Customer Reviews

Four Letters of Love

5 star:		(45)
4 star:		(12)
3 star:		(6)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(2)

 

 

Niall Williams has a gift. He can describe eternity from the Irish point of view. Four Letters of Love is an eminently Irish story. It assumes a Catholic or Christian perspective of man as destined for eternity and guided by Providence even though it succumbs to fatalism. Mr. Williams aptly takes one through the journey of two similar souls that begin very much apart but converge towards each other in subtle, Providential ways. What distinguishes this book from many a story of two souls is the author's rare ability to describe life through "kairos" -- that Greek word for time signifying the convergece of time and place that resembles eternity -- rather than by "chronos" (or chronological events). And that, by itself, makes Four Letters of Love a truly poetic and human story. A story of love, true Irish love. By the end on the book one feels as Irish as the characters themselves, tossed by the tides of the sea much like the Irish coasts that play such an important role in the book. Mr. Williams' grammar is a joy to read and this book should be a must in the collection of ambitious writers and those seeking to understand the Irish a bit more. I recommend it for its rare purity and for its magnificent use of the English language.

FOUR LETTERS OF LOVE is a typical story of miracle. The most memorable message out of this debut of the Irish writer is "life is a mystery, we cannot understand it. Once you accept that, it hurts less." In fact, the reading of the first few chapters does not seem to forebode any miracle or happiness. Miracle, after all, is a product of some circuitous events.

Nicholas Coughlan's father decides to quit his job in the government, abandons his family, and becomes a painter - because God has spoken to him. He leaves Nicholas and his mother behind and takes up painting in Dublin. Nicholas' mother dies of brooding over the reason why her marriage has turned cold. The little boy loses his confidence and respect in his father. As he traces the footsteps of his father and tries to make sense of this ethereal revelation to which his father scrupulously abides, he realizes that happiness for his family is not meant to come simply, that in some inexorable way his family has been singled out. Nicholas is waiting for a miracle.

When God speaks to Nicholas' father the second time he takes his life. He has sat in front of a heater and fed into it his canvases until the home burns crumbling down around him. Nicholas ponders that his father might have maddened himself with the thought that perhaps there had never been a voice from God and that the ruins of the life in which he finds himself has all been caused by his own folly. So the inconsolable truth about the Coughlans is that there has never been a call, yet nothing makes sense unless one looks at the occurrences in a grand picture. The now coming-of-age Nicholas resolves to recover the only painting that survives the fire - one that his father has given it away as a prize for a poetry contest. It possesses meaning for his life because it has not survived for nothing.

Isabel Gore lives in persistent guilt that she is responsible for her brother's fit at the seaside. She feels a prisoner of what she has done (or has not done) as weeks stretch into months and then years - nobody can shoulder for her the baggage of her heart. It begins to seem as if what has happened on the shelf of rock by the sea has eternally robbed him of speech and movement and has given no reason. Isabel too, is waiting for a miracle.

She never knows she will fall in love during the last year of high school and the love affair will have rendered her mindless about going to university. In utter insolence and insubordination the nuns at the covent school lose control of her - it is one of those moments in life when the plot jolts forward and understanding and planning vanish in a rash manner to an extent that she banishes forever the uncertainty of her feelings for the son of a Dublin tweed hat maker.

But Nicholas and Isabel are made for each other. How would they have known? The series of events that develop around these two unrelated families somehow cross one another's paths and trigger the making of a miracle. All the open-ended threads slowly converge as strangers enter each other's spheres of living in a circuitous manner. While for most of the novel we see how lives shatter with the fall of one day's light, FOUR LETTERS OF LOVE is an unforgettable tale about the illuminating power of love. It's about affirmation of destiny, love, and miracle.

With easy, almost casual, lyricism, Niall Williams spins the separate stories of two Irish families, then weaves them together to create his story of love. And like many other Irish writers, he conveys a love that is simultaneously both romantic and religious, though decidedly not ecclesiastical. When Nicholas was twelve, "God spoke to [Nicholas's] father for the first time. God didn't say much. He told [Nicholas's] father to be a painter, and left it at that...." Answering the heavenly call, the father leaves his family for long periods of time and spends the rest of his life trying to create masterpieces, finally succeeding, only to have virtually all his work destroyed by the most earthly of causes: cows. Similarly, in another family, a brilliantly musical boy, while engaging in an energetic, enthusiastic paeon of happiness is suddenly and mysteriously struck down, unable to move or speak. Both families must simply accept the seeming arbitrariness of what has happened.

