Friday, October 13, 2017

The Coming of Age of a Character and a Country

I really do read novels that are not about dysfunctional Irish families, though you might not think so, given my last review, posted five months ago, of Lisa McInerney's The Glorious Heresies. Actually, both that novel and the one I'm reviewing today are equally about dysfunctional families and a dysfunctional country, Ireland, the country of many of my ancestors, a country of great beauty and great suffering, much of it at the hands of the Church.
The Heart's Invisible Furies, by John Boyne (author of The Boy in Striped Pajamas) is dedicated to John Irving, and there is more than a bit of Irving, and Dickens too, in this sprawling saga of Cyril Avery, who tells his story first from inside the womb of his unwed, sixteen-year-old mother in 1945 and then at seven-year increments until 2015. It's Cyril's wonderfully idiosyncratic, comic-tragic voice that carries the reader along on a mostly pleasurable journey, though many awful things do happen.

The novel begins with the horrifying expulsion of Cyril's mother from her local church, and the village as well, by a hypocritical, thunderously self-righteous priest who, we learn, has fathered two children himself. The villagers, including Catherine's own family, look on in passive, fearful obedience, an attitude encouraged by the Church in Ireland for most of Cyril's life. Catherine makes her way to Dublin, where she is taken in by a couple of young gay men, one of whose father beats him to death for his "perversion." Catherine gets a job and gives her child up for adoption by the Averys, an odd couple who seem to lack all parental instincts but are likable enough in their own peculiar ways, and Cyril grows up in affluent surroundings, though he is reminded over and over again that he isn't really an Avery, and he quickly learns to refer to Maude and Charles by their first names and to introduce them to others as his adoptive parents. He also realizes he is gay, and remains closely closeted, even from his best friend, Julian, with whom he falls deeply in love at the age of seven.

This sense of being an outsider even at home - though in emotional terms it's not much of a home - leads Cyril to construct a completely private interior life, but it also makes him a sharp observer of those around him who, as he grows older, come to include a large cast of supporting characters including some noted real Irish people, like the writer Brendan Behan, who appears in a particularly entertaining episode in a pub.

Cyril does try his luck at heterosexuality; he's not very good at it and his attempts have tragic consequences for the young women involved, one indirectly and one directly. These young women, like most of the characters, are well and sharply drawn, with humor and often great compassion. It is the humor that makes the book a joy to read, especially the first half, even though much of the plot is tragic or at least unpleasant. However, Cyril's coming of age mirrors that of his country, which finally legalized gay marriage in 2015, and Boyne's representation of Ireland and the poisonous influence of the Catholic Church, which inveighed against individual sin while it was, itself, mired in hypocrisy, cruelty, and corruption, is brilliant.

A little past halfway I found my patience with Cyril's narration growing thin, though, and I skipped to the last page, where I was gratified to find that he does achieve his long-sought-for happy ending.

I received a review copy of this book in return for a thoughtful (I hope) and honest review.