What do you think?
Rate this book
A History of Loneliness
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."
Forty years later, Odran's devotion is caught in revelations that shatter the Irish people's faith in the Catholic Church. He sees his friends stand trial, colleagues jailed, the lives of young parishioners destroyed, and grows nervous of venturing out in public for fear of disapproving stares and insults. At one point, he is even arrested when he takes the hand of a young boy and leads him out of a department store looking for the boy's mother.
But when a family event opens wounds from his past, he is forced to confront the demons that have raged within the church, and to recognize his own complicity in their propagation, within both the institution and his own family.
A novel as intimate as it is universal, A History of Loneliness is about the stories we tell ourselves to make peace with our lives. It confirms Boyne as one of the most searching storytellers of his generation.
Forty years later, Odran's devotion is caught in revelations that shatter the Irish people's faith in the Catholic Church. He sees his friends stand trial, colleagues jailed, the lives of young parishioners destroyed, and grows nervous of venturing out in public for fear of disapproving stares and insults. At one point, he is even arrested when he takes the hand of a young boy and leads him out of a department store looking for the boy's mother.
But when a family event opens wounds from his past, he is forced to confront the demons that have raged within the church, and to recognize his own complicity in their propagation, within both the institution and his own family.
A novel as intimate as it is universal, A History of Loneliness is about the stories we tell ourselves to make peace with our lives. It confirms Boyne as one of the most searching storytellers of his generation.
352 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 4, 2014
About the author
John Boyne
62 books12.5k followersI was born in Dublin, Ireland, and studied English Literature at Trinity College, Dublin, and Creative Writing at the University of East Anglia, Norwich. In 2015, I was awarded an Honorary Doctorate of Letters by UEA.
I’ve published 14 novels for adults, 6 novels for younger readers, and a short story collection. The Boy In The Striped Pyjamas was a New York Times no.1 Bestseller and was adapted for a feature film, a play, a ballet and an opera, selling around 11 million copies worldwide.
Among my most popular books are The Heart’s Invisible Furies, A Ladder to the Sky and My Brother’s Name is Jessica.
I’m also a regular book reviewer for The Irish Times.
In 2012, I was awarded the Hennessy Literary ‘Hall of Fame’ Award for my body of work. I’ve also won 4 Irish Book Awards, and many international literary awards, including the Que Leer Award for Novel of the Year in Spain and the Gustav Heinemann Peace Prize in Germany. In 2015, I was awarded an Honorary Doctorate of Letters from the University of East Anglia.
My novels are published in 58 languages.
My 14th adult novel, ALL THE BROKEN PLACES, a sequel and companion novel to THE BOY IN THE STRIPED PYJAMAS, will be published in the UK on September 15th 2022, in the US and Canada on November 29th, and in many foreign language editions in late 2022 and 2023.
I’ve published 14 novels for adults, 6 novels for younger readers, and a short story collection. The Boy In The Striped Pyjamas was a New York Times no.1 Bestseller and was adapted for a feature film, a play, a ballet and an opera, selling around 11 million copies worldwide.
Among my most popular books are The Heart’s Invisible Furies, A Ladder to the Sky and My Brother’s Name is Jessica.
I’m also a regular book reviewer for The Irish Times.
In 2012, I was awarded the Hennessy Literary ‘Hall of Fame’ Award for my body of work. I’ve also won 4 Irish Book Awards, and many international literary awards, including the Que Leer Award for Novel of the Year in Spain and the Gustav Heinemann Peace Prize in Germany. In 2015, I was awarded an Honorary Doctorate of Letters from the University of East Anglia.
My novels are published in 58 languages.
My 14th adult novel, ALL THE BROKEN PLACES, a sequel and companion novel to THE BOY IN THE STRIPED PYJAMAS, will be published in the UK on September 15th 2022, in the US and Canada on November 29th, and in many foreign language editions in late 2022 and 2023.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,879 reviews
August 14, 2020
i just moved to ireland, so i cant think of a more perfect reread. <3
_____________________________
my heart is aching right now. john boyne has the unparalleled ability to take a character, who couldnt be any more different from me, and make me feel such emotion for them. what a powerful talent that is for an author, and an even more amazing experience for the reader.
i know next to nothing about the catholic church. other than having a few friends who go mass with their families on holidays, the catholic church really has no effect on my life. but that did not stop me from being touched by odrans story, his struggle, his loneliness.
how difficult it must have been/must be for so many actual priests, who have had to experience odrans story in reality. i cant imagine the amount of faith it must take an individual to continue on in their calling after such dark misdeeds shake everything they thought they knew and believed. there has always been such a focus on the uncountable number of young victims (and rightly so) but i have never given much thought about how the priests who did nothing wrong must have also been affected.
gosh. what an emotionally raw and morally difficult story - a story of loneliness, faith, tenderness, trials, and guilt - to get through. simply heartbreaking. simply phenomenal.
↠ 5 stars
_____________________________
my heart is aching right now. john boyne has the unparalleled ability to take a character, who couldnt be any more different from me, and make me feel such emotion for them. what a powerful talent that is for an author, and an even more amazing experience for the reader.
i know next to nothing about the catholic church. other than having a few friends who go mass with their families on holidays, the catholic church really has no effect on my life. but that did not stop me from being touched by odrans story, his struggle, his loneliness.
how difficult it must have been/must be for so many actual priests, who have had to experience odrans story in reality. i cant imagine the amount of faith it must take an individual to continue on in their calling after such dark misdeeds shake everything they thought they knew and believed. there has always been such a focus on the uncountable number of young victims (and rightly so) but i have never given much thought about how the priests who did nothing wrong must have also been affected.
gosh. what an emotionally raw and morally difficult story - a story of loneliness, faith, tenderness, trials, and guilt - to get through. simply heartbreaking. simply phenomenal.
↠ 5 stars
January 26, 2019
I need to give this 5 stars because the writing was superb and, well, it’s John Boyne.. a favorite.
This is the story of an Irish boy, Odran Yates, and his path to priesthood. He is a very good man and he becomes aware, at too late of a time, about the abuses going on in the Catholic Church. This covers the years of his life between 1964 and 2013.
Father Odran is such a loving character, and as the awareness unfolds in him, he makes himself accountable for the sins of others.
Boyne takes us into this dark and troubled history of the church with a gripping story, with much depth and sadness.
This is the story of an Irish boy, Odran Yates, and his path to priesthood. He is a very good man and he becomes aware, at too late of a time, about the abuses going on in the Catholic Church. This covers the years of his life between 1964 and 2013.
Father Odran is such a loving character, and as the awareness unfolds in him, he makes himself accountable for the sins of others.
Boyne takes us into this dark and troubled history of the church with a gripping story, with much depth and sadness.
June 27, 2024
"All great and precious things are lonely."
― John Steinbeck
Five brilliant, heartbreaking stars!
It’s been quite a while since a book made me curse life for getting in the way of reading. A History of Loneliness certainly falls into that category. It was like settling into a comfortable chair with a cup of tea to catch up with a male friend who I hadn’t seen since school. And then, quite unexpectedly, he decides to pour out his life story! The revelations herein were as riveting as they were haunting and came burdened with horror.
Boyne’s elegant prose drew me into the life of Odran Yates and darned if he didn’t make me love that sweet Irish lad. Odran was, I felt, an innocent soul, and everything and everyone around him did its level best to stomp the wholesomeness out of him. But in 1973, aged seventeen, he signed up for what should have been the safest place on earth: the priesthood. From his first day at seminary, Odran felt right at home and made a good friend in his cellmate Tom Cardle. A bonus, one would think. Life should have been grand for Father Yates—yes, it should have been...
As I turned the last page, I wondered if we will see the good we have accomplished at the end of our lives? Or will our focus center on all that we failed to do? And is looking at the world through rose-colored glasses an act of complicity? I, like Father Yates, prefer to see a kinder side of life, even if it ends up kicking the crap out of me.
"If I cannot see some good in all of us and hope that the pain we all share will come to an end, what kind of priest am I anyway? What kind of man?"
My heart ached to leave my new friend Odran to his life of loneliness. What a tragic and spectacularly written tale. A History of Loneliness will most likely be my favorite book of 2024.
― John Steinbeck
Five brilliant, heartbreaking stars!
It’s been quite a while since a book made me curse life for getting in the way of reading. A History of Loneliness certainly falls into that category. It was like settling into a comfortable chair with a cup of tea to catch up with a male friend who I hadn’t seen since school. And then, quite unexpectedly, he decides to pour out his life story! The revelations herein were as riveting as they were haunting and came burdened with horror.
Boyne’s elegant prose drew me into the life of Odran Yates and darned if he didn’t make me love that sweet Irish lad. Odran was, I felt, an innocent soul, and everything and everyone around him did its level best to stomp the wholesomeness out of him. But in 1973, aged seventeen, he signed up for what should have been the safest place on earth: the priesthood. From his first day at seminary, Odran felt right at home and made a good friend in his cellmate Tom Cardle. A bonus, one would think. Life should have been grand for Father Yates—yes, it should have been...
As I turned the last page, I wondered if we will see the good we have accomplished at the end of our lives? Or will our focus center on all that we failed to do? And is looking at the world through rose-colored glasses an act of complicity? I, like Father Yates, prefer to see a kinder side of life, even if it ends up kicking the crap out of me.
"If I cannot see some good in all of us and hope that the pain we all share will come to an end, what kind of priest am I anyway? What kind of man?"
My heart ached to leave my new friend Odran to his life of loneliness. What a tragic and spectacularly written tale. A History of Loneliness will most likely be my favorite book of 2024.
January 28, 2019
Testing...testing...is this thing on? Ahem....tap tap tap tap...can y'all hear me in the back?....quiet, quiet please...we're about to get started, y'all. Please, if you'll all take your seats this will only take a moment and then you can get back to your books.
*crowd ssshhhhhhhh's the rude folk*
Thank you, thank you, I'll make this brief.
A History of Loneliness by John Boyne is just...meh.
Please calm down. No need to panic. People, please for the sake of the children, compose yourselves!
Security?
Security??
SECURITY!!!
*Despite this latest revelation, I will be continuing my quest to read every one of his books.
