#AW80Books: Ruin and Redemption – Lisa McInerney’s ‘The Glorious Heresies’
Having spent some time lolling about in a reading torpor, I had begun to suspect that I had either totally lost my ability to concentrate or, worse, fallen out of love with fiction. At times like these, extreme measures are called for. I needed a book that would grab me by the scruff of the neck, demand my every waking moment’s attention and then spit me out the other side, blinking into the daylight, wondering ‘What the hell happened there?’
Lisa McInerney’s The Glorious Heresies is such a novel, and thanks to Pembrokeshire’s Library service, I was able to inject some lifeblood and adrenaline to my reading, in my hour of greatest need. Set in Cork, The Glorious Heresies also qualifies as another stop on our ‘Around the World in 80 Books’ Reading challenge. (You can see where we’ve ‘traveled’ so far here).
The novel follows the lives of various characters struggling to scrape by in the dark underbelly of the city. Grabbing the first heavy object to hand when surprised by an intruder, Maureen finds herself with a dead body on the kitchen floor and a bloody ‘holy relic’ in her hands. She calls her son, Jimmy, a gangster from the upper echelons of Cork’s criminal fraternity. Luckily for her, this isn’t the first time he’s had to arrange a clean up of this sort – in his line of work it comes with the territory.
Cork City isn’t going to notice the first brave steps of a resolute little man. The city runs on the macro: traffic jams, All-Ireland finals, drug busts, general elections. Shit to complain about: the economy, the Dáil, whatever shaving of Ireland’s integrity they were auctioning off to mainland Europe this week. But Monday lunchtime was the whole world to one new man, and probably a thousand more besides, people who spent those couple of hours getting promotions or pregnancy tests or keys to their brand-new second-hand cars. There were people dying, too. That’s the way of the city: one new man to take the place of another, bleeding out on a polished kitchen floor.
Due to his mother’s involvement, Jimmy doesn’t entrust the clean up to his usual crew, but enlists the help of Tony, an old pal who is down on his luck. Left a widower and father to six children after the death of his wife, Tony has since sought consolation in the bottle and been free with his fists with his oldest son, Ryan. Trusting Tony to sort out the mess proves to have been a risky strategy, and when the intruder’s erstwhile girlfriend, Georgie tries to trace him, Jimmy gets jittery and tries to make Tony pay for his botched job.
As the plot unfolds we are drawn into the lives of Tony’s son, Ryan and his girlfriend Karine. Ryan’s childhood experiences of loss and violence have had a huge impact on him, leaving him vulnerable to further abuse from those around and switching his trajectory from a path of future prospects to a life of crime. His relationship with Karine is a breath-takingly realistic evocation of the passion and instability of first love. We also get to know Georgie better, and how she became enmeshed in a vicious circle of prostitution and drugs. While the novel contains more gangsters than you could shake a stick at, it is Tony and Ryan’s neighbour, the middle-aged, evil, opportunistic busybody, Tara Duane, that will stay with me as one of the most vividly drawn monsters I have ever seen in print.
Despite the relentless misery of many of the characters’ situations, The Glorious Heresies is, surprisingly, not a depressing novel. It is heart-wrenching in places, and I cared desperately about many of the characters, but the dark comedy that peppers the novel provides balance and relieves the overwhelming sense of helplessness. The writing is dizzying – sharp and spiky prose, and the dialogue rolled off the page as speech heard rather than words read.
Ultimately, the novel is filled with hope. After facing the grim realities of life lived at the cruddiest edge of humanity, McInerney reminds us that if we look hard enough we just might find the odd glint of goodness gleaming amidst all the grime and gravel.
Loved the Glorious Heresies! I’ve just bought her new one, high on the TBR. 🙂
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It really was a Corker! (see what I did there?) It’s one of those novels that I envy people who’ve not yet read it as they have such a joy to come. I can’t wait to read her next book!
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Great review – you’ve absolutely captured my experience of reading this novel! Isn’t Tara Duane absolutely dreadful? A brilliant portrait of a monster, as you say. Glad you’re out of your slump 🙂
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Thank you! Wasn’t it a blinder? And yes, Tara Duane has to be up there as one of the most despicable creatures ever conjured by words.
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Thank you for reminding me how much I love this book! As a fellow reading slump sufferer, it’s great to be rememinded by those genuinely glorious quotation that the problem is my state of mind and not that there actually aren’t loads of fantastic books out there.
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I’m glad it’s not just me experiencing a reading slump! I’ve never felt like this before and can only put it down to the most extraordinary and desperate times we are living through. It felt so good to once more be so totally immersed in the world of a novel that I was unaware of needing to eat or sleep. I shall now return to Powell’s Spring in the hope that the bumbling antics of Widmerpool will keep my newly kindled reading fire well fuelled!
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I’m glad you got your fiction mojo back!
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Thank you! 🙂
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Based on the cover and your review, I would think you’d be a big fan of Irvine Welsh’s work–very dark, but brutally funny, too. If I get in a funk, I try an audio book or some nonfiction. Sometimes, it seems like I’ve heard all the stories to hear, so some good nonfiction can teach me something new in a narrative fashion. Audio books are mostly about getting the fiction in using a different method, and to see if a different voice from my own helps.
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Do you know, I think you might be right! I have a couple of Welsh’s novels on my shelves that I’ll have to give a whirl. I do love audiobooks. I tend to listen to them when I’ve got a craft project on the go, but I should extend that to those times when I’m low on motivation, too.
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Oh! Oh! Which Welsh novels do you have?!
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Well, I know for definite that I have Trainspotting as I saw it the other day. I’m fairly certain I have a couple more but as all my books are filed by colour I can’t remember exactly which ones. I’m sure I’ll stumble across them in time and when I do, I shall stick them on my Tbr pile!
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I will definitely get this, and probably also from the library! I love things set in Ireland, it looks great. It’s weird how fragile concentration for these things can be. I read a piece in the paper with an author that said when he’s working to a strict routine, he finds a deeper appreciation and appetite for all art, which I think rather like with monks and such, a routine outer life is nourishment for a rich inner life, and the ability to focus. Meanwhile, we have kids, bills, general elections, work, etc, scuppering it all!
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Not to mention Moomin bubble shooter game on my phone! 😉
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I’m glad you liked this book so much and that it has put a stop to your reading funk. I was surprised too that I felt hopeful at the end, after so much misery throughout the book. I think that was masterfully done.
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I know – it’s a remarkable novel, isn’t it? 🙂
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I’m glad to hear you liked this so much – and that it pulled you out of your slump!
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Thank you – I’m so relieved. It’s definitely put a spring back in my reading step!
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