From Publishers Weekly
This sketchy novel by Doyle ( The Van forthcoming from Viking; starred PW review, May 25), the second in his trilogy about a working-class Irish family, is almost all dialogue, which would be a clever device if the dialogue were not written in transliterated Irish accent ("yeh" for "you," "Jaysis" for "Jesus"). Fortunately, some endearing characters and a number of hysterically funny lines make this an enjoyable read. The narrative focuses on the Rabbitte family's eldest daughter, who has become pregnant after being raped by a friend's father, although she never recognizes the incident as rape. Sharon is determined to bear the child, referred to in Irish slang as a "snapper," and raise it alone. Although her conversations in pubs with her friends and at home with her family illustrate her position in society and often amuse as well, it is clear from the first chapter that her parents accept her choice, so the story lacks conflict. Even her struggle to conceal the identity of the baby's father seems assured to succeed from the start. One of the more touching details is her father's buying a book about women's anatomy and--better late than never--educating himself about pregnancy and female sexuality. In his own clumsy way he growspun intended. sg along with his daughter.
Copyright 1992 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From Library Journal
Dublin playwright Doyle's first novel, The Commitments (Vintage, 1989), told the story of Jimmy Rabbitte Jr.'s formation of Ireland's first soul band and went on to become a popular film. These two volumes continue the saga of the Rabbitte family in the mythic working-class Dublin neighborhood of Barrytown. The Snapper concerns the unplanned pregnancy of the eldest daughter, delineating nine months of sparring between Sharon, who refuses to reveal the baby's father, and Jimmy Sr., the clan's vulgar, witty patriarch. Among its many other virtues, it offers a sensitive fictional narrative of pregnancy. The Van picks up a year or so later. Jimmy Sr. is now unemployed, his family is growing up, and gloom has set in. Consolation comes when his best friend Bimbo also becomes "redundant" and the two go in together on a filthy, used fish-and-chips van. Their riotous adventures give a new spin to the notion of male bonding. Brilliantly constructed from the details of everyday life, both novels are made up almost entirely of dialog: sharp, crackling, relentless vernacular speech that never patronizes the characters. This is great comic writing that makes you laugh for pages yet keeps you aware that you could, instead, be crying.
- Brian Kenney, Pace Univ. Lib., Manhattan Campus, New YorkCopyright 1992 Reed Business Information, Inc.