*crowd ssshhhhhhhh's the rude folk*
Thank you, thank you, I'll make this brief.
A History of Loneliness by John Boyne is just...meh.
Please calm down. No need to panic. People, please for the sake of the children, compose yourselves!
Security?
Security??
SECURITY!!!
*Despite this latest revelation, I will be continuing my quest to read every one of his books.
June 22, 2023
"Lower your voice please, Gloria," said Father Haughton. "I'm a patient man, but I have a low tolerance for screeching women."
I was not mentally prepared for this book. About three fourths of the way through I almost stopped reading it, not because it was bad by any means, but because I finally made the connections and I wasn't sure I wanted to, or was ready to emotionally deal with the ending. Sad, depressing, angry, and make you cry books are my bread and butter, but this one was devastating. I had to stop multiple times and walk away from it. Be prepared to hate characters more than you thought it was possible to hate a fictional person, be prepared to cry, be prepared to lash out at people around you because your emotions have taken such a beating they can't take anymore! This book was amazing, but it'll stick with you for sure. This isn't a light read by any means.
The characters are not likable. Some are downright hatable. The subject matter is appaualing. The story is devastating. The writing is suburb. It all peices together like a beautiful quilt. I wouldn't have changed a single sentence in it. I would highly recommend this book.
This was my second John Boyne book, and both have ended up on my favorites list. I will definitely be trying more.
I was not mentally prepared for this book. About three fourths of the way through I almost stopped reading it, not because it was bad by any means, but because I finally made the connections and I wasn't sure I wanted to, or was ready to emotionally deal with the ending. Sad, depressing, angry, and make you cry books are my bread and butter, but this one was devastating. I had to stop multiple times and walk away from it. Be prepared to hate characters more than you thought it was possible to hate a fictional person, be prepared to cry, be prepared to lash out at people around you because your emotions have taken such a beating they can't take anymore! This book was amazing, but it'll stick with you for sure. This isn't a light read by any means.
The characters are not likable. Some are downright hatable. The subject matter is appaualing. The story is devastating. The writing is suburb. It all peices together like a beautiful quilt. I wouldn't have changed a single sentence in it. I would highly recommend this book.
This was my second John Boyne book, and both have ended up on my favorites list. I will definitely be trying more.
September 22, 2020
As great as any other John Boyne book, I’ve read!!!
We follow Father Ordran Yates - a good man - from his childhood days to his impending retirement days as a Catholic priest - before during and after the sexual scandals.
Through the eyes of Ordan, we get a deep experience of damage the sexual abuse crisis in Ireland has done to victims and members of the church in Ireland.
John Boyne examines many sides of the clergy scandals—the power and authority the priests and bishops had.... innocent priests who were caught in the middle — and questions about how innocent they were—and should they have known. Or did they look the other way and ignore the evidence to spare the church from harm?
It’s so well written....
....the topic sad....
....yet, thoroughly engaging and enjoyable.
I laughed, I sighed, I was moved.
The dialogue is always good with any John Boyne book.
Here’s a little excerpt I chuckled at.
Ordan’s mother, ‘Mam’, was upset when she saw young Ordan giving a new girl in town- Katherine Summers a ride on his bike.
Katherine Summers asked Ordan for a backer ride.
Ordan said yes......
“Mam didn’t like the new neighbors, I knew that. She didn’t like people who lived in sin. She didn’t like girls who walked up and down the
Braemor Road in short skirts and tennis shoes with lollipops hanging out of their mouths. And she didn’t much care for English people who had turned their back’s on the Pope, she said, just so a fat old king could marry a strumpet”.
A terrific book...
....complex simplicity, great depth, and clarity.
Although it’s a fiction novel, it’s a very realistic look at a very shameful time in history.
Brilliantly written!!!
Several of the most wonderful and powerful reading experiences I’ve had are when I’m reading a John Boyne book.
We follow Father Ordran Yates - a good man - from his childhood days to his impending retirement days as a Catholic priest - before during and after the sexual scandals.
Through the eyes of Ordan, we get a deep experience of damage the sexual abuse crisis in Ireland has done to victims and members of the church in Ireland.
John Boyne examines many sides of the clergy scandals—the power and authority the priests and bishops had.... innocent priests who were caught in the middle — and questions about how innocent they were—and should they have known. Or did they look the other way and ignore the evidence to spare the church from harm?
It’s so well written....
....the topic sad....
....yet, thoroughly engaging and enjoyable.
I laughed, I sighed, I was moved.
The dialogue is always good with any John Boyne book.
Here’s a little excerpt I chuckled at.
Ordan’s mother, ‘Mam’, was upset when she saw young Ordan giving a new girl in town- Katherine Summers a ride on his bike.
Katherine Summers asked Ordan for a backer ride.
Ordan said yes......
“Mam didn’t like the new neighbors, I knew that. She didn’t like people who lived in sin. She didn’t like girls who walked up and down the
Braemor Road in short skirts and tennis shoes with lollipops hanging out of their mouths. And she didn’t much care for English people who had turned their back’s on the Pope, she said, just so a fat old king could marry a strumpet”.
A terrific book...
....complex simplicity, great depth, and clarity.
Although it’s a fiction novel, it’s a very realistic look at a very shameful time in history.
Brilliantly written!!!
Several of the most wonderful and powerful reading experiences I’ve had are when I’m reading a John Boyne book.
March 18, 2022
I have loved everything I’ve read by John Boyne. This book was no exception. His books often take aim at the a Catholic Church, and the Church is at the center of this one. Odran Yates is an Irish priest. Ordained in the 1970s when the Church could do no wrong, the story follows his career in the priesthood as everything goes to hell up through the 2010s. He is forced to confront not only the moral lapses of the hierarchy but also his own complacency.
While the story is dark, Boyne’s sly humor still shines through. The book is told in the first person, and at times, Odran speaks directly to the reader. We see his growing awareness, the falling away of his naivety, especially as it concerns his friend Tom. The first person narrative is basically Odran’s confession, his atonement. At heart, the book is maddening and infuriating. It’s a reminder of how many lives were damaged by the arrogance of the church hierarchy.
Boyne has a gift. His writing is not just gorgeous, but spot on. His characters come across as real, especially Odran.
Gerald Doyle narrates this and totally captures Odran’s voice.
While the story is dark, Boyne’s sly humor still shines through. The book is told in the first person, and at times, Odran speaks directly to the reader. We see his growing awareness, the falling away of his naivety, especially as it concerns his friend Tom. The first person narrative is basically Odran’s confession, his atonement. At heart, the book is maddening and infuriating. It’s a reminder of how many lives were damaged by the arrogance of the church hierarchy.
Boyne has a gift. His writing is not just gorgeous, but spot on. His characters come across as real, especially Odran.
Gerald Doyle narrates this and totally captures Odran’s voice.
April 4, 2021
”And as I drove back through the streets toward the comfort of my lonely bed, I knew without question that the world as I had always known it and the faith that I had put in it were about to come to an end, and who knew what would take its place?”
Early-Onset Alzheimer’s Disease / Dementia, Pedophilia and the Catholic Church are front and center in this novel, as well as tragedy, how an event witnessed as a young child can change how you process traumatic events.
”How can something still feel so painful after twenty-eight years? I asked myself. Is there no recovery from the traumas of our youth?”
This is not a subtle book, the message is clear and the anger that is felt throughout this story is shared through the words of Odran Yates, told in different times in his life, from his younger years through his life as a priest in Ireland. Indeed, this story hops around in time, back and forth, and it is only later in this novel where that which is hinted at early on takes front and center stage.
Odran enters the seminary at the age of 17, and Tom Cardle, who is Odran’s roommate, enters his life. Tom, who has no desire to be there, who is being forced by his physically abusive father, befriends Odran, who seems to have led a fairly sheltered life. They remain friends after Tom leaves when he is assigned to a parish. And then a few years later, to another parish. And then another. Odran views these transfers as being unfair to Tom, and continues to live his life, hiding from what he does not want to see.
”What a world it is that we live in and what injuries we do to children.”
There were parts in this that felt a bit convoluted, particularly when Odran is sent as the one chosen student to take his final year of studies in Rome. Once there, in a meeting with the Monsignor, having received great reports on him, he rather inexplicably becomes a tea server for Pope John Paul I, staying nearby during the night. Until one night when he is overcome by his obsession over a waitress, a barista, a desire to know more of her, if not a desire to know her in the biblical sense.
”The sensation that for the world to exist with an object of such beauty in it—and for that object to be unattainable—was the very sweetest kind of pain imaginable.”
If that part felt a tad bit convoluted to me, Boyne more than made up for it with his dialogue, seasoned with Irish phrases, which flows effortlessly, moving the story along, clear and pointed when it needs to be in the unraveling of the sexual abuse scandal involving the church who plays the “see no evil” card. Boyne’s passionate reproof is keenly felt for those guilty of these heinous acts, but is tempered somewhat by his feeling that there are priests, like Odran, whose sin was his failure to perceive what was before his eyes, and yet he did not see. Not an absolution, mind you, but then Odran doesn’t seem to be seeking one.
”What kind of life was this? I wondered. To what sort of an organization had I dedicated my life? And even as I searched for blame, I knew that a darkness was stirring inside me concerning my own complicity, for I had seen things and I had suspected things and I had turned away from things and I had done nothing.”
”If I cannot see some good in all of us and hope that the pain we all share will come to an end, what kind of priest am I anyway? What kind of man?”
In the Acknowledgements, Boyne offers this dedication:
”It is impossible to estimate the number of children who suffered in Ireland at the hands of the Catholic Church, nor is it easy to guess the number of dedicated and honest priests who have seen their lives and vocations tarnished by the actions of their colleagues.
"This novel is dedicated to all these victims; may they have happier times ahead.“
Early-Onset Alzheimer’s Disease / Dementia, Pedophilia and the Catholic Church are front and center in this novel, as well as tragedy, how an event witnessed as a young child can change how you process traumatic events.
”How can something still feel so painful after twenty-eight years? I asked myself. Is there no recovery from the traumas of our youth?”
