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3.8 AVERAGE
3.8 AVERAGE
Poor Major Brendan Archer has survived the Great War and sets off to Ireland to visit his mysterious fiancée, Angela, at the Majestic, the hotel owned by her family.
Although he was sure that he had never actually proposed to Angela during the few days of their acquaintance, it was beyond doubt that they were engaged: a certainty fostered by the fact that from the very beginning, she had signed her letters "Your fiancée, Angela". This had surprised him at first. But, with the odour of death drifting into the dug-out, it would have been trivial and discourteous behind words to split hairs about such purely social distinctions.
He finds his blushing bride remarkably blasé at his arrival and he decides to end the engagement and head back to England. Except he can't manage to leave the crumbling Majestic, even when it becomes obvious the marriage won't take place. He ends up in a strange friendship with Angela's eccentric father, Edward; comforting and entertaining the group of elderly ladies who have taken permanent residence; reining in Angela's wild twin sisters, Faith and Charity (who are amazing); and becoming a sensible caretaker of sorts for the hotel. Meanwhile, there is significant unrest between the Catholic nationalists and the occupying British, leading to increasing violence in the area.
Troubles is very funny but also quite tragic. Major Archer manages to sort out the various troubles (!) of the residents and hotel because he's the only sensible person around, but he is often seized by ennui and despair of the futility of it all. He listens with cold and indifferent skepticism as people argue over Ireland's independence. He is tortured by an unrequited love affair that is mostly comprised of chaste walks and meaningful silences (my all time fave!). He is worn down by the war and the current state of the world but musters all that is best about being English and just plows through. He's pretty much the best. But it's not a total downer! Even when things are falling apart completely, the book is very funny. Really, actually laughed aloud, funny. And Major Archer is still young enough to be (for the most part) optimistic and hopeful.
I really loved Brendan and felt so sorry for him for most of the novel. I really hated Sarah for breaking his poor heart (but I didn't really hate Sarah because the poor girl just wanted to get out of that wretched place). In my dream ending, Brendan heads back to England and ends up marrying Charity. Faith can marry Mortimer and the four have awesome and fun times in London.
So overall, I loved it and am excited to move on to the next book in the Empire trilogy!
Although he was sure that he had never actually proposed to Angela during the few days of their acquaintance, it was beyond doubt that they were engaged: a certainty fostered by the fact that from the very beginning, she had signed her letters "Your fiancée, Angela". This had surprised him at first. But, with the odour of death drifting into the dug-out, it would have been trivial and discourteous behind words to split hairs about such purely social distinctions.
He finds his blushing bride remarkably blasé at his arrival and he decides to end the engagement and head back to England. Except he can't manage to leave the crumbling Majestic, even when it becomes obvious the marriage won't take place. He ends up in a strange friendship with Angela's eccentric father, Edward; comforting and entertaining the group of elderly ladies who have taken permanent residence; reining in Angela's wild twin sisters, Faith and Charity (who are amazing); and becoming a sensible caretaker of sorts for the hotel. Meanwhile, there is significant unrest between the Catholic nationalists and the occupying British, leading to increasing violence in the area.
Troubles is very funny but also quite tragic. Major Archer manages to sort out the various troubles (!) of the residents and hotel because he's the only sensible person around, but he is often seized by ennui and despair of the futility of it all. He listens with cold and indifferent skepticism as people argue over Ireland's independence. He is tortured by an unrequited love affair that is mostly comprised of chaste walks and meaningful silences (my all time fave!). He is worn down by the war and the current state of the world but musters all that is best about being English and just plows through. He's pretty much the best. But it's not a total downer! Even when things are falling apart completely, the book is very funny. Really, actually laughed aloud, funny. And Major Archer is still young enough to be (for the most part) optimistic and hopeful.
So overall, I loved it and am excited to move on to the next book in the Empire trilogy!
