A celebrated novelist offers personal essays on religion, literature, his Irish upbringing, and his cancer scare.
“All of us have a landscape of the soul, places whose contours and resonances are etched into us and haunt us,” Tóibín writes in this magnificent volume. These previously published essays show the landscape of the author’s soul, mapping out events that have shaped him as a person and writer. He begins with the most devastating imaginable: “It all started with my balls,” he begins an essay that recounts his ordeal of having “cancer of the testicles that had spread to a lymph node and to one lung.” Grim humor punctuates the piece, as when he describes the time he couldn’t get to the hospital during an emergency because Pope Francis was visiting Dublin and had clogged the streets. The last three popes are the focus of the book’s coruscating middle section. A 1995 essay on John Paul II describes the belief that, under his pontificate, “there will be no change, and no discussion about change,” regarding women priests, bans on contraception, and more—a belief that proved correct. The other middle essays focus on the Catholic Church’s attempts to blame its many sex-abuse scandals on “homosexuality, not celibacy,” and on the authoritarian Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio, who, as Pope Francis, suddenly became the “poster boy for informality, humility, and good-natured cheerfulness.” In the title piece, Tóibín movingly recounts his upbringing in Ireland and what it was like “to be gay in a repressive society.” Essays on writers Marilynne Robinson, Francis Stuart, and John McGahern and a moving epilogue on the pandemic conclude the book. Throughout, the poetry of Tóibín’s prose is as impressive as always. In that title piece, he writes that his mother was “what most of us still write for: the ordinary reader, curious and intelligent and demanding, ready to be moved and changed.” Readers like her will savor every page of this book.
Erudite essays from one of the world’s finest writers.