Review ‘Old God’s Time’ by Sebastian Barry

This was going to be a St Patrick’s Day post so it is a little late. However, it’s superlative Irish storytelling from Sebastian Barry. A restless novel about love, this is cruel life, and this is an ageing retired police officer who sinks in and out of memories, reality and daydreams. Tom Kettle lives in a small dwelling added onto the side of a castle on a stretch of Irish coastline overlooking granite jetties and a rather fetching island “skulking in the near distance.”

Tom’s past may or may not come to haunt him regarding a murder case he was involved in many years ago. He still has his policeman wits about him when the cops come a-knocking and he goes along with the re-opening of a cold case, the death of a well-known priest which seemed an accident and was logged as an accident but modern forensics has reopened the evidence file and started testing old DNA results.

A touch of the surreal here, words weave in and out of Tom’s mind like an hypnotic dance of discomfort, me thinking How did the priest die? Who was involved? What will the DNA testing reveal?
Gradually, old God’s time exposes the past…

The background story ebbs and flows recounting the past and present of Tom’s life, adored wife June and their two children Winnie and Joe. I puzzled over the things he sees, reality or illusions? Who lives, who has died? Mr Tomelty must be his landlord, but the mother, the mysterious others? What is past, what is present, what is true? There are some quite graphic retellings as well. The paedophile priest who horribly abused and traumatised young children. Not a novel for immature or sensitive readers, it does contain adult experiences, thoughts and flashbacks. It would certainly make a strong addition to any book club discussion.

My Favourite Quote
Tom musing “Enough time goes by and it is as if old things never happened.
Things once fresh, immediate, terrible, receding away into old God’s time,
like the walkers walking so far along Killiney Strand that,
as you watch them,
there is a moment when they are only a black speck,
and then they’re gone.”
Page 166 “Old God’s Time” by Sebastian Barry 2023

The mind of author Sebastian Barry must be a complex thing. I cannot describe the intense settings and the lyrical descriptions Barry has used, the language of description I think many Irish writers seem to instinctively master. Page 104 “On remembering towns, Tom thought every single place would be a peg with a memory hanging from it.” Further along, his flight to Mexico was odd but grimly relevant.

This book reminds me of, but is not similar to, “Under Milkwood” by Dylan Thomas and “One Moonlit Night” by Caradog Prichard, both use human strength, sadness and suffering taken almost to an art-form. I also enjoyed the modern twist in “Himself” by Jess Kidd and “Love and Summer” by humanist William Trevor (yes, mixing Irish and Welsh authors) who mastered that dark troublesome inner voice, that unforgettable undercurrent which makes a good story excellent.

On the whole, I wanted Tom to stay safe in his little room overlooking the sea but the direction and pace of this novel had other ideas. It enchanted me. If you like mystery fiction with a twist, you will be swept along by remarkable literary undercurrents with this one.

❤ Gretchen Bernet-Ward

Quick Stories #8 Something Lost Something Found

Ten Days Ten Short Stories

One a day for ten days. I write when I can, do the best I can, and I am willing to put my work out there! My thoughts are Don’t Be Embarrassed, Don’t Make Excuses, Don’t Stop Writing.

Recently I completed a 10-week term on Fridays with U3A Brisbane Creative Writing Group on Zoom and enjoyed the prompts, feedback and general literary discussions. The writers in the group are quite diverse in style and writing content.

The wordcount limit is 500 words and while I found their prompts were ‘forcing’ me to come up with something different each week, I really enjoyed doing it. I was quickly learning how to keep them short and sweet. Edit, edit, edit.

My characters are good, bad and ugly and the majority of the time I had no idea where they came from!

I say write for yourself first and don’t be precious about your words. For better or worse, here are mine—the prompt was Something lost something found.

Something Lost Something Found

When I lost someone precious, I discovered something unique. Inside. I found a hidden strength; strength I never knew existed within my core being. Compassion, knowledge, insights into human nature, a powerful understanding of the love, the joys, the sorrow of being alive. I look beyond the grieving widow, the crying child, the unhappy workers, and I see what is really going on beneath the surface. I’ve been there, experienced the hurt which shows on the faces of struggling men and women. Yet humanity so often hides behind a mask of stoic resignation, and this is accepted. When humanity rises up and protests at the injustices, it is not accepted. Because it causes disruption; it causes people to think, compare, feel uncomfortable. Next time you lose something, think about another person who has nothing left. Their despair at seeing everything destroyed in horrific circumstances; knowing they will never see another, never be the same again; family, home, job, life. I have had that happen to me. It is painful, it scars your heart, your soul for eternity. I carry on but it will always be with me, that’s why I see it in others. My hope is that one day when you too connect with that something within, you grow stronger in the knowledge of humankind. Thus, when a person masks their heartache and begins to stumble, you understand, you can reach out. After loss, empathy is found. Use it wisely, young one.

——© Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2021——

“Generally, emerging writers don’t write every day; some writers don’t stretch themselves; some writers don’t share their work; some writers fear feedback; just do it!” ♥ Gretchen Bernet-Ward

Review ‘The Emporium of Imagination’ Tabitha Bird

A tale of love, loss, grief and healing wrapped in magical realism and suitable for a wide range of readers. Families in this story have lost loved ones and are either handling their grief, not handling it, or ignoring it. They carry suppressed fears, squashed desires, and unfulfilled dreams but The Emporium of Imagination is here to help. And help it does, in the strangest of ways. I know the town of Boonah (and the camel farm) and felt an affinity as the story unfolded but apart from Story Tree café and Blumbergville Clock in High Street, similarities ended there.

