Book Notes: An Irish tale of strength from grief
"Nora Webster," by Colm Toíbín. Scribner, New York, 2014. 384 pages. $27.
Colm Toíbín's newest novel, "Nora Webster," is set in the late 1960s and early '70s in County Wexford in southeast Ireland.
The political and religious conflicts play out noisily to the north while 44-year-old Nora Webster, mother of four and just widowed, slowly, deliberately feels her way forward.
We learn very little about Maurice, Nora's husband who dies of a heart condition. What we learn comes a sentence at a time, over time. We do find out that he is a highly respected teacher and beloved by all in the small community in which he lives and raises his family.
This respect translates into community support for Nora and her children after his death. Her older two daughters, Aine and Fiona, are fairly self-sufficient and rather detached. Fiona is already in college studying to teach, as well.
The younger two, Conor and Donal, are watchful, wary boys. Donal has developed a stutter since his father's death and Conor is drawn fast to photography. Both boys concern Nora, but Maurice's death distances them from each other.
Though we know this is a story of grief and reclamation, Toíbín the storyteller shows us a Nora immersed in the details of her daily life. We must, to a large extent, infer the grief this family carries.
Grief is measured by the ambivalence with which Nora receives callers in the evenings, by the conviction with which she confronts a headmaster who moves her son Conor to a class of lesser academic stature, by the way she works to lower and quiet the pitch and tone of her voice as she sings for the first time in decades.
The bereaved go on living, and Toíbín creates a willful character, softened and fulfilled by marriage and motherhood, then severed from comfort and normalcy by the death of Maurice.
Looking at life in this very detailed way, not knowing from minute to minute the nature of what's to come, exposes an inherent and worrisome tension. Maurice was suddenly taken ill and died a few months later, leaving Nora and her family stunned and vulnerable.
It's as if Nora moves from problem to problem — from lack of money to selling the summer cottage to starting work with an adversarial boss to defying peer pressures to joining the union and spending scarce money on music — as if pushing against some pressing tide. We are as watchful and wary as the two boys, who sit, observant of their mother, worried about what is to happen next.
Notable in "Nora Webster" is the simple, plain storytelling that quietly builds to a single stunning moment of understanding — a plateau of light reached by simply navigating the sentences one by one.
Notable, as well, is the straightforward way that Nora addresses each situation. She is well served by her quick and true responses. On some significant matters, like standing up to her boss or joining the union, she acts quickly and without second guessing.
Contrary to her decisiveness is a pressure to conform. She lives in a small town and she weighs the likely judgment wielded for each decision she considers.
Yet many people step up to help this contrary woman. "Nora Webster" is full of interesting, differentiated characters — all made from the same kind of quiet, careful writing. All of these people add something important to her life. Music, which she reconnects with, is transformative for the way that it brings her out of herself, to places of great content and emotion.
As time passes, Nora grows even more emboldened in her efforts to rebuild a home for herself and her family. The new carpets, draperies, and fireplace matter. She tries painting the ceiling herself and suffers debilitating pain. This cathartic remaking of home is, in fact, a declaration of self.
Home is where she longs to be, with her music, her family and her books.
Rae Padilla Francoeur's memoir, "Free Fall: A Late-in-Life Love Affair," is available online or in some bookstores. Write her at rae.francoeur@verizon.net. Read her blog at freefallrae.blogspot.com or follow her @RaeAF.