As Williams develops these stories, his focus is clearly on the earthly, mundane aspects of life with its hope, its humor, and its crushing disappointments, but he conveys a strong sense that a Higher Power is "in charge," however unfathomable His actions might be to the mere mortals involved. In an ending which is part religious mysticism, part magic realism, and part pure romance, the ultimate resolution takes place, leaving the reader delighted by the happiness of some characters but uncertain at the costs to others. And we cannot help but wonder if that happiness may be only an intermission between disasters and hope that it is not.

I was in the Connemara when I borrowed this book for a read. The descriptions of the beauty there matched my incredibly unmatchable impressions. Niall Williams seemed to capture all that I had grown to know and love about Ireland and to relate it to universal truths in the twists and turnings life offers us all. The tragic poetry of loss in the over-reaching patttern of nature and life, culminating in the idea that things work out when least expected are exactly what I experienced there and what changed me forever. The prose captured me, and I savored lines, reading them over and over. There are so many different kinds of love explored and facets of each kind explored in depth: married love, love for a son, love for a daughter, for a parent, for a partner, a brother, a sister, for the land and the sea, for yourself and for the dead. I, too, could not put this book down and was luckily sick in bed and didn't have to. Thank you, Mr. Williams, for this treasure. I purchased it after reading my borrowed copy and have loaned it out twice already. I can't wait for the next one. The celebration of the power of art and music in our loves and lives cannot be expounded upon enough. Feed my soul!

I am sorry to say this after reading some of the glowing reviews from other readers, but I felt this book took itself way too seriously. The author felt the need to over analyze every situation and turn every sentence into a imagery- filled masterpiece. All the author ended up doing was writing a boring book that I forced myself to finish. When done, I asked myself, "Why did I waste my time?"

With easy, almost casual, lyricism, Niall Williams spins the separate stories of two Irish families, then weaves them together to create his story of love. And like many other Irish writers, he conveys a love that is simultaneously both romantic and religious, though decidedly not ecclesiastical. When Nicholas was twelve, "God spoke to [Nicholas's] father for the first time. God didn't say much. He told [Nicholas's] father to be a painter, and left it at that...." Answering the heavenly call, the father leaves his family for long periods of time and spends the rest of his life trying to create masterpieces, finally succeeding, only to have virtually all his work destroyed by the most earthly of causes: cows. Similarly, in another family, a brilliantly musical boy, while engaging in an energetic, enthusiastic paeon of happiness is suddenly and mysteriously struck down, unable to move or speak. Both families must simply accept the seeming arbitrariness of what has happened. As Williams develops these stories, his focus is clearly on the earthly, mundane aspects of life with its hope, its humor, and its crushing disappointments, but he conveys a strong sense that a Higher Power is "in charge," however unfathomable His actions might be to the mere mortals involved. In an ending which is part religious mysticism, part magic realism, and part pure romance, the ultimate resolution takes place, leaving the reader delighted by the happiness of some characters but uncertain at the costs to others. And we cannot help but wonder if that happiness may be only an intermission between disasters and hope that it is not.

This is quite simply one of the most beautifully written books I have ever read. Having been to Ireland, I was intrigued at the thought of reading a book set there. Never did I imagine that I would also get to enter the lyrical world of Niall Williams. If you appreciate prose that can conjur up an image with simplicity and grace, this book is for you. A must read for lovers of language.

Steeped in local Irish lore this brillianted crafted and flawlessly rendered novel is a deep meditation on the mystical nature of love and destiny. The dreamlike plot is leisurely paced, unfolding one small piece at a time as seemingly random acts and incidents build and accrue and lead to the the eventual meeting of lovers Isabel and Nicholas. FOUR LETTERS OF LOVE makes magical sense of how every moment is woven into a larger whole and that the inability to understand fate is nothing more than an inability to gain the proper perspective. There is a deep logic in this universe and everything is as it should be. There is so much in this multi-layered book. Engrossing, provocative, haunting, lyrical, wise ... and to top it off it culminates with a great payoff and a very satisfying conclusion.

This book is really more of an adult fairy tale; very dreamlike in its narration. It does, however, have beautiful prose and lyrics and is so well written by, I believe, a first-time author. It relates the bizarre relationship between a father and son, the strange behaviour of a young gifted girl and a painting that binds the characters together. At the beginning, the book was engrossing, it soon petered out towards an unsatisfactory conclusion. The book is extremely well written, but I'm not fond of one-dimensional characters and surreal storylines.

A love story set in an Ireland full of signs and wonders, the book tells the tales of Nicholas and Isabel, seemingly separate tragic stories of love and love lost that illustrate the randomness of life's trials and tribulations. But is life really random? Their intersection, seemingly random, begs the question: Is anything random, or is every step measured, does every action count?

Quite engrossing and compelling, I would have given it 5 stars but the ending, after so skillful and deft a buildup, is pathetic.

Well worth reading anyway!