Customer Reviews

An Evening of Long Goodbyes: A Novel

5 star:		(5)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

Twenty-four-year-old Charles Hythloday resides at Amaurot, his family's estate some ten miles outside of Dublin, with his sister Bel, an aspiring actress, and their Bosnian housekeeper Mrs. P. Charles wiles away his days in apparent indolence and drunkenness, mourning a love affair gone sour, watching Gene Tierney movies into the night, overseeing the construction of a folly on the property. But to Charles's mind his purpose in life is a serious one: he means to revive "the contemplative life of the country gentleman, in harmony with his status and history." For the first third of An Evening of Long Goodbyes Charles is thus an amusing anachronism, a Wodehousian character thrust into a less polite modern world. This makes for some wickedly funny writing, both in dialogue and narrative. (Out to a seedy pub with Bel and her Golem of a boyfriend Frank, Charles looks around with some unease at his fellow drinkers. "Was I the only one in evening wear?") But one senses that Charles's retreat from society is motivated by an underlying sadness.

Unfortunately, Charles's idyllic lifestyle cannot last. Events conspire to push him out of Amaurot and into productive society, where he engages in activities--paying work, for example--that were previously unthinkable. Charles grows as a human being, developing empathy, for example, and he is eventually compelled to confront the imperfections of his childhood at Amaurot, which he had long glorified.

While Charles's development is interesting to watch, he becomes a less interesting character as he changes from a wry commentator on a society that is alien to him to a productive participant in that society. The book, too, loses charm as it moves from the farce of its early pages to the melodrama of Charles's post-Amaurot life. Still worth reading, a lighter book that kept Charles in tails and gimlets would surely have garnered five stars.

Reviewed by Debra Hamel, author of Trying Neaira: The True Story of a Courtesan's Scandalous Life in Ancient Greece

This one defies easy categorization. A disconcerting mixture of satire, melodrama, fantasy and farce. Unlike several of the reviewers, I felt that the account of Charles lolling about his ancestral home was forced and stagey. The dialog spoken by the pantomime characters is predictable and empty. Charles's take on the Irish economic boom, the so-called Celtic Tiger, however, is accurate, deft and very funny. His completely underwhelmed response to Ireland's ballyhooed economic miracle is worth the many speed-ups, slow-downs and improbablities that drive the over-heated plot.

This book really hit the spot for me. If Bertie Wooster were to wander into the world of "TrainSpotting", this would be the result....A witty, moving mixture of P.G. Wodehouse, Evelyn Waugh, Nick Hornby, Irvine Welsh, and Stephen Fry. Like Wodehouse's Bertie Wooster stories, this book is written in the first person, which makes it possible for every sentence to be funny. Ranks very high among the wine and spirits. Highly recommended.

Not the comic masterpiece it is advertised to be, AELG is nevertheless an accomplished and enjoyable first novel. The premise is that Charles Hythloday, son of an (erstwhile) well-to-do Irish family, has decided that he is not cut out for work of any kind and has dedicated himself to reviving the dying job title of aristocratic country gentleman. Modern times being what they are, however, the Hythloday family has fallen on hard times and Charles finds that he must get a dreaded job. If this were a Wodehousian novel (as advertised), hilarity would ensue, involving bizarre complications and amusing misunderstandings. If this were an unimaginative novel, Charles would struggle through a few jobs before settling down in one, discovering along the way what he's been missing in the rarified world of the estate, gaining in self-esteem, realizing the inherent nobility of the working classes, and experiencing the transformative, even redemptive powers of good, honest work.

This is not that novel. Nor is it particularly Wodehousian in tone. It reads more like Chekhov trying to "do" Wodehouse but eventually giving up. The premise is amusing, and the plot is chock-full of odd twists and turns, but it is to the author's credit that he does not follow the well-worn path this set-up leads to. Influenced heavily by Chekhov (in fact the plot mirrors that of "The Cherry Orchard," and Chekhov is invoked by the characters themselves throughout the novel), this book explores serious themes such as our inability to truly know or understand even those closest to us; the nature of hero worship and the damage it does to both worshipper and worshipee; the sometimes dubious benefits of "progress"; and the (mostly literary) myths of the nobility of the poor and the family as haven, among others.

The characters in AELG all seem powerless to improve their lots in life, and spend their days in alcohol-soaked, profound melancholy (is the author playing with Irish stereotypes, or are his characters quintessentially Irish?). Unraveling is the overall theme of this novel. It is a lament for a lost way of life, a vanished dream. Neither comedy nor fully tragedy, AELG manages to keep the reader off-balance throughout. It is this complexity - the exploration of literary, psychological and social themes in an elegiac tone lightened with flashes of humor that make this novel memorable, and make Paul Murray an author to watch.

This book was so incredibly funny. The main character, Charles, is sure to win your heart over with his innocence and naivety to the real world. He is charming and amazingly unaware of his surroundings because he's so self-absorbed. This high-society brat ends up learning about life the hard way from an unlikely character, Frank, who is Charles' complete opposite, and you can't help but cheer this friendship on. Paul Murray gives such a vivid description of Charles that you can literally see how out of place he is in his surroundings, which in turn will make you crack up trying to visualize it all. This was one of those books that when you finish it, you want to pick it right back up again and start all over.

This is one of the funniest novels I've ever read. On the cover of a lot of books it's stated that a novel is funny, but few ever live up to the hype. Sure, many are told in an amusing tone, but very few make you laugh aloud on a consistent basis. But Mr. Murray, with his wry Irish wit, delivers on page after page. The characters are well fleshed and vulnerable, the plot is straight ahead and convincing, and the humor comes from all angles. If you love British/Irish humor, or even if you don't, this is a novel not to be ignored.

The writing is graceful, light, and compelling. I couldn't wait to turn the pages to learn more of Charles, his family, and today's Ireland examined and revealed through tender humor. However, the book is more than just humor, and this is where it fails. When the book is written as humor, it is most successful. Unfortunately, the author, Murray, shifts from humor to a type of melodrama toward the end that doesn't work as well. Short-listed for the Whitbread Award? Fine and good. The beginning deserves the recognition of such a respected award. However, the disappointment of the ending rates the book a 2.

This book was addictive. I nearly had to go to hospital with ruptured stomach muscles from all the laughter. Pay up your medical insurance before you read it!

From the cover, I assumed this would be a light frothy romp through British upper class decadence, like something brittle and brilliant that Waugh or Wodehouse could type out quickly. Instead, it was about an Irish family facing hard economic times. The hero is an alcoholic slacker who is obsessed with actress Gene Tierney, who obviously represents his own mother and sister. There just aren't enough laughs in the early pages, and then the darker stuff takes over: exploited foreign workers, thieves living in squalor, a mailman who steams open everyone's letters, poverty, the heartlessness of international megacorporations.

I reached a point where I just didn't care for these characters. I wanted something impressive to happen. I didn't believe a couple of the final plot twists. I kept counting pages; 424 was just too much for me. I read the entire thing, but I wish that I hadn't.

I found this book to be kind of strange to be honest. It was mildly entertaining, but I kept wondering where it was going. The plot: a spoiled rich guy gets turned out into the cruel world and is befriended by some unlikely characters in boom time Ireland, and he settles down into a very surprising life from what you might expect - a real dull life that is. That's it. I didn't really get it. Maybe it's like James Joyce. Don't ask me.