![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jazzy_daveGareth Carr "The Boy From The Sea" (Picador)
I loved this haunting story with its beauty and grace, about fracture and repair. In 1973 Donegal, Ireland, a family is split by jealousy while coping with a changing world.
Narrated by a voice representing ‘we,’ the village, gives a timelessness to the tale.
A baby is discovered at the seashore and taken in by a Irish fishing village. The babe is shifted from house to house until Ambrose Bonnard tells his wife Christine and son DeClan they will keep him, naming him Brendan.
It is an act of charity by a family with just enough, with hopes of having money which never comes their way. Christine’s sister Phyllis is especially judgemental. She needs help with their aging father–why take on an outsider?
Declan instantly hates this interloper. He sees his father’s love for the baby that should be his.
Brendan grows into a strange child, never fitting in. He looks up to DeClan who only rejects him. He wanders alone all day, stopping to visit other lonely souls, giving them a blessing. “We were barrels adrift at sea,” the narrator says, “yet we also felt a benevolent force might be at work, a helpful current, and that was a comfort.”
Ambrose is a quiet man who fishes the old way. His friend buys bigger boats and takes in bigger hauls. Bad luck, changing economics, and lack of funds forces Ambrose to take work on the mainland, separating the family. When Christine worries about the boys, he says they will ‘sort it out.’
I loved these characters, so beautifully wrought. A storm at sea and the resulting intimate moments between Ambrose and Christine were especially moving.
The babe found in a floating barrel, the contention between brothers for the father’s love, recall to mind biblical stories. The novel has an element of the fairy tale without ever reading like a fantasy. It has a satisfying ending. Worth reading.
I loved this haunting story with its beauty and grace, about fracture and repair. In 1973 Donegal, Ireland, a family is split by jealousy while coping with a changing world.
Narrated by a voice representing ‘we,’ the village, gives a timelessness to the tale.
A baby is discovered at the seashore and taken in by a Irish fishing village. The babe is shifted from house to house until Ambrose Bonnard tells his wife Christine and son DeClan they will keep him, naming him Brendan.
It is an act of charity by a family with just enough, with hopes of having money which never comes their way. Christine’s sister Phyllis is especially judgemental. She needs help with their aging father–why take on an outsider?
Declan instantly hates this interloper. He sees his father’s love for the baby that should be his.
Brendan grows into a strange child, never fitting in. He looks up to DeClan who only rejects him. He wanders alone all day, stopping to visit other lonely souls, giving them a blessing. “We were barrels adrift at sea,” the narrator says, “yet we also felt a benevolent force might be at work, a helpful current, and that was a comfort.”
Ambrose is a quiet man who fishes the old way. His friend buys bigger boats and takes in bigger hauls. Bad luck, changing economics, and lack of funds forces Ambrose to take work on the mainland, separating the family. When Christine worries about the boys, he says they will ‘sort it out.’
I loved these characters, so beautifully wrought. A storm at sea and the resulting intimate moments between Ambrose and Christine were especially moving.
The babe found in a floating barrel, the contention between brothers for the father’s love, recall to mind biblical stories. The novel has an element of the fairy tale without ever reading like a fantasy. It has a satisfying ending. Worth reading.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}