This is not a subtle book, the message is clear and the anger that is felt throughout this story is shared through the words of Odran Yates, told in different times in his life, from his younger years through his life as a priest in Ireland. Indeed, this story hops around in time, back and forth, and it is only later in this novel where that which is hinted at early on takes front and center stage.
Odran enters the seminary at the age of 17, and Tom Cardle, who is Odran’s roommate, enters his life. Tom, who has no desire to be there, who is being forced by his physically abusive father, befriends Odran, who seems to have led a fairly sheltered life. They remain friends after Tom leaves when he is assigned to a parish. And then a few years later, to another parish. And then another. Odran views these transfers as being unfair to Tom, and continues to live his life, hiding from what he does not want to see.
”What a world it is that we live in and what injuries we do to children.”
There were parts in this that felt a bit convoluted, particularly when Odran is sent as the one chosen student to take his final year of studies in Rome. Once there, in a meeting with the Monsignor, having received great reports on him, he rather inexplicably becomes a tea server for Pope John Paul I, staying nearby during the night. Until one night when he is overcome by his obsession over a waitress, a barista, a desire to know more of her, if not a desire to know her in the biblical sense.
”The sensation that for the world to exist with an object of such beauty in it—and for that object to be unattainable—was the very sweetest kind of pain imaginable.”
If that part felt a tad bit convoluted to me, Boyne more than made up for it with his dialogue, seasoned with Irish phrases, which flows effortlessly, moving the story along, clear and pointed when it needs to be in the unraveling of the sexual abuse scandal involving the church who plays the “see no evil” card. Boyne’s passionate reproof is keenly felt for those guilty of these heinous acts, but is tempered somewhat by his feeling that there are priests, like Odran, whose sin was his failure to perceive what was before his eyes, and yet he did not see. Not an absolution, mind you, but then Odran doesn’t seem to be seeking one.
”What kind of life was this? I wondered. To what sort of an organization had I dedicated my life? And even as I searched for blame, I knew that a darkness was stirring inside me concerning my own complicity, for I had seen things and I had suspected things and I had turned away from things and I had done nothing.”
”If I cannot see some good in all of us and hope that the pain we all share will come to an end, what kind of priest am I anyway? What kind of man?”
In the Acknowledgements, Boyne offers this dedication:
”It is impossible to estimate the number of children who suffered in Ireland at the hands of the Catholic Church, nor is it easy to guess the number of dedicated and honest priests who have seen their lives and vocations tarnished by the actions of their colleagues.
"This novel is dedicated to all these victims; may they have happier times ahead.“
July 27, 2020
My fourth John Boyne and like the other books of him this too started with a bang for me but soon it lost all its shine and became dull and a drag to read. While I liked the parts where it throws light on child abuse in Catholic Churches, I absolutely hated the protagonist for how he dealt with all of it. He liked it when people respected him, praised him but as soon as tide turn against him he declared himself to be a victim. This is not how you could be an apt model for a society which you want to free of all the malice, violence, and depression it is drowning itself into.
August 25, 2015
Odran Yates attends the seminary in the 1970's. After a family tragedy, his mother has a "revelation" that priesthood was his calling. A very passive person, Odran goes along with her wishes.
The book follows his path through seminary, his duties in Rome, his postings, his family and his involvement in the pedophile scandals. It is incredibly moving watching him walk a straight and very narrow path. He calls it being naïve but it is really blinders. He chooses not to see and it is a choice.
It reminded me on Germany in WWII when people made the choice to ignore what was happening around them. Or in the U.S. in the 1950's when "separate but equal" guidelines were in practice. Or in more examples that I can count. How many times have we turned our heads rather than deal with the situation?
It is also the pain the people in power knew and covered it up. So many suffered because of that decision. It is reprehensible. I was interested in his distaste for the Polish priest and his hints of the murder of John Paul I. I loved the line about the Fianna Fail crooks whom would be elected again in a couple of years. Here we sit in a country full of crooks and idiots in our Congress and they keep getting reelected.
This is a book that will stay with me for a long time and I couldn't recommend it more highly.
The book follows his path through seminary, his duties in Rome, his postings, his family and his involvement in the pedophile scandals. It is incredibly moving watching him walk a straight and very narrow path. He calls it being naïve but it is really blinders. He chooses not to see and it is a choice.
It reminded me on Germany in WWII when people made the choice to ignore what was happening around them. Or in the U.S. in the 1950's when "separate but equal" guidelines were in practice. Or in more examples that I can count. How many times have we turned our heads rather than deal with the situation?
It is also the pain the people in power knew and covered it up. So many suffered because of that decision. It is reprehensible. I was interested in his distaste for the Polish priest and his hints of the murder of John Paul I. I loved the line about the Fianna Fail crooks whom would be elected again in a couple of years. Here we sit in a country full of crooks and idiots in our Congress and they keep getting reelected.
This is a book that will stay with me for a long time and I couldn't recommend it more highly.
December 13, 2021
The third John Boyne book I have read, and it has proven to be another excellent, gripping story.
Both Ireland and the Catholic Church are foreign to me, so I learned a great deal from reading this. The process to become a priest was much longer and more complicated than I had realised. I suppose I had never really thought about it before.
Father Odran Yates is a brilliant character - I don't think I have ever simultaneously felt such compassion and anger toward someone, real or fiction. I really did like him, cared deeply for him. In many ways I feel he was a good man, but every time he turned a willful blind eye, or refused to ask or say what desperately needed to be asked or said I felt furious with him. I wanted to grab him and say, "This matters! All these things you see but then pretend to yourself you didn't see -- they matter. Your silence matters as much as their actions!"
In recent years I think much of society has had to acknowledge and (for some) reexamine the ways in which people are complicit, what that means, why it matters. This novel highlights this much more effectively than many of the articles I read during the peak of the Me Too media frenzy.
Earlier today I saw an article about Cardinal George Pell, who could have protected children from abuse, but did not. That this timed in so aptly with the novel I was reading did not please me. It was disheartening to see. Ireland, Australia-- the places may vary, the crimes do not. It's appalling.
But, as John Boyne says in his acknowledgements, "It's impossible to estimate the number of children who suffered in Ireland at the hands of the Catholic Church, nor is it easy to guess the number of dedicated and honest priests who have seen their lives and vocations tarnished by the actions of their colleagues." A version of that statement came to me often as I read. When Father Yates is villainised because the assumption is that all priests are paedophiles I felt the injustice of that deeply. But I also understand why people feel that way. Complicit or not, I had a great deal of sympathy for Father Yates.
Father Yates' family were wonderful too. His sister Hannah, her tragic decline in health so beautifully portrayed. His nephews, vivid and alive both as children and as the adults they grow into. And his mother, dealing with a shocking tragedy, suddenly turning to God in her grief and having an epiphany while watching The Late Late Show on television:
" 'You have a vocation, Odran,' she informed me. 'You have a vocation to be a priest.'
And I thought if she said so then she must be right. For wasn't that the way that I'd been brought up, after all? To believe everything that my mother told me?"
One of John Boyne's most pleasing talents is balancing the desperately sad with moments of unexpected hilarity. This was one of them. Poignant in a way, but it also made me laugh, and I laughed every time it was mentioned. I hadn't expected to laugh at all while reading this book, but I did. It was far from a lighthearted comedy of course, but the humour was there, and perfectly handled.
I often say I was sad to finish a book. This was partly true here, as I was riveted by every page, but I admit to a sense of relief as I finished the heart-wrenching final chapters. I may read this one again some day, but not for a fairly long while. It's a challenging read in some ways of course, but worth every page.
https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandst...
Both Ireland and the Catholic Church are foreign to me, so I learned a great deal from reading this. The process to become a priest was much longer and more complicated than I had realised. I suppose I had never really thought about it before.
Father Odran Yates is a brilliant character - I don't think I have ever simultaneously felt such compassion and anger toward someone, real or fiction. I really did like him, cared deeply for him. In many ways I feel he was a good man, but every time he turned a willful blind eye, or refused to ask or say what desperately needed to be asked or said I felt furious with him. I wanted to grab him and say, "This matters! All these things you see but then pretend to yourself you didn't see -- they matter. Your silence matters as much as their actions!"
In recent years I think much of society has had to acknowledge and (for some) reexamine the ways in which people are complicit, what that means, why it matters. This novel highlights this much more effectively than many of the articles I read during the peak of the Me Too media frenzy.
Earlier today I saw an article about Cardinal George Pell, who could have protected children from abuse, but did not. That this timed in so aptly with the novel I was reading did not please me. It was disheartening to see. Ireland, Australia-- the places may vary, the crimes do not. It's appalling.
But, as John Boyne says in his acknowledgements, "It's impossible to estimate the number of children who suffered in Ireland at the hands of the Catholic Church, nor is it easy to guess the number of dedicated and honest priests who have seen their lives and vocations tarnished by the actions of their colleagues." A version of that statement came to me often as I read. When Father Yates is villainised because the assumption is that all priests are paedophiles I felt the injustice of that deeply. But I also understand why people feel that way. Complicit or not, I had a great deal of sympathy for Father Yates.
Father Yates' family were wonderful too. His sister Hannah, her tragic decline in health so beautifully portrayed. His nephews, vivid and alive both as children and as the adults they grow into. And his mother, dealing with a shocking tragedy, suddenly turning to God in her grief and having an epiphany while watching The Late Late Show on television:
" 'You have a vocation, Odran,' she informed me. 'You have a vocation to be a priest.'
And I thought if she said so then she must be right. For wasn't that the way that I'd been brought up, after all? To believe everything that my mother told me?"
One of John Boyne's most pleasing talents is balancing the desperately sad with moments of unexpected hilarity. This was one of them. Poignant in a way, but it also made me laugh, and I laughed every time it was mentioned. I hadn't expected to laugh at all while reading this book, but I did. It was far from a lighthearted comedy of course, but the humour was there, and perfectly handled.
I often say I was sad to finish a book. This was partly true here, as I was riveted by every page, but I admit to a sense of relief as I finished the heart-wrenching final chapters. I may read this one again some day, but not for a fairly long while. It's a challenging read in some ways of course, but worth every page.
https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandst...
