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rachael27's review
The writing of this completely over-rides the story to the point where I couldn’t follow what was actually going on anymore. It felt way more that the writer was doing an exercise in descriptive writing to the most extreme point rather than tell a real story, sentences were needlessly flamboyant and unnecessary.
xoxochrly's review against another edition
The last 100 pages are delightful, but it takes 200 to get there
ainepalmtree's review against another edition
delighted to see more wonderful fiction from young irish women writers - long may this trend continue. i enjoyed this book a lot. no, i don't think the plot is especially compelling, however i think it offers up a great portrait of a young woman's life in contemporary dublin, and certainly kept me engaged. while its blurb pitches it as a book about a romantic affair, i think its more accurate to say that its a portrait of a recently married woman, who is reckoning with all that a new life with a husband entails (one of those things being memories of a past love). Campbell writes beautifully and brings wonderful little moments and detail to life - i look forward to reading whatever she writes next.
brianamorrison's review against another edition
challenging
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
I had a hard time getting into this one but I really appreciate the writing style. The story was ambiguous, the main character unlovable, and the ending… well I’ve just finished the book and haven’t made up my mind about the ending. This book was different from anything I’ve read before and I found it interesting, though not lovable.
adamskiboy528491's review
3.0
“Life does not have a narrative. This is only a way of choosing to see and usually for sinister purposes. To explain oneself and give substance to the greater dangerous lie of consensus and common sense.” [b:This Happy|51003516|This Happy|Niamh Campbell|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1580899448l/51003516._SY75_.jpg|75852291] by [a:Niamh Campbell|19995136|Niamh Campbell|https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/nophoto/user/u_50x66-632230dc9882b4352d753eedf9396530.png] is almost compared to the likes of Joyce’s Ulysses (or maybe a bit of Beckett & McGahern) for contemporary romance fiction. Alannah, the protagonist, does an interior monologue recounting her dalliance with a married writer in parallel to her later marriage to a dashing teacher spread over two timeframes. It appears to be the women needing men plot that is the staple of romantic fiction - there’s a fashionable age gap thing going on in the first relationship and some sexual content.
The chapters were short & easy to read, which made it more unputdownable. I felt like this was one for Man Booker Prize material. 2020 brings us yet another debut novel by a female Irish writer. After Anna Burns, Nicole Flattery, Sally Rooney and we have this talented writer. Because of this, people may complain that it’s just a rip-off of other contemporary Irish novels that have been published recently, but this one was an authentic piece of fiction that captured the heart of so many relatable and vital issues.
gorecki's review
3.0
Love and anger are often so similar: they are pumped by the same heart, they make you bite and break dishes. With time they cool off, cool down, you spend a few years as if nothing ever happened. And then a chance encounter on the street jolts your heart, your veins start pumping all the feelings back into your system, and there it is again: that feeling.
I loved the way Niamh Campbell handles the performative side of being in love with that one person you cannot or should not have. Being with someone forbidden, in secret, behind closed doors, allows you to play a role you might not necessarily play otherwise: you can be strange; artistic; hot; deep; mysterious. Anything you wouldn’t be if you knew you had more than just a short time on a stage in front of that one man, and no one else around. Like it’s a movie production and you’re giving it your all so you can win an Oscar. Then whatever it is you were having, an affair, a relationship, an itch, is over and you get your Oscar, and it turns out it’s heavier than you expected and you realise you’ll have to drag it around with you your whole life. The curtains go up, he’s gone now and you’ve moved on as well and are playing another role these days, but every once in a while you still remember every freaking embarrassing line that you let slip. “Amn’t I the greatest thing you’ve ever seen?” How stupid can one be when young? I still shiver when I think of it.
This Happy was jumpy in time and locations, maybe even a bit scattered, like the brain of someone trying to decide if they’ve done the right thing or not. It moved rapidly, then slowed down almost to a standstill and made me lose my pace and think of all the cringey things I myself have done in my past. All my acts of stupidity that felt brave, or deep, or artistic. It was elegantly worded at times, then stalling and slow at others. I lost my grasp over the last 80 pages and found it hard to get back into it, but it was beautiful to look back at 23-year-old me and think: you poor unfortunate soul, what ever got into you then? Why wouldn’t you just let go of either them or yourself?
This book is a risk: you need to have a certain kind of baggage for it.
I loved the way Niamh Campbell handles the performative side of being in love with that one person you cannot or should not have. Being with someone forbidden, in secret, behind closed doors, allows you to play a role you might not necessarily play otherwise: you can be strange; artistic; hot; deep; mysterious. Anything you wouldn’t be if you knew you had more than just a short time on a stage in front of that one man, and no one else around. Like it’s a movie production and you’re giving it your all so you can win an Oscar. Then whatever it is you were having, an affair, a relationship, an itch, is over and you get your Oscar, and it turns out it’s heavier than you expected and you realise you’ll have to drag it around with you your whole life. The curtains go up, he’s gone now and you’ve moved on as well and are playing another role these days, but every once in a while you still remember every freaking embarrassing line that you let slip. “Amn’t I the greatest thing you’ve ever seen?” How stupid can one be when young? I still shiver when I think of it.
This Happy was jumpy in time and locations, maybe even a bit scattered, like the brain of someone trying to decide if they’ve done the right thing or not. It moved rapidly, then slowed down almost to a standstill and made me lose my pace and think of all the cringey things I myself have done in my past. All my acts of stupidity that felt brave, or deep, or artistic. It was elegantly worded at times, then stalling and slow at others. I lost my grasp over the last 80 pages and found it hard to get back into it, but it was beautiful to look back at 23-year-old me and think: you poor unfortunate soul, what ever got into you then? Why wouldn’t you just let go of either them or yourself?
This book is a risk: you need to have a certain kind of baggage for it.
amygibbs99's review against another edition
4.0
people seem to dislike this book but i enjoyed it and related to the disdainful cynical central character <3 misery loves company
not 5 stars due to inertia
not 5 stars due to inertia