Girls in their Married Bliss by Edna O'Brien

Has there ever been a more ironic title for a novel? In the third book of O'Brien's 'Country Girls' trilogy we pick up with Cait and Baba to discover they have separately married. Despite the prospect of her independence in London at the end of “The Lonely Girl”, Cait has actually married the problematic older man Eugene, given birth to his child and is in the midst of an affair when the novel begins. Baba has also married a prosperous but dull-witted man who is a poor match for this highly social and sexually forward woman. Neither of these women are content with their lives, let alone feeling anything close to bliss. Along with learning about the developments in these girls' lives which occurred between the novels the most striking thing about this latest instalment is that O'Brien has changed the narrative so it alternates between Cait and Baba's perspective. (Previously, we've been firmly locked in Cait's point of view.) It's quite emotional following the dramatic events of this novel as I've grown to closely know and care about both these girls as they've struggled to achieve their desires while developing into independent women.

At first it's a great novelty getting Baba's brashly unfiltered perspective. However, it soon feels a bit too chaotic as events unfold and it ultimately detracted from my enjoyment of following a story which had previously engrossed me. I'm not sure why O'Brien chose to change the narrative in this way as Baba's voice and point of view always came through clearly enough in the dialogue of previous books. Of course, it's also more gloomy following the girls into their adult lives as all the promise and prospects they enjoyed when they were younger and rebellious have dwindled as they've made certain life choices. It previously seemed like there were educational and professional prospects for them but those have seemingly been put aside. Far from finding personal contentment in motherhood, each woman differently struggles with parenting while being embroiled in relationship difficulties. There's the sad fact that these girls have become bound by the same struggles which inhibited their mothers' livelihood. So it's depressing seeing the cycle continue.

Nonetheless, the novel makes a striking statement about how we all get caught in the “rut of human existence” because of conflicts to do with romance, friendships and living in a community. However, because of the conservative attitudes and the dominant religion in Ireland at that time, these women aren't equipped to deal with and productively discuss the challenges that they face. There's no support network for their issues which are universal but the patriarchy expects them to silently abandon their desires and submit to what's expected of them. They are locked in a perpetual state of “girlhood”. While their difficulties are partly circumstantial they also have personalities which compel them to make some unfortunate choices and they end up perpetuating damaging behaviour. This trilogy also includes an afterward by the author which is really more like a novella and from what I understand O'Brien wrote it several years after completing this third book. Sadly, this only reinforces the sense that rather than being beacons of progress these girls end up damaging those around them and find no fulfilment. It's realistic that things work out this way, but it does make these last instalments relentlessly depressing to read. Previously it felt like the novels achieved a good balance between humour and seriousness. All this meant that I enjoyed this third novel the least of all the books, but O'Brien is such a skilful writer and this trilogy is truly a modern classic in the forthright way it presents the perspective of the young Irish female experience.

The Lonely Girl by Edna O'Brien

It's such a pleasure following this continuing drama about two Irish country girls who are now young women dealing with very adult problems. The story picks up two years after the end of “The Country Girls” when Cait and her spirited friend Baba are living in rented accommodation in Dublin. Both are working and enjoying their status as independent women in the city free from the constraints of family and the religious school of their youth. But, while Baba is consumed with flirting and partying, Cait has recovered from her misjudged romance in the first book and now embarks on a perilous new relationship with Eugene, an older man and documentary filmmaker. They grapple with intimacy and move into his house together though it's still crowded with memories of his first wife (reminiscent of “Rebecca”). Meanwhile, a series of anonymous letters makes Cait's father aware of the perceived inappropriateness of her relations with Eugene. Suddenly she finds herself in danger of being trapped in the constrained family life she thought she'd been freed from. It's a story filled with tense conflict and complex emotions as it charts Cait's continuing development. There are also numerous deliciously funny scenes and heartbreaking moments as Cait struggles to maintain her autonomy and articulate her desires.

While the narrative is primarily concerned with Cait and Baba's current issues it's touching how Cait continues to occasionally reflects upon her childhood and lost mother. There's a tragic moment when she recalls how she never saw her mother happy or even laugh. It adds to the sense of what dreary circumstances her poor mum endured and compounds the sense of grief Cait carries about her loss. She's confronted by blatant hypocrisy from conservative members of society including a priest who excuses her father's excessive drinking because of the climate. While we spend the majority of the story with Cait we also get some interesting insights into Baba's life and how startlingly blasé she is about a pregnancy scare. It's clever though how the narrative hints at more tender emotions beneath her hard exterior especially when it comes to how desperately she wants Cait to accompany her to London. There's also the intriguing mystery of who sent the anonymous letters to Cait and her father. I'm curious if this will ever be resolved or if it will remain a malicious act from the shadows.

There's a very dramatic confrontation at Eugene's house when Cait's father and his friends attempt to retrieve her. More than the tense scene this creates, it feels like a clash between two different factions of Irish society with results which are violent and absurd. The father's cohorts express distinct nationalistic sentiments and paranoia about “foreigners”. It's also telling how both sides seem more concerned with their own self righteousness than Cait's actual welfare. Cait's continuing feelings of guilt and her sympathetic uncertainty about what she really wants in life seem only natural. Her emotional seriousness is counterbalanced so well with Baba's freewheeling attitude. Every time Baba appears her cutting dialogue, eye rolling impatience with Cait and odd pretensions are always hilarious. There are eerie parallels between the ends of the first and second novels where Cait longingly waits for a man's arrival, but this new instalment ends on a much more hopeful note. It leaves me eager to find out where their lives lead next.