November 23, 2014
Hauntingly sad, yet compulsively readable, this book revolved around the widespread child abuse in Ireland under the mantle of the Catholic Church. The author captures the prevailing thought patterns of the time convincingly. There was a common hope, an expectation even, that one child per family would choose to enter the priesthood. Priests, as highly respected authority figures, were pillars of the community, and the betrayal of this trust was a tragedy with ever widening currents. The reader is privy to the inertia which gripped so many. Somehow, if a person didn't want it to be true and ignored it, then maybe it wouldn’t be true after all, or it would go away. One sees the cruelty, the flagrant abuse of power, and the resulting damage visited on individuals as well as entire families. Also, the guilt, the self-loathing of those who stood by, or looked the other way, is powerfully rendered. While A History of Loneliness is deeply disturbing, the underlying rage is tempered with empathy on some level. An incredible novel!
December 31, 2018
Very easily a 5★ from me. Odran Yates is a sensitive and compelling character dealing with private guilt, public betrayal by his church and his fellow priests, and his own innermost feelings of love and loss.
I’m linking you to Eileen’s review because frankly, she says it better than I ever could:
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
I’m linking you to Eileen’s review because frankly, she says it better than I ever could:
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
September 15, 2017
The novel that kept me thinking about while I was not reading it .....
August 7, 2017
2.5 stars
"Father Odran Yates is dedicated to his vocation since entering Clonliffe College seminary at seventeen. He has lived through betrayal, controversy and public condemnation of some of his dearest friends. Through all of this he has remained firm to his beliefs"
A History of Loneliness by John Boyne was a book I had been so looking forward to reading as John Boyne is one of my favourite writers. I was intrigued when I read the blurb of this book and looked forward to how Boyne would tackle this tough time in the Catholic Church and Ireland.
For me the book failed for a number of reasons and firstly the story didn't flow for me I just felt disconnected from the characters and it didn't capture my interest as much as it should have. It took me a considerable length of time to finish the novel and this was because I became bored with the story and felt it was full of cliches. There was many times when reading the book that I grew tired of conversations and situations that seem predictable and over written.
I do appreciate on one level that a book like this highlights the abuse that was hidden within the Catholic Church for many years here in Ireland and the suffering families still live with many years later. I think a novel like this is a good reminder of how religion and power can become obsessive and corrupt.
I felt by the end of the book I hadn't learned anything I didn't know from the media already and the story or the characters didn't have any great impact on me.
An ok read but not one I will be recommending.
"Father Odran Yates is dedicated to his vocation since entering Clonliffe College seminary at seventeen. He has lived through betrayal, controversy and public condemnation of some of his dearest friends. Through all of this he has remained firm to his beliefs"
A History of Loneliness by John Boyne was a book I had been so looking forward to reading as John Boyne is one of my favourite writers. I was intrigued when I read the blurb of this book and looked forward to how Boyne would tackle this tough time in the Catholic Church and Ireland.
For me the book failed for a number of reasons and firstly the story didn't flow for me I just felt disconnected from the characters and it didn't capture my interest as much as it should have. It took me a considerable length of time to finish the novel and this was because I became bored with the story and felt it was full of cliches. There was many times when reading the book that I grew tired of conversations and situations that seem predictable and over written.
I do appreciate on one level that a book like this highlights the abuse that was hidden within the Catholic Church for many years here in Ireland and the suffering families still live with many years later. I think a novel like this is a good reminder of how religion and power can become obsessive and corrupt.
I felt by the end of the book I hadn't learned anything I didn't know from the media already and the story or the characters didn't have any great impact on me.
An ok read but not one I will be recommending.
May 15, 2019
A History of Loneliness focuses on the life of Odran Yates, an Irish priest caught at the centre of the child abuse scandal that devastated the Catholic Church. It reads like an extended examination of conscience with Odran looking back on his life, trying to determine if he is as innocent as he has presumed himself to be.
”I did not become ashamed of being Irish until I was well into the middle years of my life.”
The narrative transports us to different times in Odran’s life - his childhood in Dublin, a family holiday in Wexford, his time in the seminary, his ordination in Rome - and we quickly begin to see how, through his lack of intervention and his willingness to look away, he is complicit in the abuses carried out within the Church. Although he’s weak and passive, Odran isn’t a despicable character. Sure, he’s no saint, but he’s a good man and dedicated to his vocation. As readers, we’re challenged to ask ourselves if, in the same situation, we would we have acted any differently.
The book reads like an indictment against the Church, shining a light on the dangers of enabling one institution to wield so much power over a society and Boyne, at times, uses the novel to vent the deep anger he feels towards this institution.
This was an achingly sad and deeply moving story about faith, family, the role of fathers, both biological and spiritual, abuse, the loss of friendship and courage. In the hands of a lesser writer, the complex narration and passionate denunciation of the Catholic Church, would likely have fallen short. Absolutely masterful storytelling. I’ll definitely be back for more Boyne.
”I did not become ashamed of being Irish until I was well into the middle years of my life.”
The narrative transports us to different times in Odran’s life - his childhood in Dublin, a family holiday in Wexford, his time in the seminary, his ordination in Rome - and we quickly begin to see how, through his lack of intervention and his willingness to look away, he is complicit in the abuses carried out within the Church. Although he’s weak and passive, Odran isn’t a despicable character. Sure, he’s no saint, but he’s a good man and dedicated to his vocation. As readers, we’re challenged to ask ourselves if, in the same situation, we would we have acted any differently.
The book reads like an indictment against the Church, shining a light on the dangers of enabling one institution to wield so much power over a society and Boyne, at times, uses the novel to vent the deep anger he feels towards this institution.
This was an achingly sad and deeply moving story about faith, family, the role of fathers, both biological and spiritual, abuse, the loss of friendship and courage. In the hands of a lesser writer, the complex narration and passionate denunciation of the Catholic Church, would likely have fallen short. Absolutely masterful storytelling. I’ll definitely be back for more Boyne.
December 27, 2019
"I did not become ashamed of being Irish until I was well into the middle years of my life."
Last year I read The Heart's Invisible Furies and A Ladder to the Sky by John Boyne and loved them both. I am very happy to say that A History of Loneliness did not disappoint at all.
As always, John Boyne’s gift in creating authentic, fully developed characters shines through. I really liked Father Odran Yates, and enjoyed seeing the world through his quiet, almost passive point of view. The author writes with intelligence, empathy and subtle humor.
Although the plot focuses on the sexual abuse of children in the Catholic church, and how this has changed the religious landscape in Ireland, it is also a very personal look at the feelings of regret the main protagonist experience about actions not taken. This personal element really resonated with me as we are all guilty of the sin of omission at some time or another.
As I adore all things Irish, it comes as no surprise that John Boyne is fast becoming one of my favorite authors. Any recommendations on what my next book by him should be?
April 18, 2021
John Boyne is masterful in his writing, and this book is definitely no exception. He manages to draw you into his wonderful story immediately, and with total ease. This book isn't as amazing as "The Hearts invisible Furies" but it's still Boyne at his best.
This particular book centres around the Catholic church, and abuse that went on there. I felt so much heartache for Odran, I really did, and the way in which he holds himself entirely responsible for the sins of others, is painful to read.
If John Boyne had a free hour, I'd quite merrily skip off to the coffee shop with him, and believe me, I don't offer many people coffee.
This particular book centres around the Catholic church, and abuse that went on there. I felt so much heartache for Odran, I really did, and the way in which he holds himself entirely responsible for the sins of others, is painful to read.
If John Boyne had a free hour, I'd quite merrily skip off to the coffee shop with him, and believe me, I don't offer many people coffee.
October 23, 2020
A History of Loneliness by John Boyne is a stunning and unflinching novel of the scandal that came to light in the early twenty-first century surrounding the Roman Catholic Church in Ireland. This travesty culminated in the trials of many priests accused of sexual abuse over the years, largely due to the complicity of the hierarchy of the Dublin diocese in denial and in moving offending priests from one parish church to another. It is told from the perspective of a Catholic priest, Father Odran Yates, who served as chaplain of a Terenure College in Ireland for nearly thirty years, overseeing the library and teaching literature classes where he is quite happy and content with his calling in life. Father Odran Yates excelled while he was in the seminary, in fact, receiving the honor of serving in Rome during his final year as he completed his university studies and serving as the night and early morning attendant for Pope Paul VI and the brief tenure of Pope John Paul I before his death and the rise to the papacy of Pope John Paul II.
However, as the scandal begins to break open in Ireland, Father Odran is asked to leave his beloved position at Terenure College to serve as a parish priest after his closest friend from the seminary has been removed from his position. However, he has been assured that it would only be temporary. But now Father Odran is beginning to realize that public opinion has shifted and now he is looked upon with scorn, fear and sometimes outright derision. This vitally important time in Irish history is explored through the journey of Father Odran Yates as he comes to terms, not only how it has affected the Church, but also the personal impact this has had on his family. He is forced to reconcile any complicity that his denial may have played in the damage to so many families and the righteousness of the anger being expressed. John Boyne is a brilliant Irish author and I am slowly making my way through his beautiful and impactful body of work.
"What a world is that we live in and what injuries we do to children."
"In my job, you have to think of all of the people who trust you," the railway keeper had said to me "Just imagine in any of them got hurt on account of your negligence? Or mine? Would you want that on your conscience? Knowing you were responsible for such pain?
However, as the scandal begins to break open in Ireland, Father Odran is asked to leave his beloved position at Terenure College to serve as a parish priest after his closest friend from the seminary has been removed from his position. However, he has been assured that it would only be temporary. But now Father Odran is beginning to realize that public opinion has shifted and now he is looked upon with scorn, fear and sometimes outright derision. This vitally important time in Irish history is explored through the journey of Father Odran Yates as he comes to terms, not only how it has affected the Church, but also the personal impact this has had on his family. He is forced to reconcile any complicity that his denial may have played in the damage to so many families and the righteousness of the anger being expressed. John Boyne is a brilliant Irish author and I am slowly making my way through his beautiful and impactful body of work.
"What a world is that we live in and what injuries we do to children."
"In my job, you have to think of all of the people who trust you," the railway keeper had said to me "Just imagine in any of them got hurt on account of your negligence? Or mine? Would you want that on your conscience? Knowing you were responsible for such pain?
