 |
| Brian Moore: born 25 August 1921 died 11 January 1999 |
On its surface, this novel centers on the obsessive quest of a middle-aged woman to marry her landlady’s brother. Yet, it is so much deeper; having read it more than a decade ago, I am still touched by its memory.
Judith Hearne, in her mid to late forties, was compelled by guilt to nurse her elderly aunt during those years when most young women get married and start families. Apparently, whenever Judith hinted to her aunt her wish to work outside the home and mingle with those her own age, her aunt reminded her of her kindness in taking the orphaned Judith into her home when no-one else was willing to do so. Although never guessed by her as a child, the horrific price of this charity was the absolute sacrifice of the joys and opportunities of her young womanhood.
Thus, in middle-age, Judith’s lack of practice in interacting combined with increasing fear at the thought of spinsterhood were shown by in her speaking in “a high, silly voice”, to any bachelor, until he walked off, having lost any trace of interest in becoming better acquainted.
When this book begins, Judith is subsisting as a piano teacher, having recently rented a room in the home of a widow. Judith’s social life consists of Sunday visits to a family she has known for some years. On some level, she knows her visits are tolerated rather than enjoyed. Still, her paucity of friends is such as to impel her to accept this begrudged acceptance. A further incentive is their custom of serving sherry. Alcohol is the substance which goes some way towards easing the emptiness in Judith Hearne’s soul. Although she hopes this is well-hidden, she has reason to be aware it is not. She has been forced to vacate her previous flat due to disturbances by her drink-induced laughter.
As to her passion, her fixation on marrying focuses upon the above-mentioned brother of her landlady-himself a fellow lodger of sort, living by the dwindling proceeds of a settlement gained via an injury. A down-and-outer, assuming Judith has hoarded savings, he asks her to go out with him one evening. During their talk, he suggests they become joint restaurant owners. When she agrees, he tells her, whilst running his hand down her back, she has found herself a partner. Given her hopes, she interprets this as the beginning of a romantic relationship. Soon, he realizes Judith has little money, while she is forced to accept his interest had been no more than comradely in nature.
By then, however, she has come to believe she cares deeply about him, and if he fails to court her, she will have no choice but to give voice to her feelings. When she does so, his consequent surprise and rejection brings about the nervous collapse which she has thus far kept in abeyance.
Imploding from inner turmoil exacerbated by drink, she seeks the aid of a priest. This supposed man of God, disgusted by her drunken and overwrought state, refuses to speak with her. Her screaming “Let me in! Let me in!” delves far beyond this priestly indifference. In essence, it is her cry to a world which views her needs, her whole life come to that, as futile/irritating. Viewed in its larger sense, her “Let me in!” epitomizes the plea of all those who sense themselves despised overall, just beneath a gauze of civility.
The catharsis of this book, involving other characters which space does not permit mentioning here, helps cleanse away the mists of deceit which have characterized interwoven relationships. Most crucially, Judith reassesses her life, and finds within herself a kind of elegant dignity.
One of the most compelling aspects of this novel lies in its author’s ability to convey powerful emotions without one wasted word. He also combines various styles, sometimes using the narrative voice, while at other times giving characters freedom to let the reader hear their thoughts, beliefs and self-justifications. The fact of our feelings outraged and disgusted by some of these, adds a further dimension of truth to this reading experience.
