In early nineties small-town Ireland, the Rabbitte family is met with an unwelcome surprise: daughter Sharon, aged 20, is pregnant. She will not reveal who the father is, much to the consternation of her friends and family. We see their ups and downs as Sharon’s pregnancy progresses.
Whoever buys English language books for my local library has struck again: for some reason it carries book 2, but not book 1 or 3, of the Barrytown Trilogy, and because I am an idiot and did not know this and because figured it was about time I read a Roddy Doyle book, I picked this one up. It’s not really an issue – this one is fine as a standalone – but the anally retentive lit nerd in me kind of regrets not picking up The Commitments – about Shannon’s older brother’s attempts to start a band – before this one.
Nevertheless, I quite enjoyed it, even if it’s more than a little dated in the post-#metoo era. The Rabbitte clan are an eclectic, chaotic bunch who love and hate each other in equal measure. As with any Doyle book – or so I’m told – the writing is barebones with a lot of dialogue and little exposition, but it’s easy enough to follow; I read this one in an afternoon. I loved the somewhat dysfunctional but ultimately caring relationship between the Rabbitte clan; Jimmy Jr’s continued attempts to break into the music business and the young twins’ dancing escapades (and their mother Veronica’s desperation at having to create costumes all the time). The heart of the novel, though, is Sharon and the relationship she has with her father, predictably named Jimmy Sr.
It’s also very funny – in parts. The dialogue is snappy, the characters are deliberately teetering on the edge of cartoons. People are, ultimately, good-natured but ridiculous. However, the book has aged shockingly badly in places. Sharon, for one, cannot remember exactly how she got pregnant, other than that she got very drunk when it happened and it was against her will. She idly wonders if this could be called rape. A scene like this, two and a half decades later, would not be played for laughs or dismissed so carelessly. Doyle, thankfully, has said as much himself.
Either way, as the beating heart of the book, Sharon is a great character. Tough yet vulnerable, not shy and very good at getting people to stop yelling things at her. She’s not someone you want to mess with. Her relationship with her family largely consists of trading barbs to cover the unspoken. It has all the witticisms that make Irish literature such a formidable beast. It’s a sweet book, even if it doesn’t hold up in places.