City of Bohane: A Novel

As we all know, there are a hoard of pseudo-critics whose sole purpose here is to hype the work of friends or who are paid to favor a book for compensation. There are as well - unfortunately - critic wannabes who pen lengthy ersatz literary reviews by pulling up every cliche learned in creative writing 101. Screw that: read the damn book. It's original, populated with characters of depth, and rolls out a good story line. If you don't like it, come back and tell me I'm wrong (you won't).

What Mr. Barry achieves with this novel is a sweet-as-it-is-bleak tale of the underworldly doings of a mythical, if not prescient depiction of a town in the not-too-distant future. His use of the Bohane argot to tell of lost love, lost souls, and lost time imbues this story with a poignant beauty that is the very stuff of Legend. The City of Bohane is an experience as much as a read, and will leave a palpable impression that I expect will linger with me for days if not years. An exquisite piece of literature and beacon of hope for the future of writing.

This is not a great work of plotting or character development. There is no tremendous insight that bubbles up or any deep satiric or other voice at work that has huge things to teach the reader. What there is though is a really terrific writer at work writing an immensely well crafted and entertaining story. The language of the book is funny, clever, deeply sad in spots, and always just what it needs to be to involve the reader in what is going on in the narrative. I didn't really care too much what happened to any of the characters, but I was very invested in finding out how it would be described.

Mr. Barry also manages to communicate a strong sense of place; the west of Ireland that isn't really the west of Ireland, but is perhaps more the west of Ireland than the actual place. He credits Anthony Burgess as a major influence, which he obviously was, and like Burgess, he manages to take the imagination into the most important parts of place, in a sense its emotional touch points, while being very comfortable taking all sorts of liberties with description; Bohane is like Burgess' Britain or any number of fantastic sights around the world that couldn't possibly be but come off as absolutely authentic.

His characters tend to be types and he is a painterly narrator, showing us the image of the old woman and the whiskey, the boys with the homicidal boot heals and carefully arranged hair, etc., and providing them with dialogue that perfectly suits the image and associations his descriptions conjure up. I thoroughly enjoyed this book and Beatlebone as well.

Astounding book. I keep trying to find meaningful ways to describe City of Bohane to my friends. I repeatedly fail to come up with any rendering or synopsis that does any sort of justice to the brilliance of the author's use of language, he appears to toy with it but again that does not describe the linguistic acrobatics that Mr. Barry performs with what appears to be apparent ease. Given how amazingly complex and sophisticated the author's writing is, his ability to move effortlessly and seamlessly about in time, place and character allows him to make these realms his own and his characters as well. Kevin Barry weaves an astonishing tapestry that is so utterly engaging it simply must be read and savored.If you do not get your paws on this novel and manage to read it you are doing yourself a tremendous disservice.

This is a novel and difficult to typify. It is the story of territorial power struggle between the putative brokers who ply a region with which you are most likely unfamiliar. The City of Bohane is the center of the universe gravitationally affecting such planets as the Dunes, the North Country, and other surrounds. The area is connected by the 98 steps which if you are familiar with the east side of the greater Detroit area you will recognize as the 94 corridor complete with its very own 8 Mile. To keep this novel from over running my imagination I repositioned the turf as Grosse Pointe, St Clair Shores, the lower East Side, Belle Isle, Eastern Market, and Mt Clemens. The river which flows through and defines the setting of this futuristic, perhaps post apocalyptic (lost years) story is simply the Detroit River. But make no mistake; this is Ireland and the time frame is the 2050's. A cadre of characters reminiscent of a younger Godfather, Lucy Liu straight out of Kill Bill, a group of lieutenants with an eye on being the top dog in the second level, and the Huns at the gate, ghost around the landscape.

The apparent locus of influence, Logan Hartnet (Long Fella), despite his smooth operation and dangerous, if only edgy, persona is, as it turns out, not the true power that rocks the throne. That trophy goes to his mom Girly, an enormous reclusive John Jameson drinking presence who seems to be equally addicted to her "room" and the past, and especially the American acting scene from 1950's Hollywood. At age 90 she know two things: 1. time will take her out & 2. her son, the heir apparent, is weak in ways not evident to the adoring populace.

