Grace Quinn is an Englishwoman living in rural Ireland. Isolated by religion and circumstance, she endures both an abusive husband and a strained relationship with her son, Martin, whose open homosexuality her husband refused to accept. After an act of desperation, reeling with doubt and denial, she seeks out her son in Dublin. Keith Ridgway "affectingly renders the separate sanctuaries of mother and son . . .and lights the distance between them" (The New Yorker).
Review coming.. tight, claustrophobic, rainy. Great writing, people hiding secrets, wary of others, on the run, in cramped city flats or sodden, dark country lanes. Occasional, unexpected kindness too (the landlady with his mum) - reminds me slightly of Pritchett.
This is a wonderful, slow telling of the coming apart of a life - or the shared life of the characters central to the book. Certainly, it's tempting to focus on a causal dynamic in the nature of the marital relationship of the main character, but to do so would be to turn the book into a morality tale, and I'm not sure that would capture the whole story. Likewise, a focus on the dynamics resulting from the decision to commit a crime would be to neglect the larger tale. More central is the exploration of the life/lives at the center of a true unhappiness, and how that affects all. Ridgway takes his time, and tells the story in a way that becomes the peeling away of the layers of the central character and her son, in a way that truly explores the depth of the human condition, while also pursuing the ripple effects on the people around them. A very richly rewarding read!
The compelling story grabbed me on page one, but it's the way the author develops Grace's character that kept me reading. I'm tempted to call her a tragic figure, which would be true, but sadly the situation that leads to her fall is all too real.
Beautiful prose, well-developed and complex characters, nicely structured. It all comes together into a compelling tale of love and longing and disappointments, but with a mother and son as the key figures. A fascinating glimpse of Dublin along the way.
A beautiful book, exquisite writing, with complex and well developed characters. The writer excels at depicting the atmosphere of the city, the emotions, as a reader you become enveloped in this tragic story.
För några år sedan skrev litteraturkritikern John Self att han var Keith Ridgways perfekta läsare. Att ingen annan därför kunde få samma kick av att läsa Ridgway som han. Han skrev det med glimten i ögat, men jag förstår precis vad han menar för jag känner samma.
The Long Falling är Ridgways första roman från 1998, och kom enligt honom själv till innan han hittat sin röst. Det stämmer bara delvis. Läs sidan 18, där Ridgway i tre vindlande stycken nålar hela bokens essens. Om att falla. Om att låta sig själv falla. Från en hög höjd. I en mindre skicklig författares hand vore det en klyscha, så inte i Ridgways.
Med trovärdig röst berättar han om Grace, en medelålders kvinna, som en gång i ett ögonblick förlorade ett barn och som efter årtionden av misshandel tillåter sig att förlora fotfästet, för att falla är enda vägen bort.
Redan innan Ridgway till fullo hittat sin röst var han en betydande författare. Vore han svensk hade priserna regnat över honom, nu finns han inte ens översatt. Ska jag tipsa om en författare du inte känner till men absolut ska läsa är det Ridgway. Beroende på vem du är kan du antingen börja med Animals, Hawhtorn and Child eller The Long Falling. Men vad du än gör, läs läs läs.
Beautifully written, and paced as if the story were taking place in real time. I felt as if I were there, smelling the rained-on earth and feeling the damp cold of Dublin.
Colm Toibin said it better than I can: "This is a murder story and a love story, and an original and dramatic insight into the clash of cultures and moralities in contemporary Ireland. The pacing is superb; the novel is written in spare, clean prose."
Having spent my childhood in Dublin, this was a lovely journey through my memories of the place. The book is well written -- a page-turner, with a lot of tension.
Un livre étrange, avec cette manie de passer d'un personnage à l'autre à chaque chapitre. Il faut sans doute être irlandais pour vraiment comprendre de quoi il s'agit
4e de couverture : "Dans l'Irlande débousolée d'aujourd'hui, le portrait d'une femme aux abois poursuivie par l'irréparable".
Un très joli roman, à l'écriture fine , ciselée, un brin piquante. Un roman sur l'Aveu, le Tabou et la violence faite aux femmes.
Keith Ridgway est considéré comme l'un des écrivains irlandais contemporains les plus talenteux.
De lecture très facile et dont le sujet ne peut laisser indifférent.
L'histoire se déroule en 1992 sur fond d'une affaire qui a remué le pays : celle d'une jeune fille de 14 ans, violée et enceinte. La Constitution lui interdisait de quitter le pays pour se faire avorter.
Cette affaire a abouti à une modification de la loi sur l'avortement (qui reste cependant interdit sauf si la personne risque d'attenter à ses jours).
L'héroïne représente une nouvelle Irlande qui tente peu à peu de se débarasser de ses carcans, un pays où les femmes rappellent qu'elles existent...
Brilliant book! Renews my faith in literature. Indeed, the best book I read in 2011. The characters were vividly individualized, even as they were sucked into the river of history.
I really want to read some of his later books. Learned about him from reading his "Goo Book" excerpt in the New Yorker. How do I become a fan?
J'ai été très déçue par ce roman. Ca avait pourtant bien commencé : une histoire intéressante, originale, bien écrite. Des personnages bien marqués et attachants. Le déroulement de l'histoire est agréable, les flash-backs sont bien construits mais la fin est décevante, c'est vraiment dommage.
A dilemma as to how to rate this. I've absolutely no doubt it was beautifully written and contained some magically well-expressed observations, but I found Grace and her situation to be irredeemably depressing, which curtailed my enjoyment, limiting it to a three star.
An utterly depressing book. Depressing, because it is well written, on the one hand; but more because of the slow unfurling of the wreckage of several people's lives.