute writer and makes any topic intriguing and intellectually satisfying.
Thanks to NetGalley and Scribner for providing early access to the manuscript.
This is a collection of essays previously published over a period of approximately 25 years, predominantly in the London Review of Books.
Like all such collections I am aware of the inconsistences of my reading experience, those items that grab me and those at which I have to work harder. In the case of this collection it was the first, Cancer: My part in its downfall, and the last, Alone in Venice, which I found particularly poignant. Both very personal stories, the first packs a punch from the opening line "It all started with my balls", exploring the author's experiences with testicular cancer. While the second finds some positives and comparisons amongst the the fear or Covid lockdowns ending reflectively "we will wear our masks and whisper about small mercies and think about light and shade."
In between there is much, perhaps as you would expect, about Ireland, being gay and of course the Church and Religiosity - in Tóibín's opinion "God represents a real problem for the novelist". There are also insights and references to authors, cultural and artistic works, and to the influences of place, people and life on Tóibín's own work - "All of us have a landscape of the soul, places whose contours and resonances are etched into us and haunt us."
This was an interesting collection which I enjoyed dipping in and out of albeit sometimes more so than others. And of course, above all, there is the writing, Tóibín's prose.
Colm Toibin is, from my perspective, a fascinating person whose writing is always worth a read. Here he provides a fascinating insight into the influences that shaped him as he grew up in Enniscorty and Wexford. His imagery is so graspable that you are quickly taken to the settings he describes. In a relatively brief passage he addresses the paedophilia of too many priests in the Catholic Church in Ireland.
I read these essays one at a time. Over several weeks. This is one smart guy. I’m in awe of his mind, of his thought processes, of the way he writes sentences and build paragraphs and whole stories.
This is a beautifully written collection of essays.
I picked it up specifically for the middle third of the book with the essays that covered the three most recent pontiffs of the Roman Catholic Church: John Paul II, Benedict XVI, and Francis I. As expected I found those pieces to be especially poignant and moving. Like the author, Colm Toibin, I too grew up Catholic and gay. It's long been established that the Catholic church is a flawed institution with prehistoric views on many things including but not limited to: homosexuality, women, child abuse, abstinence, etc.
That said, what I think is so powerful about Toibin's writing on this topic is how he is able to convey how despite growing away from the church, it still informs and provides the lens through which he processes and sees the world. I myself no longer consider myself Catholic, and yet I could still recite my Sunday prayers and a litany of saints without even thinking. The church on the one hand, taught me valuable life lessons, while at the same time it taught me that it was not a place for people like me. A childhood brought up in the church is not easily forgotten, and the trauma of growing up understanding that you do not belong or are welcome imprints itself on an individual. This is the discordance of the church - how is it that an institution that preaches faith, hope, and love also be the source of so much pain for so many other people? In any case, Toibin is an astute and sensitive writer and his musings on the topic are terrifyingly powerful.
Other essays here cover his childhood in Ireland as well as his battle with testicular cancer.
I have never read any of Toibin's works of fiction, however after this lovely collection, I would absolutely love to read more.
Toibin is one of my very favourite living authors. This is a collection of articles previously oublisged in varioys places but mainly in the London Review of Books. It opens with an article about Toibin's cancer treatment which is both powerful and entertaining. There folliws a number of articles dealing with the catholic church in particular its link to homosexuality and abuse. I found these insightful - disturbing and dark at times. Later there are some reviews of authors who im unfamiliar with. I enjoyed the final article aboutvexpliringcart in Venice during Covid times. A book only really for those who already know Toibin's work and appreciate his fine prose.
I picked this book because I read The Magician last year, a book that I enjoyed very much and I wanted to know a little bit more about the author.
The first part of the book is a memoir about the author’s life, partly concerning his bout with cancer and partly about his growing up Ireland as a gay Catholic. I found this part of the book interesting.
The middle portion of the book is more about the Roman Catholic Church and the popes of the latter part of the the 20th and the first part of the 21st centuries. While this part of the book might be interesting to someone who grew up Catholic. For me, it was difficult to stay awake listening to the author’s reading of the book, though he reads with a lovely Irish brogue.
The book ends with three essays:
1. There are reminiscences about the author’s relationship with the Irish novelist Francis Stuart who once asked him “if I did not believe that democracy was merely a system in which scum could come to the top.” After our own 2016 election in the US, one might ponder that question today. 2. The next essay is about the Irish novelist John McGahern, who influenced the author. 3. The final essay is about the author’s stay in Venice during the height of the Pandemic. This essay was especially interesting since the author wrote a factionalized biography of Thomas Mann, The Magician. Mann’s “Death in Venice” is about a visit to the Italian city during the time of a pandemic and this essay is about the author’s visit to Venice during the most recent world pandemic.
A mixed bag of essays from a favourite author - always so readable but some of more interest than others for me. Highlights were his writing on his time with cancer shot through with horror and pain and bits of life saving humour. So many insights and powerful musings on a wide range of topics. A delight.
3.5* This one certainly caught my attention with the first line drawing me in: “It all started with my balls.” That first essay is about a health scare, and the other essays are all about more things that make up his identity: growing up Catholic, being Irish, being gay. Parts of it were incredibly interesting. The one called “Putting Religion in its Place” was really interesting— the complexity of religion, the Catholic faith, spirituality, especially in light of the scandal, and all of the different popes in recent history. It reminded me of another book I want to read called Monsters: A Fan’s Dilemna that explores our relationship with people who did great things but who were later found to be deplorable in some basic human way.
Other parts didn’t keep my attention, maybe because I have very litttle knowledge of Irish culture.