Product Description

At the heart of the "Memoir" is a son's unembarrassed tribute to his mother. His memory of walks with her through the narrow lanes to the country schools where she taught and his happiness as she named for him the wild flowers on the bank remained conscious and unconscious presences for the rest of his life. A classic family story, told with exceptional restraint and tenderness, "Memoir" cannot fail to move all those who read it.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #80115 in Books
• Published on: 2006-06-01
• Original language: English
• Binding: Paperback
• 288 pages

Review
"'Ireland's greatest living novelist.' Observer"

Customer Reviews

Vivid map of author's unique terrain
If you are already familiar with the novels and short stories of John McGahern then not much of this will come as a surprise: the overbearing father; the mother’s death; the recurrent allure of Oakport.

But this compelling autobiography is far more than a journey over old ground: in ordering and expanding those elements he has used in his fiction, McGahern has finally given us a vivid, comprehensive map of his unique terrain. It can be read and enjoyed in its own right but there is an additional pleasure in seeing the scattered pieces of his fiction assembling themselves into a single coherent shape.

McGahern’s relationship with his brutal father dominates the book but this is no howl of rage or score-settling: the son examines his father as far as he is able (and there is a pleasure for the reader in the precision of that examination) but by the end seems to accept there is only so much he can understand. And despite the strong shadow his father casts, joy is interwoven throughout the account, in his relationship with his mother, in his capacity for delight in the familiar landscape (even when carrying out the many tasks imposed on him by his father) and in the moments of stolen solitariness in the boat at Oakport which prefigure his becoming a writer.

Shorn of sentimentality or pseudo-poeticism, John McGahern’s Memoir feels like the culmination of his writing life. I cannot recommend it highly enough.

an evocative and wistful delight
I have read that, sadly, John McGahern has recently died. I spent most of Boxing Day 05 reading this book, in virtually one shot as I could hardly bear to put it down, it was such a delight to read. It is beautifully written and tells the story of the author's Irish childhood and of how it placed him intellectually and emotionally as an adult in the larger world. It reads honestly, his love for his mother is intensely moving, the writing is rhythmical and measured. It made me cry, but my tears were unusual, because they were not drawn from easy sentimentality or from pity. I felt grateful to the author for sharing an emotionally lucid and truthful recollection of his early life which drew me into his family in his world, so far from my own.

The master has passed
The master has passed and we must learn to go on without him.

He once wrote the writer's task was "to look after his sentences, nothing more". And so it is. But his sentences were always lost in the reality he touched - often painful, sometimes beautiful. He was unfailingly brave.

Memoir maybe confirms things we already knew, or things we once glimpsed, in his life and in ours, for sure in mine. It's an account of his childhood, the non-fictional version of his fiction - as if these terms made any sense with regard to his work.

As it turns out, he was tidying up before he would pass. And now he's gone.

Thank you, John McGahern, for everything.