At first I thought this book was too literary, too vague about mind and memory. By the time I finished it, I liked it a lot. The author, who is Irish, describes her feelings about her large family, her husband and daughters, her brother's suicide and his sexual abuse by his grandmother's former lover and landlord in a very mature and honest way. I felt that I encountered real thoughts and feelings, full of hatred and self loathing and regrets and love and joy.
It's amazing how seamlessly Enright wove together a variety of timeframes and imaginings. I can see why this book won the 2007 Booker award. She has another book up for an award this year.
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