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alannawithafada's review against another edition
adventurous
challenging
emotional
funny
hopeful
informative
inspiring
lighthearted
reflective
relaxing
5.0
numbat's review
Interesting literary analysis and legal analysis but too much cancer stuff, too much Nazis and too much pedophile priests for what I was expecting to read.
helengoose's review
challenging
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
mysterious
reflective
sad
medium-paced
5.0
stucifer_'s review
3.0
(copy received via goodreads giveaway)
I had not read any of Colm Tóibín's work before, although he had been on my radar for a while as someone I would probably like. This is a bizarre place to start, I admit, and not the likely one to win me over to his works. I recognize that. There is a lot of Catholicism here, and while Tóibín engages with it as he does everything here - with a patient and curious thoroughness - I'm just not all that interested in his, or anybody's, Catholicism. Although even as I say this, I realize I was subtly drawn in, so that now my reflection rises up to contradict what I thought my impression was; thinking back on individual essays, I'm telling myself "no, you actually found the essay about John Paul II engaging, and the Ferns Report awful yet compelling." The truth, I think, is that these adjectives are too strong, yet not entirely incorrect. Nothing here did I want to turn away from - well, two of the three essays in Part III do get a bit laborious, actually. But just as Tóibín's writing has a tone of calmness, of patiently assessing all angles, of withholding judgment, so too do I find my reactions calmed, my judgment withheld. Therefore my general reactions, while positive, are also lukewarm at most.
All this said, it does the author no favors that I found no personal connection to any of the topics of the essays here save the first one (no coincidence that I have the strongest reaction to that one in remembrance). I do enjoy the lyricism and gentleness of his prose, and I appreciated the patience and thoroughness most in the essays in which he approaches difficult subjects, such as the one on John McGahern. Especially when so much of contemporary discourse is heightened and superlative, to read someone calmly assess their own judgments, to gather the evidence they can, to reassess, and to wonder, and to take their time about it, is itself a gift and a reminder.
I do plan to read more of his work, both other nonfiction and delve into his novels. Let's see if this collection provided me the entry to his works, after all.
I had not read any of Colm Tóibín's work before, although he had been on my radar for a while as someone I would probably like. This is a bizarre place to start, I admit, and not the likely one to win me over to his works. I recognize that. There is a lot of Catholicism here, and while Tóibín engages with it as he does everything here - with a patient and curious thoroughness - I'm just not all that interested in his, or anybody's, Catholicism. Although even as I say this, I realize I was subtly drawn in, so that now my reflection rises up to contradict what I thought my impression was; thinking back on individual essays, I'm telling myself "no, you actually found the essay about John Paul II engaging, and the Ferns Report awful yet compelling." The truth, I think, is that these adjectives are too strong, yet not entirely incorrect. Nothing here did I want to turn away from - well, two of the three essays in Part III do get a bit laborious, actually. But just as Tóibín's writing has a tone of calmness, of patiently assessing all angles, of withholding judgment, so too do I find my reactions calmed, my judgment withheld. Therefore my general reactions, while positive, are also lukewarm at most.
All this said, it does the author no favors that I found no personal connection to any of the topics of the essays here save the first one (no coincidence that I have the strongest reaction to that one in remembrance). I do enjoy the lyricism and gentleness of his prose, and I appreciated the patience and thoroughness most in the essays in which he approaches difficult subjects, such as the one on John McGahern. Especially when so much of contemporary discourse is heightened and superlative, to read someone calmly assess their own judgments, to gather the evidence they can, to reassess, and to wonder, and to take their time about it, is itself a gift and a reminder.
I do plan to read more of his work, both other nonfiction and delve into his novels. Let's see if this collection provided me the entry to his works, after all.