June 18, 2020
I think I want to marry John Boyne when I grow up. He must leave the most delicious notes on the counter when he runs out of the house. At this point, I’m utterly fascinated by his way with words. This book was the third of his that I treated myself to within little more than a year; it was no easy story, this time, but it worked its magic nonetheless. Of course it would. It’s John Boyne.
(John, are you out there? I love a Guinness with my oysters and will gladly take you out to Matt the Thresher for dinner, one of these days. Short enough trip from Montreal, really. Think about it.)
Father Odran Yates was ordained a priest in the 1970s. A History of Loneliness carefully fans out the details of his life: a modest existence by definition, a pledge to simplicity and helpfulness at a time when the world was evolving faster and faster. In the competent hands of John Boyne, the book also becomes an account of a kingdom going to ruins: the Catholic Church would run afoul of a child sex abuse scandal of considerable magnitude in Ireland in the decades that were to follow our good Father’s taking to the cloth. While Odran Yates is no paedophile, far from it, he finds himself in a unique position to reflect upon a system that made him complicit, in a way. This story is about self-imposed blindness and the lengths we go to in order to live with our conscience. It’s about the lies we choose to tell ourselves and how they catch up with us, inevitably.
That’s not to say the novel is all dark and depressing. The Yates family, the seminary friends, life in Dublin and abroad: there are plenty of moments depicted for what they would’ve been in any person’s life, full of joy, or maybe hope, regardless of the context. The novel may feature a priest but the ordinary man never hovers too far. Plus, Father Yates remains a figure of his time; he consistently adopts a progressive view and wins the reader’s sympathy in no time flat.
On church volunteers:
“There are men who volunteered as well, of course, but God forbid that any of them should get stuck with the menial work. […] The men helped to write the parish newsletter, but the women delivered it; the men organized the church social evenings, but the women cleaned up when they were over; the men encouraged the children to take part in family Masses, but the women had to look after them when they did.”
With references to pop culture that entirely make sense at the moment and a more vigorous stride in comparison, A History of Loneliness reads quite differently than Gilead by Marilynne Robinson does, as the time and place under scrutiny have little in common. Gone are the philosophical musings on mortality and neighborliness, to be replaced with the questioning of purpose and allegiance. But this is still a reflection on the inner life of a religious man and once again, it’s a hit for me. The topic of the novel required finesse and got it in spades.
Of course it would. It’s John Boyne.
(John, are you out there? I love a Guinness with my oysters and will gladly take you out to Matt the Thresher for dinner, one of these days. Short enough trip from Montreal, really. Think about it.)
Father Odran Yates was ordained a priest in the 1970s. A History of Loneliness carefully fans out the details of his life: a modest existence by definition, a pledge to simplicity and helpfulness at a time when the world was evolving faster and faster. In the competent hands of John Boyne, the book also becomes an account of a kingdom going to ruins: the Catholic Church would run afoul of a child sex abuse scandal of considerable magnitude in Ireland in the decades that were to follow our good Father’s taking to the cloth. While Odran Yates is no paedophile, far from it, he finds himself in a unique position to reflect upon a system that made him complicit, in a way. This story is about self-imposed blindness and the lengths we go to in order to live with our conscience. It’s about the lies we choose to tell ourselves and how they catch up with us, inevitably.
That’s not to say the novel is all dark and depressing. The Yates family, the seminary friends, life in Dublin and abroad: there are plenty of moments depicted for what they would’ve been in any person’s life, full of joy, or maybe hope, regardless of the context. The novel may feature a priest but the ordinary man never hovers too far. Plus, Father Yates remains a figure of his time; he consistently adopts a progressive view and wins the reader’s sympathy in no time flat.
On church volunteers:
“There are men who volunteered as well, of course, but God forbid that any of them should get stuck with the menial work. […] The men helped to write the parish newsletter, but the women delivered it; the men organized the church social evenings, but the women cleaned up when they were over; the men encouraged the children to take part in family Masses, but the women had to look after them when they did.”
With references to pop culture that entirely make sense at the moment and a more vigorous stride in comparison, A History of Loneliness reads quite differently than Gilead by Marilynne Robinson does, as the time and place under scrutiny have little in common. Gone are the philosophical musings on mortality and neighborliness, to be replaced with the questioning of purpose and allegiance. But this is still a reflection on the inner life of a religious man and once again, it’s a hit for me. The topic of the novel required finesse and got it in spades.
Of course it would. It’s John Boyne.
June 12, 2015
While A History of Loneliness is an aptly named title for this disturbing story of the child abuse cover-up surrounding the Irish Catholic Church, it was just an ok read for me compared to others I've enjoyed from John Boyne.
Overall, I found it somewhat slow going with the abuser obvious to the reader early on, but disappointingly not to Father Odran Yates.......I found him to be rather annoyingly naive for an educated man and particularly insensitive and weak for a man of the cloth.
A tough, but noteworthy read (that made me mad!)
Update: June 12, 2015 Finally catching up on some movies and Doubt did not disappoint. Agree with GR friends Eve and Carol...it was excellent with great acting by Meryl Streep and Phillip Seamore Hoffman. (enjoyed being able to see another PSH flick too)
February 14, 2023
It is important to note that the majority of the themes explored in this book deal with sensitive subject matters. My review, therefore, touches on these topics as well. Many people might find the subject matters of the book as well as those detailed in my review overwhelming. I would suggest you steer clear of both if this is the case. Please note that from this point forward I will be writing about matters which contain reflections on abuse, child endangerment, Hebephilia, Pedophilia, death of a child, sexual abuse of minors, physical abuse of minors, psychological distress, mental illness, religious extremism, terminal illness, the suicide of a minor, & others.
Alongside the content warning, I would like to highlight that if you are someone for whom reading repeated instances where both graphic descriptions & dedicated insinuations are given regarding the abuse of minors, is overwhelming, triggering, debilitating, or other; this is a book I would encourage you to put aside. The subject matters approached in this book deal entirely with the actions taken by sexual predators as well as those undertaken by others systemically protecting these actions. There is very little of this story that does not impart mental reflection on the realities these minors were forcibly subjected to throughout a great many years. Therefore, please be kind to yourself & do not pursue this book or my review if you are not in a position to be faced with this matter.
Odran Yates is a priest in the Catholic Church in Ireland. He narrates a series of events over the course of multiple years in his life which have shaped him to be the man lying face-down on the earth, wondering if things could have been different, had he only been someone else. He is surrounded by people bold enough to put thought into action regardless if these choices are good or bad. The reader meets Odran in a compromising position, one that leaves our roaming eyes with that same reflection; had Odran been anyone else, had the circumstances been anything other than what they are, one might be left with feelings of pity for the poor soul who was meant to drown in the waves that fateful summer day. Yet, I cannot feel anything but anger towards Odran.
This is a book that has left me feeling cheated. I feel annoyed at myself for wanting the main character to be a good person, for his actions to have carried through & formed a unified front with his inner monologue. However, time after time, Odran proved to me that he was incapable of being honest, of seeking out the protagonist in himself, the one he diligently wanted me to believe he was. Instead, he was the best friend of a repeated & prolific child predator; a man who wanted to sit in the graces of this child abuser because he couldn’t face himself in a mirror to come to terms with the reality of his position, one of a lonely whimpering, rain-drenched leaf at the bottom of a mildew rotten sunken ship, shot down for the war crimes it sought to inflict.
Why do I feel so much annoyance? This is not a question without an answer for I know myself distinctly; understanding that in books I wish to see the change we have avoided in reality. How dare Odran walk back into Aidan’s life after he deliberately allowed someone he knew to be a child sexual predator to roam the boy's house at night? How dare he lie to the face of his own nephew who had to deal with the physical & psychological repercussions of such levels of abuse, only to admit to himself due to the words spoken to him by the perpetrator, that he is also the villain in this story. How dare he.
Yet, how like reality this fictional work is, indeed. So riddled with nuisance as to whom we are meant to trust, whom we are to want to see succeed. I can say confidently that I feel no shame in admitting that they should all burn for such unforgivable things, as those that the children have had to endure at the hands of barbarically inept human beings as the adults in this scenario. Why should I feel conflicted about my sentiments towards Odran? He is, after all, the root cause of the abuse his nephew suffered. I should feel more care to see a four-leaf-clover fly away in the wind than to watch him punished in my field of vision for what he deliberately allowed to happen. However, that is not what this story is asking of the reader. It is easy to point the finger, that is all that happens throughout this story.
When it mattered to speak out, everyone whispered. When it mattered to listen, the ears of the deaf were more attentive. How can this be? However difficult it is to admit, everyone is part of the problem while many are simultaneously a victim of the system. If one is to take Odran’s experiences as a primary example one might wonder when this character was ever meant to revolt against everything he had known. This is a character who had the deaths of his brother & father diminished to darkness in his memory for the level of traumatic upheaval they caused his psyche. However, they nibbled at him still for how could he completely forget what had happened when he was living in the imposed constraints such a tragedy caused his family, within the actions of his religious extremist mother who threw him at the first religious figure she saw because her son was evoking ‘normal’ teenage emotions.
This is not to say that I do not believe that Dissociative Amnesia played a part in Odran’s life, I very much believe that to be the case. However, he was constantly reminded of things he wished to forget — so to say — by the behaviour of his mother. Yet, can we blame her? There was a time when people wanted to trust that religious figures were honest, truthful, & kind people. This is not something we can say is innately wrong for, haven’t we all, at least once, sought in wish or desire, to trust someone? Certainly, we cannot look upon the centuries of religious abuse of power as indicative that these figures of supposed God’s voice, were in fact playthings for the Devil himself, can we?
This is a difficult question to answer, just as there may be one rotten apple in a tree, one needs to examine the trunk to determine whether or not the entity is rotten to the core. So too have religions throughout all of humankind been privy to both honest & dishonest, kind & unkind, people. The Catholic Church was meant to protect its believers, it was meant to give them a reason for being; guiding them with chorus & community into the welcoming hands of their Lord. Yet, these same figureheads found themselves riddled to the brim with child predators. Why is that? Again, we find ourselves with an impossibly difficult question to answer.
