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I read and really enjoyed Siege of Krishnapour, so I was quite looking forward to this. It just didn't hold my attention very much. The first part felt like a farce, in a good way as in, it was very funny but I guess I just wasn't in the mood for it. I might return to this at a later date.
What a delight! Funny, sad, and with some real weight to it. Highly recommended.
[b:Troubles|256279|Troubles|J.G. Farrell|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1386925687s/256279.jpg|1391244] is the first novel in the Anglo-Irish writer JG Farrell's Empire Trilogy: three tangentially connected works that highlight different facets of British colonialism. Farrell died young, as he drowned at the age of 44, but this 1970 book got some semi-recent attention when it won the Lost Man Booker Prize in 2010, which was established to retroactively honor a book that missed out on being eligible for the Booker due to a rule change that year. So when you pick up [b:Troubles|256279|Troubles|J.G. Farrell|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1386925687s/256279.jpg|1391244] with all that in mind, as I did, it certainly has a big legacy to live up to, especially when you don't even know what the book itself is about.
It turns out that it's about an English man called Brendan, who's referred to in the third person narration as 'the Major,' who, after the end of the war in 1919, journeys to Ireland to figure out whether or not he's actually engaged to a woman who he's been exchanging romantic letters with, Angela Spencer. Her home is a crumbling mansion of a hotel called the Majestic, where she lives with her Protestant family as well as several eccentric guests. Upon arrival the Major expects to be greeted by Angela herself, but instead he finds himself swept up instantly into her strange family dynamic, with her aggressively Unionist father's pervasive fear of Sinn Féin (the political party advocating for an Irish republic) hovering in the background throughout the novel.
[b:Troubles|256279|Troubles|J.G. Farrell|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1386925687s/256279.jpg|1391244] is essentially a sardonic odyssey of the mundane - a reverse Nostos of sorts in which our protagonist journeys away from home and navigates a culture that's plagued with a completely different social climate than his own. It's also a kind of Gothic subversion, Farrell giving us a Manderley-like setting that's meant to symbolize the British Empire, the characters willfully in denial about its crumbling roof as well as the rising insurgency that's taking place in their country.
It drags and overstays its welcome at times (much like the guests in the hotel), but for the most part [b:Troubles|256279|Troubles|J.G. Farrell|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1386925687s/256279.jpg|1391244] is a riotously funny (and occasionally tragic) satire. While there isn't much of a plot, Farrell leads the reader with measured prose through a dizzyingly bizarre series of encounters that highlight the absurdity of the Spencers' myopic view of Irish society. It's a bit of a project to get through, but it's worth it for the sharp, incisive writing and commentary on colonialism that still feels relevant half a century later.
It turns out that it's about an English man called Brendan, who's referred to in the third person narration as 'the Major,' who, after the end of the war in 1919, journeys to Ireland to figure out whether or not he's actually engaged to a woman who he's been exchanging romantic letters with, Angela Spencer. Her home is a crumbling mansion of a hotel called the Majestic, where she lives with her Protestant family as well as several eccentric guests. Upon arrival the Major expects to be greeted by Angela herself, but instead he finds himself swept up instantly into her strange family dynamic, with her aggressively Unionist father's pervasive fear of Sinn Féin (the political party advocating for an Irish republic) hovering in the background throughout the novel.
[b:Troubles|256279|Troubles|J.G. Farrell|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1386925687s/256279.jpg|1391244] is essentially a sardonic odyssey of the mundane - a reverse Nostos of sorts in which our protagonist journeys away from home and navigates a culture that's plagued with a completely different social climate than his own. It's also a kind of Gothic subversion, Farrell giving us a Manderley-like setting that's meant to symbolize the British Empire, the characters willfully in denial about its crumbling roof as well as the rising insurgency that's taking place in their country.
It drags and overstays its welcome at times (much like the guests in the hotel), but for the most part [b:Troubles|256279|Troubles|J.G. Farrell|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1386925687s/256279.jpg|1391244] is a riotously funny (and occasionally tragic) satire. While there isn't much of a plot, Farrell leads the reader with measured prose through a dizzyingly bizarre series of encounters that highlight the absurdity of the Spencers' myopic view of Irish society. It's a bit of a project to get through, but it's worth it for the sharp, incisive writing and commentary on colonialism that still feels relevant half a century later.
3 stars because I can objectively see that this is a good book, although it was not for me. Some interesting moments of discussion about the Irish War of Independence, but ultimately a book/person mismatch.
I liked this book, found it well written and funny. My major complaint is that there were too many cat deaths for my liking. One is too many, but 100+ is just excessive.
informative
mysterious
slow-paced
The literary equivalent of a string quartet playing while the Titanic sank.
I enjoyed the last 50 pages or so, but the first 400 weren't really worth it.
A great hotel of former glory slowly decaying as the country and Empire crumble and flare - the personal jealousies, fears and madness reflecting the conflicting news of the day. Good book 0 want to read his others.
This is not my kind of book. Nevertheless, it is witty and an interesting portrayal of the ordinary lives in the Irish countryside during the Irish War for Independence.