Likable, yet a disappointment: an awkward story that seems patched together from spare bits of the previous trilogy.
Prequel to O’Carroll’s Agnes Browne trilogy (The Granny, 200, etc.).
Agnes Browne was the plucky Dublin housewife who became a widow in the early 1960s and raised her six children through hard work, good luck, and loyal friends. But widowhood came late in her life, and O’Carroll now takes us farther back to show us the unusual family Agnes came from—on her mother Connie’s side at least. Connie Parker-Wills was the daughter of a wealthy Protestant industrialist who ran the iron foundry where Agnes’s father Bosco Reddin worked. But when Connie fell in love with Bosco and announced her intention to marry him, she was briskly disinherited and thrown out of the Parker-Wills home. She and Bosco lived happily in tightened circumstances with Agnes and their second daughter Dolly until Bosco (a labor organizer) was killed in a riot during a strike. Agnes then took on the responsibilities of looking after her increasingly feebleminded mother and rather wild sister (eventually sent to juvenile detention for shoplifting). She was supported through all of this by her classmate and best friend Marion Delaney, who helps Agnes open a produce stall in the Moore Street market and encourages Dolly to emigrate to Canada and get a new start. The best thing that happens to Agnes is meeting Redser Browne, a cheerful, handsome scamp of a man who loves her almost as much as he loves gambling and drink. Hopeless as a provider, Redser is still devoted, warmhearted, and charming—and soon he and Agnes are arranging a wedding (with Agnes several months pregnant). Connie Reddin’s one desire is to see Agnes married in the same bridal dress that she and her mother wore, but priests in the 1950s were strict about who could wear white. Can Agnes charm her way?
Likable, yet a disappointment: an awkward story that seems patched together from spare bits of the previous trilogy.Pub Date: March 1, 2003
ISBN: 0-670-03114-3
Page Count: 224
Publisher: Viking
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 1, 2003
BOOK REVIEW
Miller makes Homer pertinent to women facing 21st-century monsters.
A retelling of ancient Greek lore gives exhilarating voice to a witch.
“Monsters are a boon for gods. Imagine all the prayers.” So says Circe, a sly, petulant, and finally commanding voice that narrates the entirety of Miller’s dazzling second novel. The writer returns to Homer, the wellspring that led her to an Orange Prize for The Song of Achilles (2012). This time, she dips into The Odyssey for the legend of Circe, a nymph who turns Odysseus’ crew of men into pigs. The novel, with its distinctive feminist tang, starts with the sentence: “When I was born, the name for what I was did not exist.” Readers will relish following the puzzle of this unpromising daughter of the sun god Helios and his wife, Perse, who had negligible use for their child. It takes banishment to the island Aeaea for Circe to sense her calling as a sorceress: “I will not be like a bird bred in a cage, I thought, too dull to fly even when the door stands open. I stepped into those woods and my life began.” This lonely, scorned figure learns herbs and potions, surrounds herself with lions, and, in a heart-stopping chapter, outwits the monster Scylla to propel Daedalus and his boat to safety. She makes lovers of Hermes and then two mortal men. She midwifes the birth of the Minotaur on Crete and performs her own C-section. And as she grows in power, she muses that “not even Odysseus could talk his way past [her] witchcraft. He had talked his way past the witch instead.” Circe’s fascination with mortals becomes the book’s marrow and delivers its thrilling ending. All the while, the supernatural sits intriguingly alongside “the tonic of ordinary things.” A few passages coil toward melodrama, and one inelegant line after a rape seems jarringly modern, but the spell holds fast. Expect Miller’s readership to mushroom like one of Circe’s spells.
Miller makes Homer pertinent to women facing 21st-century monsters.Pub Date: April 10, 2018
ISBN: 978-0-316-55634-7
Page Count: 400
Publisher: Little, Brown
Review Posted Online: Jan. 22, 2018
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 2018
PROFILES
A modern day fable, with modern implications in a deceiving simplicity, by the author of Dickens. Dali and Others (Reynal & Hitchcock, p. 138), whose critical brilliance is well adapted to this type of satire. This tells of the revolt on a farm, against humans, when the pigs take over the intellectual superiority, training the horses, cows, sheep, etc., into acknowledging their greatness. The first hints come with the reading out of a pig who instigated the building of a windmill, so that the electric power would be theirs, the idea taken over by Napoleon who becomes topman with no maybes about it. Napoleon trains the young puppies to be his guards, dickers with humans, gradually instigates a reign of terror, and breaks the final commandment against any animal walking on two legs. The old faithful followers find themselves no better off for food and work than they were when man ruled them, learn their final disgrace when they see Napoleon and Squealer carousing with their enemies... A basic statement of the evils of dictatorship in that it not only corrupts the leaders, but deadens the intelligence and awareness of those led so that tyranny is inevitable. Mr. Orwell's animals exist in their own right, with a narrative as individual as it is apt in political parody.
Pub Date: Aug. 26, 1946
ISBN: 0452277507
Page Count: 114
Publisher: Harcourt, Brace
Review Posted Online: Nov. 2, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 1, 1946
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