One may say that the victims of abuse at the hands of religious figures were suppressed because it seems impossible that a person who proclaimed themselves vocationally inclined in the field, was at once a man of God & a man who abused children. Therefore, one may note that perhaps this was a field of work wherein such barbaric peoples felt comfortable; felt that they could hide in plain sight for who would ever question a person who said to hear the word of God from the Man himself? However, one might also note that for those same reasons, the Catholic Church has highlighted itself as being the epicentre for child sexual abuse because people cannot believe that this would be the place, of all places, where a predator would feel safe to act on their impulses.
By this I mean, we might regard the high number of cases brought to the forefront by those brave children, as being believed because it was impossible that a man of the cloth should be such a horrible person therefore, he should be evicted from the community. Is believing in the goodness at the core of religions bad? No. Is being part of a religion, a community of peers seeking to pray for salvation & grace, bad? No. However, hosting a community of repression & silence, fostering a feeding ground for people who prey on the vulnerability cultivated in wanting to believe in a higher power, is devilishly wrong. 95 Theses & I should think one of them wrung true to the core of the fact.
With these questions, we are brought round to the essence of Odran’s story. Who is at fault for his negligence? It is at once his own fault for deciding that he did not have it within his person to face the facts; his esteemed lifelong friend was a sexual predator, & he was a bad man & Odran ignored this because he did not want to experience confrontation. This leads us to the fault that lies at the hands of those who raised Odran to be the way that he was. The people who thumped him into the ground until he was forever quiet, forever silenced. This is the priest who molested him, it is his father who experienced serious levels of anger & violence, & it is his own mother who willfully ignored the world around her for the security she sought in organized religion.
Our species have been pondering the question of ‘nature versus nurture’ for centuries, if not longer. As with this story, we could be pointing fingers at others forever. What is troublesome is admitting to ourselves, as Odran had to do at the conclusion of this story, that one is responsible for one's own actions, to an extent at least. How easy would it have been for Odran to randomly break the mould he was fitted for upon his birth? How likely would it have been that he would seek to do this because he could not go on as he was? It is impossible to say because he never did either of these. The reader is faced with the difficult decision as to whether or not Odran should be believed & whether or not it is worth their time to trust that this character is remorseful for his neglect.
With that, I will say that this made the reading experience extremely difficult for me. I remain steadfast in my sentiments against those who abuse children; a stance I shall never falter from holding. However, as Boyne wrote onward, I could not help but feel frustrated at his ease; crafting dimensional characters who would be remembered as that kindly, mousy friend, & who would be recalled as the person who unbelievably was the perpetrator of their own experiences on to others. These are the markers of a stellar writer & one who enamoured me in the narrative at once. I wanted to be led through the timeline, I felt intrigued & interested, I wanted to believe that Odran never knew a thing.
Yet, just as Tom refused to speak his truth, choosing instead to repeat the offences done to him in his childhood, so too did Odran recycle the actions transferred to him & so, the finger-seeking blame needs to become ten or twenty. Specifically, when children are involved, it is difficult to say that it was in the hands of one person for aren’t we loath to forgive a parent we deem neglectful, a figure we simply couldn’t believe to be abusive, an adult we thought we knew. Every character in this book plays the villain; every person partakes in the final form that these people have become.
What I found to be the most troublesome aspect of this book are the questions it has left me with. Boyne’s writing swept me into a world that was riddled with ghouls at every turn yet, I wanted to believe that there would be an archangel come to save the day. How can someone write about reality in such a way as to have me hoping against reason that, this time it will be different?
I appreciated the stance the author took at introducing a character who was set apart yet, one who mutilated themselves in their own lies; a character one could be enticed to believe, trust, & hope for. Poor Odran with everyone offering him sandwiches when he wasn’t even hungry. Poor Odran whose father drowned his young brother in a murder-suicide. Poor Odran who finally made a friend only for this person to be a blatant mentally deranged ghoul. Poor Odran who is so like the other passengers on the train so as to melt into the fabric on the seat becoming who he was, no one man at all.
Alongside the content warning, I would like to highlight that if you are someone for whom reading repeated instances where both graphic descriptions & dedicated insinuations are given regarding the abuse of minors, is overwhelming, triggering, debilitating, or other; this is a book I would encourage you to put aside. The subject matters approached in this book deal entirely with the actions taken by sexual predators as well as those undertaken by others systemically protecting these actions. There is very little of this story that does not impart mental reflection on the realities these minors were forcibly subjected to throughout a great many years. Therefore, please be kind to yourself & do not pursue this book or my review if you are not in a position to be faced with this matter.
Odran Yates is a priest in the Catholic Church in Ireland. He narrates a series of events over the course of multiple years in his life which have shaped him to be the man lying face-down on the earth, wondering if things could have been different, had he only been someone else. He is surrounded by people bold enough to put thought into action regardless if these choices are good or bad. The reader meets Odran in a compromising position, one that leaves our roaming eyes with that same reflection; had Odran been anyone else, had the circumstances been anything other than what they are, one might be left with feelings of pity for the poor soul who was meant to drown in the waves that fateful summer day. Yet, I cannot feel anything but anger towards Odran.
This is a book that has left me feeling cheated. I feel annoyed at myself for wanting the main character to be a good person, for his actions to have carried through & formed a unified front with his inner monologue. However, time after time, Odran proved to me that he was incapable of being honest, of seeking out the protagonist in himself, the one he diligently wanted me to believe he was. Instead, he was the best friend of a repeated & prolific child predator; a man who wanted to sit in the graces of this child abuser because he couldn’t face himself in a mirror to come to terms with the reality of his position, one of a lonely whimpering, rain-drenched leaf at the bottom of a mildew rotten sunken ship, shot down for the war crimes it sought to inflict.
Why do I feel so much annoyance? This is not a question without an answer for I know myself distinctly; understanding that in books I wish to see the change we have avoided in reality. How dare Odran walk back into Aidan’s life after he deliberately allowed someone he knew to be a child sexual predator to roam the boy's house at night? How dare he lie to the face of his own nephew who had to deal with the physical & psychological repercussions of such levels of abuse, only to admit to himself due to the words spoken to him by the perpetrator, that he is also the villain in this story. How dare he.
Yet, how like reality this fictional work is, indeed. So riddled with nuisance as to whom we are meant to trust, whom we are to want to see succeed. I can say confidently that I feel no shame in admitting that they should all burn for such unforgivable things, as those that the children have had to endure at the hands of barbarically inept human beings as the adults in this scenario. Why should I feel conflicted about my sentiments towards Odran? He is, after all, the root cause of the abuse his nephew suffered. I should feel more care to see a four-leaf-clover fly away in the wind than to watch him punished in my field of vision for what he deliberately allowed to happen. However, that is not what this story is asking of the reader. It is easy to point the finger, that is all that happens throughout this story.
When it mattered to speak out, everyone whispered. When it mattered to listen, the ears of the deaf were more attentive. How can this be? However difficult it is to admit, everyone is part of the problem while many are simultaneously a victim of the system. If one is to take Odran’s experiences as a primary example one might wonder when this character was ever meant to revolt against everything he had known. This is a character who had the deaths of his brother & father diminished to darkness in his memory for the level of traumatic upheaval they caused his psyche. However, they nibbled at him still for how could he completely forget what had happened when he was living in the imposed constraints such a tragedy caused his family, within the actions of his religious extremist mother who threw him at the first religious figure she saw because her son was evoking ‘normal’ teenage emotions.
This is not to say that I do not believe that Dissociative Amnesia played a part in Odran’s life, I very much believe that to be the case. However, he was constantly reminded of things he wished to forget — so to say — by the behaviour of his mother. Yet, can we blame her? There was a time when people wanted to trust that religious figures were honest, truthful, & kind people. This is not something we can say is innately wrong for, haven’t we all, at least once, sought in wish or desire, to trust someone? Certainly, we cannot look upon the centuries of religious abuse of power as indicative that these figures of supposed God’s voice, were in fact playthings for the Devil himself, can we?
This is a difficult question to answer, just as there may be one rotten apple in a tree, one needs to examine the trunk to determine whether or not the entity is rotten to the core. So too have religions throughout all of humankind been privy to both honest & dishonest, kind & unkind, people. The Catholic Church was meant to protect its believers, it was meant to give them a reason for being; guiding them with chorus & community into the welcoming hands of their Lord. Yet, these same figureheads found themselves riddled to the brim with child predators. Why is that? Again, we find ourselves with an impossibly difficult question to answer.
One may say that the victims of abuse at the hands of religious figures were suppressed because it seems impossible that a person who proclaimed themselves vocationally inclined in the field, was at once a man of God & a man who abused children. Therefore, one may note that perhaps this was a field of work wherein such barbaric peoples felt comfortable; felt that they could hide in plain sight for who would ever question a person who said to hear the word of God from the Man himself? However, one might also note that for those same reasons, the Catholic Church has highlighted itself as being the epicentre for child sexual abuse because people cannot believe that this would be the place, of all places, where a predator would feel safe to act on their impulses.
By this I mean, we might regard the high number of cases brought to the forefront by those brave children, as being believed because it was impossible that a man of the cloth should be such a horrible person therefore, he should be evicted from the community. Is believing in the goodness at the core of religions bad? No. Is being part of a religion, a community of peers seeking to pray for salvation & grace, bad? No. However, hosting a community of repression & silence, fostering a feeding ground for people who prey on the vulnerability cultivated in wanting to believe in a higher power, is devilishly wrong. 95 Theses & I should think one of them wrung true to the core of the fact.
With these questions, we are brought round to the essence of Odran’s story. Who is at fault for his negligence? It is at once his own fault for deciding that he did not have it within his person to face the facts; his esteemed lifelong friend was a sexual predator, & he was a bad man & Odran ignored this because he did not want to experience confrontation. This leads us to the fault that lies at the hands of those who raised Odran to be the way that he was. The people who thumped him into the ground until he was forever quiet, forever silenced. This is the priest who molested him, it is his father who experienced serious levels of anger & violence, & it is his own mother who willfully ignored the world around her for the security she sought in organized religion.
