A History of Loneliness
Bestselling author John Boyne's A History of Loneliness tells the riveting narrative of an honorable Irish priest who finds the church collapsing around him at a pivotal moment in its history.
Propelled into the priesthood by a family tragedy, Odran Yates is full of hope and ambition. When he arrives at Clonliffe Seminary in the 1970s, it is a time in Ireland when priests are highly respected, and Odran believes that he is pledging his life to "the good."
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Community Reviews
John Boyne can do no wrong in my eyes, another impeccably written novel that gripped me while dealing with some very difficult topics. The protagonist reminded me a lot of my uncle who was a priest, lovely but totally disconnected from reality, shy, content in his cocoon, servant to hierarchy (not unlike the army, you do what you are told).
To my mind, this is nearly a perfect book. The story and characters are thoroughly absorbing, the tone is close to perfect throughout, the writing is masterful, and the book unfolds beautifully.
So, all that praise in mind, a few things worth noting:
- It is certainly a very dark book, with outcomes ranging from sad to tragic for almost every character. But as I said above, the tone of the book helps elevate it. Without losing a sense of the gravity of what’s happening, there is enough levity to keep it from being a wallow.
- Odran’s credulous innocence does seem like quite a stretch, and there were times I found myself pretty frustrated both with him and with the book. By the end of the story, though, I thought this character flaw was both credible and powerfully thought-provoking. It was nothing as simple as saying “Well, he was in denial”—there was something more complicated and interesting at work, and it deepens the novel. As a reader, though, it occasionally took some tenacity for me to put up with it along the way. The fact that I was enjoying the writing is probably the only reason I did so.
- The one part of the book that rang a bit flat was Odran’s time in Rome, especially the hinted assassination of the pope. But the exposition that Boyne achieved through those sections helped tie Odran’s story to a much larger narrative, and again, I think it made the novel more powerful overall. And it never bothered me that much, in any case.
So, all that praise in mind, a few things worth noting:
- It is certainly a very dark book, with outcomes ranging from sad to tragic for almost every character. But as I said above, the tone of the book helps elevate it. Without losing a sense of the gravity of what’s happening, there is enough levity to keep it from being a wallow.
- Odran’s credulous innocence does seem like quite a stretch, and there were times I found myself pretty frustrated both with him and with the book. By the end of the story, though, I thought this character flaw was both credible and powerfully thought-provoking. It was nothing as simple as saying “Well, he was in denial”—there was something more complicated and interesting at work, and it deepens the novel. As a reader, though, it occasionally took some tenacity for me to put up with it along the way. The fact that I was enjoying the writing is probably the only reason I did so.
- The one part of the book that rang a bit flat was Odran’s time in Rome, especially the hinted assassination of the pope. But the exposition that Boyne achieved through those sections helped tie Odran’s story to a much larger narrative, and again, I think it made the novel more powerful overall. And it never bothered me that much, in any case.
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