I’m judging a 2020 fiction contest. It’d be generous to call what I’m doing upon my first cursory glance—reading. I also don’t take this task lightly. As a fellow writer and lover of words and books, I took this position—in hopes of being a good literary citizen. My heart aches for all the writers who have a debut at this time. What I can share now is the thing that held my attention and got this book from the perspective pile into the read further pile.

Doyle is such a master at dialogue and so much of scene setting and characterization or rather so much of novel making is in dialogue..

For example:

Immediately. She was exactly the same. Even from that far off. Even though she was only a shape, a dark, slim shape—a silhouette—in the centre of the late-afternoon light that filled the glass door behind her.
—She was never slim, I said.
He shrugged.
—I don’t even know what slim means, really, he said.
He smiled.
—Same here, I said.
—I just said it, he said.—The word. She was a tall shape—instead.
—Okay.
—Not a roundy shape.
—She’s aged well, I said.—That’s what you’re telling me.
—I am, he said.—And she has.

This book feels like a one act play. Musing on love and mortality, two men discuss their past, present, spouses, and lovers while bar hopping in Dublin. A very Irish novel.

This was a difficult read just because it was so dialogue heavy, but if you can get past that, this book has much to offer. Two friends meet to catch up in a Dublin pub. They reminisce, share pieces of their present lives, and as the night progresses more and more drinking ensues. They talk about life and love and where they are now. This books offers some laughs and some moments of drunken speech being unintentionally profound. I enjoyed this book, but I think it's for a very particular audience. There's a good amount of Irish slang in here which may be hard for some to follow. However, I really enjoyed this book because it feels like a nod to Irish storytelling.

As much as I have enjoyed Doyle's books in the past, I just could not get into this one. If this were a short story, I think I would have found it rather entertaining. If I had been sitting in a bar with these dudes, I may have enjoyed the conversation, providing they were covering my beer. But, with my shortened pandemic attention span, with has made my social life even more dismal, listening to these dudes reminisce about old flames and current spouses, for a brief while, my current situation didn't seem so damn bleak, even if the nights feel as long as this novel.

Playing out over the course of one evening between friends, Love by Roddy Doyle also flashes back to the origins of the friendship between Davy and Joe, their youth spent in the pubs of Dublin. Through the evening they analyze their loves, their lives, and their current circumstances, while challenging each others memories of similar "pub crawl" evenings far in the past. Told mostly through their conversations, by the end of the novel the reader has a great sense of their personalities and lives, as well as a sense of their love for their families, their pubs, and eachother.

"Everything outside was an act, an endurance. Inside the pub--that was where life was. Nothing mattered, and that was all that mattered. We entered it. I thought we'd stay there."

Two old friends, both of them past middle age, meet up for drinks and start an evening of conversation that lives in the center of the Venn diagram of philosophy, lasciviousness, wry Irish humor, and tragedy. It is, in short, everything you'd expect out of a really great modern Irish novel, and more. Stock up on a couple of 6-packs of Guinness to drink while you read, for an immersive experience! :)

Warning to those who don't read a lot of modern Irish novels: there's not much of a plot, which is standard. The whole story takes place within one evening, and in the course of a single conversation (plus the narrator's flashbacks).

And yet.

It's a snapshot of life, which is revealing in so many ways--masculinity, romantic love, sexual desire, fidelity, memory, friendship, parenting, aging, the loss of a parent, the art of telling a good story, Irishness, and the definition of "home" are all explored in ways that are so nuanced and tender, but nevertheless powerful. This isn't going to be a book for everyone, but I surely loved it.

(I read an advanced reader copy via Netgalley.)

I like seeking out Irish authors, and this was actually my first Roddy Doyle title. Interesting format and character exploration; only complaint is it could’ve been trimmed down a bit to avoid some repetitiveness.