Our species have been pondering the question of ‘nature versus nurture’ for centuries, if not longer. As with this story, we could be pointing fingers at others forever. What is troublesome is admitting to ourselves, as Odran had to do at the conclusion of this story, that one is responsible for one's own actions, to an extent at least. How easy would it have been for Odran to randomly break the mould he was fitted for upon his birth? How likely would it have been that he would seek to do this because he could not go on as he was? It is impossible to say because he never did either of these. The reader is faced with the difficult decision as to whether or not Odran should be believed & whether or not it is worth their time to trust that this character is remorseful for his neglect.
With that, I will say that this made the reading experience extremely difficult for me. I remain steadfast in my sentiments against those who abuse children; a stance I shall never falter from holding. However, as Boyne wrote onward, I could not help but feel frustrated at his ease; crafting dimensional characters who would be remembered as that kindly, mousy friend, & who would be recalled as the person who unbelievably was the perpetrator of their own experiences on to others. These are the markers of a stellar writer & one who enamoured me in the narrative at once. I wanted to be led through the timeline, I felt intrigued & interested, I wanted to believe that Odran never knew a thing.
Yet, just as Tom refused to speak his truth, choosing instead to repeat the offences done to him in his childhood, so too did Odran recycle the actions transferred to him & so, the finger-seeking blame needs to become ten or twenty. Specifically, when children are involved, it is difficult to say that it was in the hands of one person for aren’t we loath to forgive a parent we deem neglectful, a figure we simply couldn’t believe to be abusive, an adult we thought we knew. Every character in this book plays the villain; every person partakes in the final form that these people have become.
What I found to be the most troublesome aspect of this book are the questions it has left me with. Boyne’s writing swept me into a world that was riddled with ghouls at every turn yet, I wanted to believe that there would be an archangel come to save the day. How can someone write about reality in such a way as to have me hoping against reason that, this time it will be different?
I appreciated the stance the author took at introducing a character who was set apart yet, one who mutilated themselves in their own lies; a character one could be enticed to believe, trust, & hope for. Poor Odran with everyone offering him sandwiches when he wasn’t even hungry. Poor Odran whose father drowned his young brother in a murder-suicide. Poor Odran who finally made a friend only for this person to be a blatant mentally deranged ghoul. Poor Odran who is so like the other passengers on the train so as to melt into the fabric on the seat becoming who he was, no one man at all.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
June 29, 2020
Boyne’s narrative reads effortlessly like floating on a surface of a deep lake with scarcely a ripple of a wave. I was cocooned in a place of comfort by our main protagonist, Father Odran Yates, an Irish priest. As a reader you become entangled in his innocuous shroud of naiveté that he persists on holding on to. You slowly realize that the smooth lake and the cocoon is prescribed submission and privy to an unimaginable deception.
Boyne through his fictional account tells about sexual abuse of children by the catholic priests in parishes across Ireland. His powerful delivery denunciates the priests that committed such atrocities, as well as the priests that covered up and equally condemns the priests like Father Yates, who remained deliberately oblivious.
It takes Yates 40 years to an agonizing awareness of complicity, when he finally realizes that his own nephew was sexually molested by his clergy friend. In their final reckoning his nephew says “Ireland is rotten. Rotten to the core. I'm sorry, but you priests destroyed it."
Boyne is an excellent writer. Narratively, this is an easy read but subject matter wise it is beyond distressing and rightly so. 4.5 stars.
Boyne through his fictional account tells about sexual abuse of children by the catholic priests in parishes across Ireland. His powerful delivery denunciates the priests that committed such atrocities, as well as the priests that covered up and equally condemns the priests like Father Yates, who remained deliberately oblivious.
It takes Yates 40 years to an agonizing awareness of complicity, when he finally realizes that his own nephew was sexually molested by his clergy friend. In their final reckoning his nephew says “Ireland is rotten. Rotten to the core. I'm sorry, but you priests destroyed it."
Boyne is an excellent writer. Narratively, this is an easy read but subject matter wise it is beyond distressing and rightly so. 4.5 stars.
June 1, 2015
“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”
Rarely has a quote summed up a book so well. Odran Yates is a good man (probably) however he is also naive and prefers to ignore things which he finds uncomfortable. The book follows him from his childhood in 1960’s Ireland to middle age in the present day, from the last glory days of the Catholic Church in Ireland to its death throes.
A man destined to be uninspiring, Odran’s mother pushes him into the priesthood at a time when having a priest in the family was a still subject of pride. For those who may find that concept difficult to appreciate, there was a time in Ireland when having a priest in the family held the same status as having a doctor in the family does in many cultures. It was a big deal, and something to be lauded over the neighbours. Odran is a deeply irritating character, not necessarily unlikable he’s too insipid for that, but none the less irritating. I honestly can’t decide whether he is as naive as he acts, or just in denial and unable to face the corruption and evil surrounding him. He seems to shy away from what would be blatantly obvious to anyone else in his position.
Honestly it is a book full of unlikeable characters. There are no heroes here. Odran’s mother, admittedly due to the harsh hand life has dealt her, is a bitter woman and religious fanatic. Classic Legion of Mary type. Then there is Tom Cardle, once a sympathetic character who becomes completely corrupt and loses all sense of right and wrong, viewing himself as a victim. To be fair he was once a victim but by the end he is also a perpetrator, forfeiting any sympathy we once had. The Archbishop is almost a caricature, full of his own importance, and the divine rights of the Church. He hawks back to what he views as the glory days of John Charles McQuaid, a very real Archbishop of Dublin renowned for his conservatism and the unimaginable (now anyway or indeed to anyone outside of Ireland) power he exerted over politicians, judges, the Garda, the media and indeed every institution of public life. What he said went, went. The only likeable characters are really Hannah, Odran’s strong willed sister, and Pope John Paul I. Hannah refuses to bow to parental pressure and is extremely cynical of the Church when it was still not entirely acceptable to voice such things. At Odran’s ordination she remarks of Pope John Paul II, a man held in deep reverence in Ireland for many years, “That man hates women”. She isn’t entirely wrong. The Church , at least in Ireland had a rather dysfunctional relationship with women to put it mildly. Pope John Paul I is presented as the only person within the Church willing to deal with the corruption which had engrossed it, both in terms of the Vatican Bank and the “problems” in Ireland. Pity he was only Pope for thirty three days. I have no idea how accurate a portrayal it is, but the impression I got was had Pope John Paul I survived history would have been a very different.
This is a bleak book. There’s no two ways about it. Both Odran and the reader are forced to consider how events in Ireland, both within the Church and within society, were allowed to occur. Whether it was the abuse of children at the hands of those charged with their care, or the maddness of the Celtic Tiger, we are left wondering what has happened to this country of our. How did we let this happen? Did we know and choose to ignore it? Why did we let evil endure?
Yet for all that I thoroughly enjoyed it. This is a masterpiece critique of Ireland. Boyne really does not pull the punches. His own concerns, fears and dissatisfaction leap off the page. It is a book all who want to understand Ireland should read. It is a welcome and extreme counterbalance to the twee romantic nonsense that so many believe. This is Ireland, though I hold out more hope for my country then Boyne appears to. I cannot believe that:
Ireland is rotten. Rotten to the core.
Am I as naive as Odran, or just not yet as cynical as Boyne?
Rarely has a quote summed up a book so well. Odran Yates is a good man (probably) however he is also naive and prefers to ignore things which he finds uncomfortable. The book follows him from his childhood in 1960’s Ireland to middle age in the present day, from the last glory days of the Catholic Church in Ireland to its death throes.
A man destined to be uninspiring, Odran’s mother pushes him into the priesthood at a time when having a priest in the family was a still subject of pride. For those who may find that concept difficult to appreciate, there was a time in Ireland when having a priest in the family held the same status as having a doctor in the family does in many cultures. It was a big deal, and something to be lauded over the neighbours. Odran is a deeply irritating character, not necessarily unlikable he’s too insipid for that, but none the less irritating. I honestly can’t decide whether he is as naive as he acts, or just in denial and unable to face the corruption and evil surrounding him. He seems to shy away from what would be blatantly obvious to anyone else in his position.
Honestly it is a book full of unlikeable characters. There are no heroes here. Odran’s mother, admittedly due to the harsh hand life has dealt her, is a bitter woman and religious fanatic. Classic Legion of Mary type. Then there is Tom Cardle, once a sympathetic character who becomes completely corrupt and loses all sense of right and wrong, viewing himself as a victim. To be fair he was once a victim but by the end he is also a perpetrator, forfeiting any sympathy we once had. The Archbishop is almost a caricature, full of his own importance, and the divine rights of the Church. He hawks back to what he views as the glory days of John Charles McQuaid, a very real Archbishop of Dublin renowned for his conservatism and the unimaginable (now anyway or indeed to anyone outside of Ireland) power he exerted over politicians, judges, the Garda, the media and indeed every institution of public life. What he said went, went. The only likeable characters are really Hannah, Odran’s strong willed sister, and Pope John Paul I. Hannah refuses to bow to parental pressure and is extremely cynical of the Church when it was still not entirely acceptable to voice such things. At Odran’s ordination she remarks of Pope John Paul II, a man held in deep reverence in Ireland for many years, “That man hates women”. She isn’t entirely wrong. The Church , at least in Ireland had a rather dysfunctional relationship with women to put it mildly. Pope John Paul I is presented as the only person within the Church willing to deal with the corruption which had engrossed it, both in terms of the Vatican Bank and the “problems” in Ireland. Pity he was only Pope for thirty three days. I have no idea how accurate a portrayal it is, but the impression I got was had Pope John Paul I survived history would have been a very different.
This is a bleak book. There’s no two ways about it. Both Odran and the reader are forced to consider how events in Ireland, both within the Church and within society, were allowed to occur. Whether it was the abuse of children at the hands of those charged with their care, or the maddness of the Celtic Tiger, we are left wondering what has happened to this country of our. How did we let this happen? Did we know and choose to ignore it? Why did we let evil endure?