When you start this wonderful tale you may want to take some notes. Unless you are familiar with futuristic Irish street slang and back country vernacular it will feel initially like you are reading this novel in another language. (Tell ye this for thruppence: many a yella moon has shone on the glorified pig's Mickey that is the Bohane peninsula since we had seen the likes of an eight-family mobbed descent off the Northside Rises.) The character development is deliberately obscure and fed to you like puppy scraps. You are glad in the end that you didn't know then what you don't know now (apologies to Bob Seger). I may have missed it but I never did figure out who was narrating this saga. I don't think it matters but it may have been that omnipresent "observer" we are all familiar with.

There are two things missing from that brave new world and I only noticed this after a quarter of the book. There are no motor vehicles and despite some very brutal, explicit, but not gratuitous, violence there are no guns. The weapons of choice are steel toed boots and knives of varying types and sizes. If you are familiar with the Irish riots depicted in the Gangs of New York you'll get the picture. The names are the stuff of mafia nostalgia: Ol Boy, Big Dom, Prince Tubby, Eyes, Wolfie, etc.

But wait... could this be a love story, too? The Godfather's wife is Macu (think im'macu'late) and she was and is a beauty despite an odd flaw. From out of the past (25 years) a one time suitor, Gant, is back in town. He is big, good looking, charismatic, clever and wants, apparently what could have been his. The years have been good to him and he still turns the heads of men and women alike. If you're looking for the main theme you might find that it is lost in the minor plays and a struggle for survival in a bizarre terrain which I almost always pictured as that sepia toned backdrop every Mad Max fan knows and loves. There is no hard ending but you will recognize the concept of a new status quo as a beginning and if you were going to write this book, in retrospect, that is the way you would. 3* GIBO

City of Bohane is an odd novel about a gang war and love contest in a hard-edged Irish city set in 2056. Barry constructs the narrative carefully: A glancing encounter in the very first chapter between a dapper, vicious old school gang boss and young seemingly inconsequential foul-mouthed Irish shopgirl of Asian descent proves enormously portentous in the novel’s arc, even though it lasts no longer than a smoke.

But the star in this novel is the language: a lilting, lyrical, smashing mash-up of alliteration, rhythm, jargon, invented words, dialect, obscenity, and relentlessly creative ethnic and gender slurs. (Needless to say, this novel isn’t for the faint of heart from a PC perspective.) The dialect takes some getting used to (similar to, say, Trainspotting). Indeed, much is incomprehensible in the first chapter: while “hoors” and “polis” are reasonably intelligible, other words come clear only later. But Barry’s trademark slashing, one-sentence paragraphs are like knife fights. His lyricism is infectious. To pick a phrase almost at random: “an orphan clutch of pine trees sang in the dark haze as hardwind careened off the crested dunes.”

The second major character here is Bohane itself, a violent rundown tribal city that is nowhere anyone wants to live. It is a used ashtray of a city running with gutter ruin, but suffused with nostalgia for “lost-times” and a kind of aging violent dignity. Nevertheless, its residents remain perversely proud of the city and their survival in it (until, of course, they die, which many do in the course of this story).

Aside from these two main characters (language and city), Barry also draws a cast of fine human characters battling for control of the city. Each at first seems to be a sort of noir type, but their flaws proliferate to turn them inside out. They age badly but not so badly as might be. They are flawed champions in an outrageous dress. While men dominate, this is a novel of female empowerment. The heroines include a female ethnically-mixed gang of “snogging” former “hoors” orchestrated by bedridden elderly matriarch still proud of her figure in a mirror.

Those seeking tidy endings will be disappointed by City of Bohane, which is capped by magnificent, evocative irresolution. The triumphant haunting image that marks the conclusion shows a wonderful mix of rural and urban grotesque.

This is not as strong a novel as Barry’s later novel Night Boat to Tangiers, but it is nevertheless a dark delight.

