The Coast Road (2014)
By Alan Murrin
Harper Via, 305 pages.
★★★★
If you have someone of Irish ancestry on your Christmas list who is a reader, The Coast Road is a quiet powerhouse that explores changing mores in Donegal. First, though, a few things need to be cleared up. This debut work from by Alan Murrin was shortlisted for a Queer Fiction prize in Ireland. This will strike many North Americans as odd, as there are no gay characters. The designation comes from the manner in which the three women at its heart violate the patriarchal norms of 1994. That date is significant as the very next year, voters went to the polls and overwhelmingly approved a referendum that legalized divorce. That vote began to loosen the iron grip upon morality held by the Roman Catholic Church in the Republic of Ireland.
A second confusing oddity is that the novel is set in a small fishing village named Ardglas. There is no such coastal town in Donegal, though there is one in County Down in neighboring Northern Ireland named Ardglass!
At the novel’s core are three women trapped by tradition. It is a matter for debate if the book’s tragic character, Colette Crowley, is the catalyst for discontent, or merely the leading edge of a coming tidal wave of social change. Collette is married to Shaun with whom she has three sons. Shaun is an abusive lout, but and Collette retains enough allure and self-respect that she takes up with a married man. When that relationship dissolves, Shaun denies Collette access to her children or any financial support–all within his legal rights. This sends Collette skedaddling back to her native village in Donegal. There she rents a cottage from Dolores and Donal Mullen. They have three children and another on the way, quite a burden on stay-at-home housewife Dolores, who feels they need the extra income. Donal, though, is as traditional as Shaun and thinks Collette is trouble (though he notes that she’s quite a looker).
Collette has been away for many years and fancies herself a poet; most villagers see her as a free-spirited bohemian who has led a scandalous life. When Collette offers writing lessons at the community centre, those few who sign up are baffled by what a writer actually does. That is, all but bored housewife Izzy Keaveney, a mother of two. She once owned a flower shop in the village but her husband James sold it out from under her when he decided to become a politician and gave priority to appearances rather than his wife’s happiness. James views Collette as a whore and forbids Izzy from associating with her, though the two haven’t communicated much in several decades. She ignores his command. Prior to Collette’s arrival, Father Brian Dempsey was Izzy’s only real friend.
To cut to the chase, we have three unhappy women married to men who believe that toxic masculinity is their birthright. From the standpoint of the hidebound culture of 1994 Ireland, they’re not entirely wrong. Male alcoholism and a mistress on the side are commonplace, with women expected to take care of children and perform domestic duties. Ardglas, though, is a village where people gossip about things they know and think they know. It is, however, true that a steady stream of “visitors” call upon Collette, including James and Donal. It is likewise true that women are beginning to push back, albeit in sneaky ways. Izzy, for example, takes Collette on out-of-town “shopping” excursions where she clandestinely sees one or more of her sons.
The problem with secrets is that they have a distressing tendency to become known. Ardglas is about to become a battleground for the battle of the sexes. Even if you think you know how that turned out, it’s always a good idea to remember that battles produce casualties of all sorts: literal, emotional, social, and psychological. Murrin perhaps telegraphs the damages more than he should, but The Coast Road is remarkably mature as a first novel. Murrin does a first-rate job in getting inside the logic of his main characters and of spinning a strongly plotted tale. Perhaps best of all, though his prose isn’t showy, it is evocative and emotive. The Coast Road makes a fine gift to be sure, to be sure.
Rob Weir