Yet for all that I thoroughly enjoyed it. This is a masterpiece critique of Ireland. Boyne really does not pull the punches. His own concerns, fears and dissatisfaction leap off the page. It is a book all who want to understand Ireland should read. It is a welcome and extreme counterbalance to the twee romantic nonsense that so many believe. This is Ireland, though I hold out more hope for my country then Boyne appears to. I cannot believe that:
Ireland is rotten. Rotten to the core.
Am I as naive as Odran, or just not yet as cynical as Boyne?
February 28, 2015
St. Patrick has been mythologized as having driven all the snakes out of Ireland, a biblical reference that author John Boyne symbolically dispels in A History of Loneliness, suggesting that the fork-tongued creatures with a primary concern for self-preservation in an institution that has become a worldwide money-making business, rather than uphold its fundamental pledge to protect and to guide its flock to ultimate morality and spiritual health, still infest the Emerald Isle preying on its unsuspecting innocents:
all the children who suffer unto Him.
Boyne weaves actual pedophile crimes of a Dublin priest ( Tony Walsh convicted in 2010), which were, even though known by the Archdiocese as far back as the 1970s*, allowed to continue for decades, concealed by the highest authorities in the Vatican who turned its back, closed its eyes, plugged its ears, and covered its mouth, all to protect its 'Firm.'
Odran Yates is the novel's narrator whose tragic family story starts as early as his boyhood, with the drowning of his younger brother by his father, the latter afterwards committing suicide. Honorable and gentle-natured as Odran is, he sincerely believes he has found his true vocation by entering the priesthood, but when he's called upon to replace his best friend, Father Tom Cardle, at one of the many parishes Cardle had been assigned over the years: needling questions of the goodness of his calling begin to surface. The tale of Odran's revelations and eventual self-awareness moves in a painful, heartbreaking path, treading in guilt-leaden steps with what seems to be his worst failings as a priest and spiritual adviser - emotional connection, keen sense of observation, deep insight and basic instinct.
As Boyne meticulously works the true events into the novel, we observe the 'selective' blindness of those who should have seen, the guilt of those who did not intervene, the anguish and torment of the victims and their families whose lips were forced into silence, the scalding anger of the community no longer trusting the 'man of the cloth,' calling for [the snakes] to: "Get out! Get out of Ireland!" But nothing compares to the immoral principles of the duplicitous organization - who concealed the whole affair and remained unapologetic for it - exposed in the polarizing radio interview with Archbishop Cordington, through which Boyne artfully reflects the findings of the Murphy Report.
I've liked the few books of John Boyne that I've read: The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, This House is Haunted, The Absolutist ; without a doubt, A History of Loneliness is for me the saddest, most compelling and his best written to date.
* See: http://www.theguardian.com/world/2010... and http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/12...
Boyne weaves actual pedophile crimes of a Dublin priest ( Tony Walsh convicted in 2010), which were, even though known by the Archdiocese as far back as the 1970s*, allowed to continue for decades, concealed by the highest authorities in the Vatican who turned its back, closed its eyes, plugged its ears, and covered its mouth, all to protect its 'Firm.'
Odran Yates is the novel's narrator whose tragic family story starts as early as his boyhood, with the drowning of his younger brother by his father, the latter afterwards committing suicide. Honorable and gentle-natured as Odran is, he sincerely believes he has found his true vocation by entering the priesthood, but when he's called upon to replace his best friend, Father Tom Cardle, at one of the many parishes Cardle had been assigned over the years: needling questions of the goodness of his calling begin to surface. The tale of Odran's revelations and eventual self-awareness moves in a painful, heartbreaking path, treading in guilt-leaden steps with what seems to be his worst failings as a priest and spiritual adviser - emotional connection, keen sense of observation, deep insight and basic instinct.
As Boyne meticulously works the true events into the novel, we observe the 'selective' blindness of those who should have seen, the guilt of those who did not intervene, the anguish and torment of the victims and their families whose lips were forced into silence, the scalding anger of the community no longer trusting the 'man of the cloth,' calling for [the snakes] to: "Get out! Get out of Ireland!" But nothing compares to the immoral principles of the duplicitous organization - who concealed the whole affair and remained unapologetic for it - exposed in the polarizing radio interview with Archbishop Cordington, through which Boyne artfully reflects the findings of the Murphy Report.
I've liked the few books of John Boyne that I've read: The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, This House is Haunted, The Absolutist ; without a doubt, A History of Loneliness is for me the saddest, most compelling and his best written to date.
* See: http://www.theguardian.com/world/2010... and http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/12...
February 14, 2016
Indringend...heftig...Een roman over seksueel (macht)misbruik van jongens, door priesters binnen de katholieke kerk in Ierland. Indrukwekkend hoe integer John Boyne dit thema vormgeeft.
Het (on)bewust 'weten' van de priester Odran Yates, over een tijdsbestek van ruim 30 jaar. Het daaruit voortvloeiende schuldgevoel. "En het meest ironische was nog wel dat er een veroordeelde pedofiel(beste vriend, priester Tom Cardle) voor nodig was om me te laten inzien dat ik door te zwijgen net zo schuldig was als alle anderen. Ik had alles geweten, van meet af aan, en ik had er nooit iets mee gedaan. Ik was medeplichtig aan al hun misdaden"
De dood van zijn broertje, de zelfmoord van zijn vader...Vilein beschreven!
Deze roman boeit van de eerste tot de laatste zin. Aanrader!!
Het (on)bewust 'weten' van de priester Odran Yates, over een tijdsbestek van ruim 30 jaar. Het daaruit voortvloeiende schuldgevoel. "En het meest ironische was nog wel dat er een veroordeelde pedofiel(beste vriend, priester Tom Cardle) voor nodig was om me te laten inzien dat ik door te zwijgen net zo schuldig was als alle anderen. Ik had alles geweten, van meet af aan, en ik had er nooit iets mee gedaan. Ik was medeplichtig aan al hun misdaden"
De dood van zijn broertje, de zelfmoord van zijn vader...Vilein beschreven!
Deze roman boeit van de eerste tot de laatste zin. Aanrader!!
February 4, 2015
I never really give a book 5 stars but this is one that richly deserved it. As a former Catholic priest I was totally convinced of the story of Fr Odran Yates, an Irish priest full of idealism but naive and conservative who is caught up in the scandals of the abuse of children by Irish clergy.
This is a harrowing story but totally authentic. Although my experience was not in the Irish Church the story in Australia has been similar with not only the abuse but the cover-up by those in power a scandal that still cries out for some redress.
Boyne has succeeded in presenting this story not as a dry diatribe but through the eyes of human and emotive characters. The dialogue is completely believable and the historical background totally authentic.
The clever device of introducing papal characters add a whole new level to the story, especially highlighting the role and the sudden death of Pope John Paul I.
Here in Australia some of the horrors of child sexual abuse by priests is still slowly being revealed.
It can hardly be less than what happened in Ireland.
This is a harrowing story but totally authentic. Although my experience was not in the Irish Church the story in Australia has been similar with not only the abuse but the cover-up by those in power a scandal that still cries out for some redress.
Boyne has succeeded in presenting this story not as a dry diatribe but through the eyes of human and emotive characters. The dialogue is completely believable and the historical background totally authentic.
The clever device of introducing papal characters add a whole new level to the story, especially highlighting the role and the sudden death of Pope John Paul I.
Here in Australia some of the horrors of child sexual abuse by priests is still slowly being revealed.
It can hardly be less than what happened in Ireland.
March 6, 2015
I was unsure until the end whether or not I was going to give this book 5 stars. Boyne creates a complex portrait of a priest in Ireland before, during and in the aftermath of the clerical abuse scandals. Odran Yates went to the seminary in the early 1970's, at a time when most Irish families yearned to have a son become a priest. Boyne's story describes how young these boys were, and naive. Many did not have vocation, in the sense that Catholics understand vocations. Some were forced into the priesthood. Odran Yates lives a simple but "charmed" life as a teacher in a boy's school in Dublin. The construction of the story, moving between present and past, kept me engaged. Yates discovers truths about the abuse that has been allowed to fester and grow for decades. And by the end of the novel, he learns truths about himself and his life. Another remarkable novel from Boyne.
June 28, 2015
This book made me so incredibly sad, no surprise given its subject matter -- the sex abuse crisis in the Irish Catholic Church. I grew so frustrated in the main character, Father Ordan Yates, and his inability/refusal to see what was really happening around him. But the more I read, the more I appreciated Boyne's choice to tell the story from the perspective of someone within the church. In the end, it all felt honest. Incredibly sad, but honest.
I couldn't put this one down.
I couldn't put this one down.
July 26, 2023
Terrific writing and storytelling!
But the timeline structure interfered with its pace, in my opinion. It opens during 2001 and switches back and forth between 1964 and 2013, totally out of a chronological order.
The development of the storyline was very slow and I didn’t want to pick up the book back, once I have put it down (I read several books between June 21 and June 30, when I was reading this one).
Regardless, this was a very emotional read for me, as it brought me back some bad memories from my childhood, when I was forced to frequent a Protestant church with my father until I was 18 years old, but I did not mind. It just made everything more human and believable.
There is so much family drama.
Some heartbreaking.
The main character is quite naive. He sees no evil. But his account is quite touching.
The topic of sexual abuse by the members of the Catholic Church is quite depressing.
I did not love this book. It is perhaps my least favourite by this author, to date, but I cannot deny his skills as a writer and storyteller, hence my ratings.
But the timeline structure interfered with its pace, in my opinion. It opens during 2001 and switches back and forth between 1964 and 2013, totally out of a chronological order.
The development of the storyline was very slow and I didn’t want to pick up the book back, once I have put it down (I read several books between June 21 and June 30, when I was reading this one).
Regardless, this was a very emotional read for me, as it brought me back some bad memories from my childhood, when I was forced to frequent a Protestant church with my father until I was 18 years old, but I did not mind. It just made everything more human and believable.
There is so much family drama.
Some heartbreaking.
The main character is quite naive. He sees no evil. But his account is quite touching.
The topic of sexual abuse by the members of the Catholic Church is quite depressing.
I did not love this book. It is perhaps my least favourite by this author, to date, but I cannot deny his skills as a writer and storyteller, hence my ratings.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,879 reviews