Book Review: The River Capture

 The River Capture, by Mary Costello

    Costello's first novel, Academy Street, was a must read for me because it told about a young Irish immigrant woman to the United States, who moved to the Inwood neighborhood in New York City.

     This could have been about my mother, my aunts, many of  my cousins. We all lived in Inwood, blocks away from Academy Street. We grew up in Inwood Park and went to Good Shepherd Church. 

    I could relate.

    This book, not so much. 

    

    Instead of a poor, lonely Irish woman looking to get by as an immigrant, The River Capture tells the tale of a Irish man returning to small town Ireland. Luke O'Brien, a Dublin teacher and Joycean scholar, decides to chuck his city life to return home, take care of an aging aunt, fix up the family homestead in Waterford, and write a book about the man who both enamors and haunts him.

    But he accomplishes none of this. Instead, he mopes.

    The problem here is not the setting, the writing, nor the enchantment with Joyce. Instead, it turns into a tale of a whiny, entitled man who wishes his life was more exciting; his friends more engaging, and his problems -- with his neighbors, his family background, and his discovery of the past -- weren't so damn mundane yet so complicated.

    The writing is wonderful, if a bit strained. About midway through, Costello switches from a basic narrative style to a recitation of O'Brien's daily activities. It's a bit unclear why she does this, and it is quite confusing at first, but the reader soon becomes used to it. It reads like a diary entry by a silent narrator, but it becomes an effective means of telling the story.