A man, a cat and a key arrive with The Emporium and set up shop in the main street of Boonah, offering special ‘phones’, strange notes on scraps of paper and the ability to hear human grief in all its stages. Although this may sound gloomy, at worst depressing, the characters keep things moving, offering the reader many POVs and scenarios ranging from timidity to teen humour, guilt to anger, regret, and worse case scenarios like replaying the death of a loved one. The narrative often has dreamlike suspension of disbelief but the heartache is real.

The iconic clock mentioned in the book is named after the original Blumbergville settlement in Boonah and is made out of old farming and industrial equipment. In 2014, Boonah artist Christopher Trotter created the clock with Boonah clock-maker David Bland designed to mark the town’s rural heritage.

The Emporium’s former custodian, Earlatidge Hubert Umbray, gives way to a new curator who decides not to answer the special ‘phone’ but believes the townspeople of Boonah deserve hope ‘I can’t take that away from them’ although cynical me wonders if it would give false hope? Surely a nicely worded pep talk about getting on with your life and following those cherished dreams would work? However, the story is more restrained than that and gently imparts the whys and wherefores of coping with grief.

I felt the inside of The Emporium was a bit Disney-movie. While I tried to put my own emotions into a character, the practicable side of me could not relate to uncertain concepts. Would a final ‘phone call’ to the recently deceased help the person in mourning, or would it tip them over the brink? Items include Ladybird lollipops (nobody pays for goods); special connections to memorabilia; a notebook which turns up in the oddest places for select clientele; and a subtle cat with an unsubtle name.

In the last pages of the book I found the experiences of author Tabitha Bird just as moving as the characters in the book (poor dear Enoch) but that’s just me. There is an end page headed The Owner’s Guide To Grieving in keeping with The Emporium’s roving notebook, offering the opportunity to write in ‘A quiet space to simply be’. I read a new library book so abstained from writing on the page—I bet someone does.

Now I’m off to bake Bedtime Muffins from Isaac’s (Enoch’s dad) recipe!

♥ Gretchen Bernet-Ward

‘Ebb’ Poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Birdbath IMG_20200123_125042 (12) — ‘Ebb’ by Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950)

Edna St. Vincent Millay was born in Rockland, Maine USA, on 22 February 1892. Edna’s poetry and playwright collections include The Ballad of the Harp-Weaver (Flying Cloud Press 1922) winner of the Pulitzer Prize, and Renascence and Other Poems (Harper 1917)

Edna won a scholarship to Vassar College and became famous during her lifetime for her poetry with its passionate, formal lyrics, her flame-red hair, outspoken political views and unconventional lifestyle. She died on 18 October, 1950, in Austerlitz, New York.

Poets https://poets.org/poem/ebb
Poetry Foundation https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/55993/renascence

♥ Gretchen Bernet-Ward

A Dragon Delivered My Parcel

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I was waiting for the delivery of a book written by UK author Maria Donovan. The title and synopsis of ‘The Chicken Soup Murder’ hint at a delicious yet deadly coming-of-age mystery.

There was scratching at the front door and our well-trained pet dragon stood there with a grin on his face. He had collected the parcel from the letterbox in anticipation of a treat. I patted him on the head and said ‘Good boy’ then picked up the parcel. He whined. I laughed. ‘Okay, I’ll get a couple of nuts’.

Inside the door, I placed the parcel on the sideboard. Underneath was an old rusty toolkit containing old rusty bits and pieces. I selected a couple of flange nuts and one bolt, gave them a squirt with WD40, and went back outside.

Part of the game was a quick toss-and-gulp and if you weren’t ready you’d miss it. I closed the front door on the slobbering noises and went to find a pair of scissors. The Booktopia cardboard was tough but I wrested it open.

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And there was the pristine book I had so eagerly awaited! At the moment, I’ve only read up to Page 20 so I am sorry to disappoint you but my book review will be in another blog post further down the track. As my auntie used to say ‘Keep you in suspenders.’

♥ Gretchen Bernet-Ward

‘Lost and Found’ by Brooke Davis

Millie knows that everything must die and keeps a record of assorted creatures in her Book Of Dead Things. Sadly someone close to her becomes a dead thing too, which causes her mother to do something wrong.

Since Agatha’s husband died, she never leaves the house and shouts at people in the street as they walk by her window. Until she sees Millie across the street.

Karl has lost his beloved wife and just moved into an aged care home. He feels bereft as he watches his son leave. Then he has a light-bulb moment and walks out in search of something.

All three are lost until they find each other and embark on a very unusual journey of discovery, reconciliation and acceptance. A book with sadness, humour and eye-opening revelations as seven year old Millie Bird, eighty-two year old Agatha and eighty-seven year old Karl slowly but surely reveal what lies deep within their hearts.

Lost And Found is the debut novel of Australian author Brooke Davis which caused a literary sensation at the London Book Fair and sparked a bidding war overseas. Davis, who suffered a deeply personal loss, said her ideas coalesced during a long train trip to Perth “A lot of the plot in my novel is based around that trip across the Nullarbor,” Davis said. “The whole novel I think became a process of me trying to work through that loss.”

It is not written in the conventional manner, it does take a couple of pages to assimilate, but then this is half the book’s charm. The funny bits are outrageous, the sorrowful times brought tears to my eyes especially reading about the older characters, and the outback backdrop is superb. Millie is a delight throughout the road trip, a trip which is illogically undertaken yet surprisingly exciting.

The trio endure a bumpy ride but it comes out loud and clear that You Are Never Too Late and You Are Never Too Old. I give it 5-star rating and hope you agree.

♥ Gretchen Bernet-Ward