Troubles is probably my favourite book that I’ve read this year. It’s about a traumatised British soldier (‘The Major’) who goes to Ireland to meet his apparent fiance, and ends up staying in her father’s hotel for… well, for a very long time. Like the fantastic Siege of Krishnapur, the real subject of Troubles is the decline of the British Empire. But J.G. Farrell’s supreme success is rendering this through exquisite detail and through his wonderful, vivid, and occasionally comic, characters.
Troubles is part of JG Farrell’s wonderful Empire Trilogy. It is set in the aftermath of the First World War. A British major has become engaged by mistake to a woman from Ireland. He visits her at the hotel which is run by her family, where he is soon released from his obligation, but somehow he stays.
The hotel is gradually going to ruin but the staff and guests carry on, apparently oblivious, living hypnotically uneventful lives in the decaying remnants of colonial splendour. Meanwhile, outside, the world is changing. There is a sense of impending threat to the residents as the struggle for Irish independence gathers momentum, eventually penetrating even the grounds.
The guests regard all this as a kind of backdrop, something which enlivens their trips out or forms a topic of conversation over afternoon tea. They make no response – until finally they have no choice.
Farrell makes the behaviour of the characters both ridiculous and entirely believable. Confronted by crisis, by tumultuous events beyond their control, they focus on what is immediate – playing whist or planning a ball.
At their heart is the Major, an enigmatic character who appears to have retained his rank but relinquished his name. His identity was forged by the traumas of the war and he now returns to a world sleepwalking into further conflict.
This is an intriguing, bleakly funny and powerful book. Like the Major, I couldn’t tear myself away.
The hotel is gradually going to ruin but the staff and guests carry on, apparently oblivious, living hypnotically uneventful lives in the decaying remnants of colonial splendour. Meanwhile, outside, the world is changing. There is a sense of impending threat to the residents as the struggle for Irish independence gathers momentum, eventually penetrating even the grounds.
The guests regard all this as a kind of backdrop, something which enlivens their trips out or forms a topic of conversation over afternoon tea. They make no response – until finally they have no choice.
Farrell makes the behaviour of the characters both ridiculous and entirely believable. Confronted by crisis, by tumultuous events beyond their control, they focus on what is immediate – playing whist or planning a ball.
At their heart is the Major, an enigmatic character who appears to have retained his rank but relinquished his name. His identity was forged by the traumas of the war and he now returns to a world sleepwalking into further conflict.
This is an intriguing, bleakly funny and powerful book. Like the Major, I couldn’t tear myself away.
What better way to recover from the the horrors and traumas and PTSDs, or 'nerves' as they so quaintly called it back before they invented PTSD, of the First World War, than a nice quiet stay in Ireland, circa 1920? The peaceful countryside, clement weather and charming locals are like soothing balm for a troubled soul. HAHAHAHA no really the British Empire is crumbling into a shattered morass of blood and resentment and sectarian grudge fights, a bit like the hotel the Major goes to because he may or may not have proposed to the owner's daughter, a bit like Ireland in 1920 when savage Irish leprechauns began chewing at the ankles of the snotty British toffs.
Anyway, the Major's maybe-intended proves weirdly difficult to pin down before abruptly departing from the picture, leaving the Major more confused than begrieved, but a weird fascination and attraction has begun and he finds it difficult to depart, so he finds himself part of the hotel's long slow slide from decrepitude to utter ruination, and cleverly enough, the Irish War of Independence serves as an acute metaphor for this haunting portrait of the severe difficulties in the hotel trade and the Anglo-Irish tourism industry at this time.
Anyway, the Major's maybe-intended proves weirdly difficult to pin down before abruptly departing from the picture, leaving the Major more confused than begrieved, but a weird fascination and attraction has begun and he finds it difficult to depart, so he finds himself part of the hotel's long slow slide from decrepitude to utter ruination, and cleverly enough, the Irish War of Independence serves as an acute metaphor for this haunting portrait of the severe difficulties in the hotel trade and the Anglo-Irish tourism industry at this time.
Excellent, detailed, funny allegory of the collapse of the British Empire as seen in Ireland.