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November 10, 2021

Book Review

That Old Country Music, by Kevin Barry


  • Where I bought this book: The Book Loft, Columbus, Ohio
  • Why I bought this book: Kevin Barry may be Ireland's best current writer
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    To get a sense of Kevin Barry's Ireland, read two successive stories in this collection -- Who's-Dead McCarthy, and Roma Kid.

    The first revolves around death and is light and funny. The second is about life but is sad and melancholy. Both, however, are classic illustrations of the art of writing a short story, and quintessential examples of Barry's exquisite work.

    In his latest collection, Barry gifts us 11 tales of Irish life by featuring the character at the center of the story. The title story, for instance, is told through the thoughts of a 17-year-old pregnant girl as she awaits in a decrepit van -- and "clawed at the greasy vinyl of the seat" -- for her older finance to return from robbing a local gas station. "It was the second Monday of May. She was little more than four months pregnant. ... (He) was 32 years old and it was not long at all since he had been her mother's finance." 

    You can learn a lot about someone in 14 pages.

    Barry is in a class by himself in the present age. Within Ireland's history of world-class writers -- James Joyce, Anne Enright, Oscar Wilde, Maeve Binchey, William Butler Yeats, Seamus Heaney, Samuel Beckett, Brendan Behan, among others -- Barry has written himself into the pantheon.

    In stories that are less than 20 pages, Barry introduces, presents, and concludes the essence of a life amid hard times. In Who's-Dead McCarthy, an old man who has a preoccupation with death sets himself up as a town crier to inform his small town who has passed on -- with wit, charm, and tears. 
You'd see him coming on O'Connell Street -- the hanging jaws, the woeful trudge, the load. You'd cross the road to avoid him but he'd have spotted you, and he would draw you into him. 

    In Roma Kid, a young immigrant girl leaves her family in despair and travels the country looking for food and a new life.

Her mother had told her nothing but the girl knew that soon the family would be sent home again and she would not go back there. She was nine years old and chose for her leaving the red pattern dress and zipped her anorak over it.

    Both are narratives and character sketches, tightly and extraordinarily written, that leave you laughing our loud and crying in hope and despair. You intimately know these people, their dreams, their desires and their fears.

    In most of the writings here, the actual story is limited or is pointless. What is important is Barry's style, his descriptions, and his characters. His words are meticulously chosen, sculptured with care, and with preternatural sense. He shows a variety of voices, yet his characters are familiar as a favored aunt or hated uncle.

    Read this book. Savor it. Re-read it again and again and discover anew the sheer pleasure of great writing.

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