On Canaan's Side by Sabastian Barry

This book is beautiful, wonderful, magical--I must restrain myself here before I start gushing like a teenager. (Not to denigrate teenagers--I envy their instant and overwhelming enthusiasms and wish I could experience like feelings more often.)

Sabastian Barry is my FAVORITE LIVING WRITER, and this newly published book more than fulfilled my expectations. Reading Barry (who is Irish) is exactly like reading Irish poet W. B. Yeats; his language is so beautiful it can make you cry. Never mind the story, which is also wonderful. The very words themselves have a rhythm and an imagery that evoke sadness and joy, often at the same time. And it all sounds so natural, not forced or self-consciously clever. As witness to this, please read this somewhat lengthy passage, which tells of the thoughts of a witness at the bedside of a man soon to die.

"His face looked like it was ticking, like a clock. The clock had lost its hands long since, but somewhere in the old face there was a ticking, or a whirring, like the works gathering for its chime. Perhaps I was so sensitized now, so alert, I could actually hear the blood pulsing through his neck. The old heart wearying itself with a last weariness, a final effort. Truth is everything. We do not know it, we do not know how to get it, we do not have it in our possession, God will slap it on us like a police warrant as we arrive breathless at the gates, it is entirely beyond us, truth, bloody truth, but it is everything." I rest my case. And this is just a small sample, and probably not the best one, of Barry's use of language, rhythm, and imagery.

On Canaan's Side reports the history of 89-year-old Lilly Bere, as she writes the story of her life prior to ending it voluntarily. She tells of her brother's death in World War I, of her escape to America upon learning that she and her husband-to-be have been put under a death sentence by Irish nationalists during the struggle for independence from Great Britain, and of her life in America, always haunted by the threats of violence and war. She endures great sadness and tragedy, but also experiences great joy.

In an entirely understated and implied way, this novel is a powerful indictment against war. Five times Lilly finds herself separated from those she loves by war and its repercussions.

I cannot say enough good things about this book: it is beautifully written; it is not stylistically innovative but it rings of great truth; it tells a satisfying story, even though it is not a happily-ever-after, as some seem to crave. It is the best book I have read this year.

Enough already. End of gushing.