I saw somebody highly rate this on Bookstagram, but cannot recall who, sorry. It did propel it up my TBR list, and I’m wondering is it too early to have a favourite book of the year. I was glued to it.
This is a very female story. It’s a very Irish story, and laden with Irish history. It’s multigenerational. We largely hear the stories of Dolores and her daughter Nell. And another character Martina who is midway in age between mother and daughter. I don’t really want to tell the story as it needs to be revealed to the reader. It is about lives that don’t follow a predefined linear path. It’s how speed bumps knock you off course.
I could not believe this was a debut author (1st fiction novel, although she does have a short story book). The writing is scarily perceptive and you feel like you are the person as you read the story. It is so well told.
This is not a light read, do not pick it up if you want escape, but do if you want to dive deep into the mind and emotions of some strong characters and see how they deal with life’s curveballs.
Published by Pan MacMillan, out on the 18 April 2024. I was given a free digital copy from the publisher via @netgalley

Lots of issues tackled here, and most of them done very well I felt.
The strongest part of the story for me was Nell, I felt I connected with her from the opening.
A book that gives plenty to think about in terms womens rights and progress.

Book blogging is a serious business. You have to read greedily, rapidly, objectively. So therefore, it was a genuine pleasure to read this. And if I had read it for pleasure, I’d class it as one of the best novels of recent years. I certainly don’t think I’ll read better in 2024.

It’s a family story, with Nell and Adrienne about to become parents; with Nell’s life, mirroring that of her Mother Dolores. Measured against this is about forty years of Irish history and how women interact with other women. But it’s broader than that, looking at the fulfilling of fighting with your own past when you could just settle for being happy.

For this of you who like comparisons, it has the wabisabi of Kate Sawyer, with the precision of Anne Enright. And as the latter is one of my favourites, I’ll say that she has that precise, slightly aloof edge to her prose. For her first proper novel, this is a stunning debut. My thanks go to Picador for a review copy.

“She sometimes saw rats by the railway track as she cycled to work in the early mornings, or around the back of various restaurants she worked in, and they didn’t scare her, rather they reminded her of herself, the way she skittered around the edges of things, the edges of the city, the edges of life itself.”

Sad, broken, vulnerable women are easily influenced. Powerful prose. Important story.

Niamh Mulvey's debut is about three Irish women, and it covers lots of themes: religion and sex and abortion and coming to terms with sexuality. I liked it overall, although it's not a new favourite – I think it deals with the themes well and the writing was careful and considered (if a little too liberal with using commas instead of other punctuation). The structure was a bit disjointed, but I didn't really mind that in the end; the story is interesting enough to make up for it. My interest has definitely been piqued by Niamh Mulvey!

An overlong novel crammed with "issues" was my overwhelming feeling.

On the surface we follow, rather randomly, back and forth, three generations of Irish women with the backdrop of the abortion debate, the Church, homosexuality, teenage pregnancy, the Celtic Tiger, rebellion, small town living, depression, therapy, education...the list goes on.

For me, there was a nugget of a good book amongst all this but I found the writing one dimensional. It lacked the change of pace that dialogue brings so as went back and forth through the generations, there was no variation in "voice". Whilst the telling of these issues is new, the timbre, or lack of, made me feel swamped in endless description rather than investment in the characters.

Happily, we do not have the trope of Catholic priests. Instead we have The Hermanos, in this instance an international group of evangelising women who weaved their way through the entire story.

I thought that a fluid history of a nation through its small town women was a great foundation for a novel. I was disappointed because I wanted to love it more than I did.

With thanks to Pan Macmillan and NetGalley for allowing me to read and review ahead of publication
#TheAmendments #NetGalley

The Amendments by Niamh Mulvey is an interesting novel that explores themes of women's rights, faith and religion, relationships. I felt that the strongest parts were the ones focused on Nell rather than Dolores and I was particularly impressed by how well Mulvey captures the experience of being depressed.

The Amendments follows three generations of Irish women, from the 1970s to 2018 when Nell and her partner Adrienne are expecting their first child. Nell has agreed to attend therapy with Adrienne. The thought of a having a child terrifies her but she’s prepared to do everything she can to keep her partner, beginning to write the story of how she came to be a rackety young woman, working as a sous-chef in London with no apparent attachment to her family, a story that encompasses tragedy and sexual confusion.

Mulvey’s intricately plotted novel shifts perspectives between Nell and her mother Dolores. Rather like the characters in Mulvey’s short story collection, Hearts and Bones, both are women who reach a juncture in their lives when past events come to the fore. Overarching their stories is the theme of reproductive rights and the waning influence of the Church. Mulvey’s characterisation is strong, neatly confounding stereotypes. Through the experience of Brigid, Dolores and Nell, a carefully nuanced picture emerges of a country which has changed beyond recognition, from the 1970s, when Brigid had no choice but to carry seven children, to her granddaughter’s marriage to the biological mother of their son. A deeply immersive and enjoyable novel, insightful and compassionate.