When
in doubt, try Irish. That's my general rule when I'm looking for
something to read. I'm a sucker for Irish authors. I can hear the
accent as I read the words. I love the names of the locales –
Enniskerry, Youghal, Clonskeagh – and I like to roll the characters
names around in my mouth – Aileen, Fiona, Fiachra.
In
Anne Enright's The
Forgotten Waltz
the Irish voice belongs to married woman Gina Moynihan as she
narrates her affair with Séan—himself married and a father. Gina
isn't exactly an unreliable narrator, but she certainly doesn't
attempt to be a sympathetic one. The affair begins in the midst of
the Celtic Tiger economy of the early 2000's, when acquisitiveness of
all kinds was the norm among Dublin's smart, affluent set, and Gina
almost seems to regard her affair as a more exciting alternative to
buying a vacation home.
But
the novel shifts backward and forward in time, so between the
passages where Gina describes the thrill
and danger of the early days of the affair are passages where she
reflects more soberly on its long term effects. Much like the Irish
economy, the relationship loses some of its luster, and collateral
damage becomes clear. Their marriages ended, Gina and Séan live in
a house that they cannot sell, and Gina reluctantly faces the effects
of their actions on Séan's daughter.
I
admire Enright's courage in presenting a character who does not ask
for the reader's sympathy. Gina is sharp and funny, sometimes
self-delusional and sometimes bracingly honest, Irish to the bone but
with elements of Emma Bovary or Anna Karenina transposed to the new
millennium.
Editor's note: Time to spruce up the website. Slight refresh to the format, but our devotion to books and reading remains steadfast.
No comments:
Post a Comment