The Country Girls by Edna O'Brien

It's exciting reading such an influential book for the first time, but it's also a curious experience since radical elements of the story can already feel familiar. I've read a good amount of recent Irish fiction. So a novel about an Irish girl coming of age, experiencing the oppressive forces of the patriarchy/conservative religion, moving from the country to an independent life in the city and engaging in a romantic relationship with an older man doesn't feel that revolutionary now. But, at the time of its initial publication in 1960, the story presented in “The Country Girls” stirred a lot of controversy as it was condemned by some politicians and religious leaders who even went to the extreme of burning copies of the book.

I can only admire how Edna O'Brien broke boundaries at the time to represent young female experience in her protagonist of Caithleen “Cait” Brady. It's arrestingly portrayed how she must live with a father prone to violent alcohol-fuelled outbursts and amongst a community of men who expect kisses (or more) in exchange for favours. Though her academic prowess earns her a promising scholarship to a convent school she discovers she must contend with mean-spirited nuns and stomach-turning meals (stringy meat and sodden cabbage). Caithleen also develops a romantic infatuation with a figure nicknamed Mr. Gentleman who is married and grooms her for a future affair from the age of fourteen. Together with her longtime friend (frenemy) Bridget “Baba” she moves to Dublin to live for the first time as independent young women. These experiences are vividly conveyed throughly sharply-rendered details and emotional descriptions. So, even if such a storyline may no longer feel entirely new, it remains an utterly captivating tale that's brilliantly written.

Part of the magic of this book is in the minutiae of Caithleen's recollections whether it's glimpsing a woman in a striking sequin dress, carrying a cherished tea service or kindly receiving an iced bun when she's experiencing despair/grief. These are the kinds of small things which resonate with deep personal meaning and serve as important memories so that in turn they also feel special to the reader. Something such as a layer of dust on a cup of milk can feel so real it's like I've experienced it myself. The characterisation is equally as vivid in how even characters who are vile come across as complex and like someone we're likely to encounter on the street. I found it informative the way O'Brien describes the hierarchy amongst the nuns at the school based on their relative education and family status so even these predominantly overbearing figures came across as well rounded. Though Baba is snobbish and acts cruelly towards Caithleen their friendship feels real and layered. Both girls have distinct personalities with positive and negative traits. Baba's relationship with her parents hints at her motivations and why she might act so mean. Most poignantly, like all long standing friendships, their companionship runs hot and cold over the course of many years.

It's also completely understandable why Caithleen would be so enamoured with Mr. Gentleman who seems to be going through something of a mid-life crisis, but their secret affair is very ominous since it's unlikely this pairing will end in happiness. I found myself simultaneously swept up in Caithleen's young romance and extremely nervous about where their passion might lead. The way in which a tenderness builds between them and the awkwardness of other dates Caithleen goes on is so involving that I raced through reading this story. It's a testament to her power as a writer that O'Brien can make characters and subject matter that now feel well-tread feel entirely new and gripping. The only other novel I've read by her is the relatively recent “The Little Red Chairs” and the fact that O'Brien continues to break new ground by writing about politically-contentious subject matter is so impressive. I'm now eager to read the next two books in 'The Country Girls Trilogy' as well as her other work.

The Little Red Chairs by Edna O’Brien

The Syrian refugee crisis this year has made us aware more than ever of the plight of groups of people who have been displaced from their homes and who have to seek refuge in other countries. War, dictatorial oppression and religious extremism give some people no choice but to seek a life elsewhere. In “The Little Red Chairs” Edna O’Brien refers readers back to one of the greatest regional crises in recent history. During the Bosnian war thousands of people in Sarajevo lost their lives as the city was attacked by Serb forces between 1992 and 1995. Many of these people were civilians caught in the crossfire. In 2012 an installation of red chairs in the capital city commemorated the loss of these lives - the most heart-wrenching of all being the 643 little red chairs representing the slain children. It’s remarked in this novel that “there was a time when Sarajevo was thought to be the biggest issue in the world, but that time was no more.” O’Brien takes us back to this time via a circuitous route where the reverberations of war and the people displaced by it are given life in her dramatic and emotionally-complex story.

In a small Irish town of Cloonoila a stranger arrives seeking shelter. This man who becomes an object of intense curiosity soon establishes himself in the town as Dr Vlad, a controversial healer practicing alternative medicine and sex therapy (a practice quickly censored by the disgruntled priesthood.) He’s a man who gradually integrates into the community as he’s desired by many lonely women and inspires friendship with his kindness. His vast learning and cultural interests charm many. Fidelma is a married woman who is most affected by the doctor as she craves a child her husband can’t (or won’t) give her. They engage in a love affair. However, Dr Vlad has a secret past which causes a cataclysmic shock in the community when it is revealed. Fidelma’s life is rocked where the events of the wider world flood into her own circumscribed reality leading to its total annihilation. Now this woman who was so established in her own community must seek refuge elsewhere. She embarks on a process of discovery both to better understand herself and the ever-changing world around her.

A memorial event of the Siege of Sarajevo's 20th anniversary. 11,541 empty chairs symbolized 11,541 victims of the war which were killed during the Siege of Sarajevo

More than any one person, this is a story that belongs to many different immigrants who have settled in Ireland or England. O’Brien gives us the voices of people who work in an array of difficult, low-paid jobs and meet in groups which try to help people who have been displaced, especially a group which supports women who’ve experienced horrendous levels of oppression. These voices burst vibrantly from the page and startle with the pure facts of their experience. We hear people who have escaped their circumstances and who are going through the process of building new lives. “They all carried memories and the essence of their first place, known only to them.” These voices aren’t meant to represent any political message, but show the world as a morally-complex landscape where sinister regimes have led to individual acts of desperation. It also shows how seductive it can be to oppress when you have been oppressed. Ultimately, the author presents how resilient people can be leading them to reinvent themselves and find new communities.