Brooklyn by Colm Tóibín

I started this book right after reading Station Eleven and that was a mistake.  Brooklyn’s prose just didn’t hold up.  Although, to be fair, Station Eleven was a hard act to follow. 

Brooklyn centres around the story of Eilis, a young (early twenties?) Irish girl who leaves her family in the early 50’s to seek out better opportunities in America.  And she did.  It was really straightforward!

I think if you suggested this book as a novel for a Catholic church book club, you’d have a winner on your hands.  The church features prominently and you can tell that the author himself is “of the people” (I can say that because so am I, haha).  He really nails the RC factor.  What I can’t tell is if everyone in the 50’s was really this pious or if that’s just the way Colm writes ‘em.  Like, what 20 year old girl is checking everything with her priest?  I don’t think my own Oma did that and she’s both a big RC fan and of the same era as this character. 

What made this book only ok was that it tells you exactly what’s going on.  There is never any subtext.  Most of the writing was along the lines of “She thought this was what he was thinking.  She was wrong, he thought this.  Then they went to the beach”.  I mean, obviously the author did a better job than me, but you never had to wonder what was going on or what people were thinking.  He really just spelled it out for you.

Overall, this was pleasant and forgettable – the fantastic A Tree Grows in Brooklyn or the Namesake does a much better job of bringing the pre-hipster Brooklyn or the immigrant experience to light.  I can actually see how this story would make a better movie than book – the lack of narration would lend it a bit more mystery and gravitas.

It was fine.  I give it three Saturdays at confession out of five.  Now let us all turn to our neighbours and offer a sign of peace.