Books: the story of the Viennese café that never got a name
This week there’s the story of a Viennese café that never got a name. There’s a collection of essays about films, a novel about a child gone missing, another about a foundling, and a return to Ireland from London where plans go awry.
The Café With No Name, Robert Seethaler, Canongate, €24
It’s 1966, 21 years since the end of the war, but Vienna is still struggling. Robert Simon, a labourer and jack-of-all-trades, spots a derelict café near the city’s main market and makes enquiries. He obtains the lease, and if he continues to live in his modest lodgings with his landlady, the war widow Martha Pohl, he’ll manage. After a slow start, the café gets busy enough for Robert to hire Mila, who has just been made redundant from a textiles factory in the city.
This is no sweeping epic, but rather a study of a changing city from the perspective of its ordinary citizens in a run-down neighbourhood. The subway is being built, there’s vacuum-packed meat in the supermarkets, adversely affecting the street market’s butcher. There’s a stream of Yugoslavian immigrants and instances of too much drink being taken. Simon loses three of his fingers when the boiler explodes. Over 10 years, the reader sees the city drag itself into the late 20th century while still hankering after the old days. It’s a charming work, nostalgic but unsentimental and Katy Derbyshire’s translation is superb.
In the Good Seats, Various, PVA, €15
It’s another collection of essays from the publisher who brought two previous collections into the world; Running Feet, Sharp Noses, an anthology of essays about animals, and You Spin me Round, a collection of essays about music. Film is the topic here, and there are 14 essays from the likes of Ali Smith, Ian Maleny, Cathy Sweeney and plenty more, reflecting on what the movies mean to them and how they may have influenced their work. The Wizard of Oz is here, and the film that shot William Hurt to prominence in 1980, the odd Altered States. Ingmar Bergman’s Summer with Monika is here too. Some essays focus on a single film and the impact it has made on the writer, others give a back catalogue of movies that have stayed with them. What is consistent is the quality of the writing, as well as the various strolls down the rabbit-holes all over Memory Lane. A little book with a big sweep, it’s a good one for the movie buffs.
The Stolen Child, Carmel Harrington, Headline, €15.99
While on board a cruise ship in the Mediterranean, Kimberley’s two-year-old son Robert vanishes overnight. Kimberley and husband Jason are determined to find him. His sister Lily is, thankfully, still with her parents but although the boat is thoroughly searched, there’s no sign of the little boy. A subsequent full-scale investigation yields nothing. Robert is never found.
Fast forward 40 years and Lily is a therapist, working from home, married to Michael. A potential new client for Lily calls to say that he knows the truth behind Robert’s disappearance. But can this guy be trusted? Using multiple timelines and locations, Harrington keeps the suspense going throughout and it builds intensely to a sock punch of an ending. In an afterword, Harrington tells a true story from her own life, where her little son almost went missing in Orlando. Thankfully he was OK, but the incident sparked a lot of ‘what ifs’ in the author’s head. This novel is the result, and she’s made a riveting read of it, difficult to put down.
The Boy From the Sea, Garrett Carr, Picador, €16.99
A heartwarming novel this, about the family of fisherman Ambrose Bonnar, and particularly about the foundling ‘son’ he and his wife reared. He was found on Killybegs beach in 1973 and christened Brendan, after the voyager. Nobody knows who the parents are, and Ambrose figures his home is as good as any for the child. His own natural son Declan, two years old, has other ideas. In fact, Declan’s world changes profoundly with the arrival of Brendan and he’s not too pleased. Not at the start and not ever, especially since Brendan seems to capture the heart of the local people as he grows up.
This novel is told in the most unusual first-person plural, like the people of the town are narrating it. The opening sentences give you a good idea of how it goes. ‘We were a hardy people, raised facing the Atlantic. A few thousand men, women and children clinging to the coast and trying to stay dry.’ This is latter-day Killybegs where almost everyone made their living from the sea, not the 21st century tourist hub with its frou-frou eateries. And the novel is charming, funny and tender, bringing to mind Niall Williams’ 2019 masterpiece, This is Happiness. Highly recommended.
The Wardrobe Department, Elaine Garvey, Canongate, €15.99
In a novel about not belonging in one place or the other, Mairéad must take time off work in London, where she’s a seamstress in a rather dilapidated West End theatre currently staging Chekhov’s Uncle Vanya. Her grandmother dies in the days before Easter and Mairéad returns to her home town. This is naughties Ireland and London, and I must say the atmosphere is equally bleak in both countries. Mairéad wants to study in London but can’t afford it, working in a job that pays so badly. But she certainly doesn’t want to be stuck back home either. However, back home is where she finds herself, and for longer than she had planned. The portrait of a family here is particularly well drawn and familiar too, for those of us who’d already reached adulthood by the turn of the century. ‘They will love you if you have money,’ her mother observes about the locals. And Mairéad is broke! An elegantly written read.
Footnotes
The Five Lamps Arts Festival is running from March 24 until April 6 in various venues across Dublin’s north city centre, with a diverse programme of events. See fivelampsarts.ie for programme and details.
If you’re down Limerick way next week, the Catalyst International Film Festival runs from April 3 to April 5. See catalystinernationalfilmfestival.com for details.