Love: A Novel

Several years ago an author I respect told a hilarious story about spending a year in Ireland, writing a novel there, then hiding it away so that it "never would see light of day." His reasoning was that he felt he lacked the mastery of the rhythm of the brogue, so essential to any story based in Ireland. (He ended up making all the characters deaf, which made all present roar.) Roddy Doyle, being a native, has no such problem. This account of a night-long pub crawl by two old friends who haven't seen one another in some time, is almost entirely dialogue. It could almost serve as a script by itself. I had problems with some of the content, but the foul mouthed, increasingly incoherent exchanges rang true, and the observations of one of the two characters were truly moving.

I am interested in the Irish culture. The story was about 2 men who had been close friends but drifted apart to become only acquaintances until major life changes occurred later in life. It wasn't what I expected. The only culture was that of the Irish pub, which did feel accurate. I may have enjoyed it more if i had not had erroneous expectations. The writing was done in conversation style and I sometimes had to stop and re-read to figure out which man was speaking. Not my favorite.

A graceful yet foot-stomping trek through life through the lens of two late middle-agers (verge of 60) reuniting for the first time in years. David, the narrator, comes back to Dublin from his home in England, and they relive their sodden youths over many pints together. They also mark a changed, altered, Dublin. The ravages of time unfold in a gentle, humane work propelled by sharp and real dialogue. Brilliant.

Some reviews complained of repetition in the book, but it felt like real conversation to me. I loved it. But then I'm a committed Roddy Doyle fan.

Pints go down. Calls of nature, since the lads are lads in the Irish sense, being in their 60's, spending hours at the pub, the pubs, telling the story of their shared youth, their separate adulthoods, since one left for the UK. Wives. Girlfriends. Sex. Love. Rarely work. An engagement party. Children. Love. Hate. The hours pass. Then revelations. Things which hadn't been shared. Could have been, but weren't shared. An amazing achievement which could find itself on the stage.

From the tight focus of the opening, the story widens to contain a whole community of quiet lives, each of which is changed by the disappearance of two young sisters. The mystery holds this well constructed story together, but it is the subtlety of characterization, the author's respect for the ways in which individual lives are shaped, that made me sorry to leave the world Phillips has created. Beautifully written.

I never say “grand,” but these Irishmen do, and I disappeared into their world. A real world. Or maybe it wasn’t. Either way, I felt part of it every pint along the way, and I thank Roddy Doyle for that. Brilliant!

I loved the characters. The dialogue became a bit redundant after awhile, but I was glad to have read this novel.

I loved this book at the start. I liked the premise and as a man not quite as old as the characters but certainly having the occasional pub visit with an old acquaintance I could relate to that strange old bond but little in common dynamic.I also think the book is one of the best pieces of writing based on conversation and also one of the best representations of drunkenness.However, as my title suggest you very much feel like the sober driver amongst drunk friends. Happy to go along with ambience at the start of the evening but irritated by the rambling incoherence at the end.I can't make my mind up whether the book took me anywhere. There was no revelation at the end and I did not really feel it had something to say about the subjects it covered.I am glad I read it but not the writers finest and I cant help feeling it could have said more but it just got lost in the pint glass.

I was fascinated by this at the start but it seemed to stall mid-way through. Also, I imagine that men and women will respond differently to this long overnight conversation between two men in various Dublin bars about the people they love. As a female, I was very heartened to hear how much they loved the women in their lives. But the subject is a very ambitious one and, with the two men becoming more drunk, it must have been hard to write. One tale of love seemed compelling at the start but became uncertain by the end. And another tale seemed almost to appear from nowhere.

Two 60ish year old men look at their love lives. I've always felt there is one especially boring topic in any conversation: sexuality discussed in drink! This book reinforces that thought big time. What pathetic self-pity repeated ad nauseam! What a huge amount of alcohol they could consume, despite each of them claiming to drink very little. Certainly not the best of Roddy Doyle.

Must admit I had three starts at this book initially struggling to engage with the flow of the narrative but it suddenly clicked and I read it in one go. Basically a long conversation between friends in pubs around Dublin. Not as accessible as the Barrytown trilogy but well worth reading.

Two menTalkingListeningDrinkingJudgingReflectingThinkingLovingRegrettingWonderingLaughingLosingLosingSharingA brave, honest and sometimes frustratingly real-time conversation between two blokes you probably know a bit.