The City of Bohane is set in a sort of dystopian future Ireland. Gangs run the streets and every night there is blood. This is not a story for the faint of heart. It is filled with gratuitous violence with much stomping of steel-toed boots and stabbing. That does not mean that this book does not deserve a great rating. The promise of this book thrilled me, however, I found no great insight from the book. The author, Kevin Barry, has crafted a world filled with all types of characters: drunks, prostitutes, the ringleaders, the gang members, each one is a brilliant creation that provides life to this tale. Having been to Ireland, I could see the Ireland he described.

There is no skimming this book. Instead of flowing down the story like I was on a lazy river ride, I had to point my brain at the piece and say “Read this, and comprehend.” It is brilliant with every word, but only to those who have the patience to read through the dialect and the slag used – which was a drawback. As someone who does not comprehend Irish slang, this was rough. Given that Barry is an Irish writer, I’ll take his words on the meanings of this futuristic slang provided, though I would like a glossary. The love story that seems to sit at the heart of the piece may be the only rock to cling to in the book. It was a lovely hint of sweetness in the otherwise dark dystopia between Macu – the wife of Logan “Long Fella” Hartnett – and her old sweetheart, the Gant. This is not our world we read of, this is the world of people like Don Corleone: either you respect them, or they will make you respect them. In this case, the true power is Hartnett’s mother, Girly. She reigns over her son from her darkened hotel room, and he in turn reigns over the Hartnett Fancy against the Norries of the Northside Rises.

To me, there was no ending to this book. Normally this would set me away from ever reading it again, but I did see what ending I believe Barry wanted us to see: the change in the city of Bohane and her status quo.

I've enjoyed Kevin Barry's short stories and was excited to pick up his first novel.

This is a rich, dense gangland saga set in a strange Irish seaside town of Bohane. Strange because although ostensibly set on Ireland's west coast, Barry draws such a vivid picture it's a place that's all his own.

"Smoketown was hoors, herb, fetish parlours, grog pits, needle alleys, dream salons and Chinese restaurants".

Just when you think you've got a handle on the scene, with two warring gangs, up pops a third: a tribe of semi-wild aborigines who speak Jamaican patois.

It's equally difficult to pinpoint exactly when this is set: at times, it feels like dandified Teddy Boy Britain, at other times, futuristic, but it's a future in which technology has failed us, and humankind has reverted to no tech tribal warfare. Mercifully, there's not a mobile phone in sight.

Barry has acknowledged the influence of Anthony Burgess, and like the Manchester master, he has invented a language all his own: "Cusacks gonna sulk up a welt o' vengeance by 'n' by and if yer askin' me, like? A rake of them tossers bullin' down off the Rises is the las' thing Smoketown need."

This immerses you even further into his strange world, and it's a rewarding, if alarming experience.

As with Burgess' Clockwork Orange there are some startling scenes of ultraviolence.

Our hero, if you can call him such, is The Gant, who, after a long period of banishment, returns to Bohane to: do what exactly? We think it's to confront his one time nemesis, Logan, the gangleader who bosses this place, and has the politicians, police and newspapers all in his pocket. But I was never sure exactly what his motives were.

At its heart there is a touching love story, and the language is delightful and thrilling, but I felt the story rather petered out towards the end.

Set in the future (or at least in a place that believes 2053 has long past) The City of Bohane is a brutal place run by gangsta Irish, and their 'hoors'

In this future, or alternative universe, language is much changed. For some this will mean an original refreshing novel, for some (myself) this will mean a confusing mash of bizarre prose and difficult to follow plot.

While an obvious comparison is made to A Clockwork Orange, Barry fails to achieve the same level of moral, political and personal commentary that Anthony Burgess did.

My personal reaction:

Frustration, the authors use of "Gant wore" "Ol'boy saw" continually broke the fourth wall, and reminded me I was reading a story, not immersed in the story.

Barry also couldn't seem to commit fully to a new language, much of the narration and 'letters' characters wrote to each other were in standard english, despite their conversation being completely in 'Bohane speak.'

Ultimately while City of Bohane is a great achievement for Barry, in terms of reader experience the ideas could have been done with a novella or even short story.