Irish author Colm Tóibín’s latest collection of nine short stories explores themes of loss, identity, and the often opaque nature of personal and historical memory. The narratives are anchored by characters who frequently travel alone, navigating uncertain futures shaped by fragmented pasts and fragile connections with others.
The collection opens with “The Journey to Galway,” inspired by Lady Gregory’s account of the death of her son Robert, a World War I fighter pilot. The story follows a woman on her way to inform her daughter-in-law of Robert’s death, unfolding through a series of confined settings—a drawing room, a train compartment, and a solitary window—that reflect the emotional containment of grief. The woman’s attempt to soften the blow of loss by recounting its circumstances also reveals deeper tensions: the complexities of Robert’s relationships and the fraught history of an Irish woman mourning a son who died fighting for Britain. The story subtly touches on unresolved national questions, contrasting the son’s death within the imperial war with the alternative of execution following the Easter Rising.
Tóibín’s skill lies in weaving individual dramas with broader historical and social undercurrents. In “A Free Man,” a former prisoner recently released in Barcelona struggles with reintegration, confronting both bureaucratic obstacles and an opaque self-perception. The character, Joe, is burdened by a troubling past involving sexual abuse, and his negotiation of everyday tasks like opening bank accounts illustrates his alienation from the world and himself.
The motif of departure and return runs through several stories, reflecting common themes in Irish literature. “Five Bridges” centers on Paul, an undocumented Irish immigrant in the United States who prepares to return home before immigration authorities deport him. His imagined legacy—abandoned socks stuffed with cash—underscores the dislocation and impermanence of migrant life. The title story moves between Dublin and the smaller town of Enniscorthy, highlighting the symbolic as well as geographic distance within Ireland itself.
The most extensive story, “The Catalan Girls,” employs a narrative façade to delve into identity, memory, and familial roles. It begins with Montse confined in a house under mysterious threats, but this suspense soon gives way to a layered backstory involving her and her sisters—Núria and Conxita—Spanish émigrés to Argentina who have inherited a home in the Pyrenees. Each sister’s persona—Montse as the stoic caretaker, Núria as a social chameleon, and Conxita as a companion with ambiguous boundaries—reveals a complex interplay of resilience, disguise, and unfulfilled desires. The story resists neat resolution, ending with Montse’s solitary confinement paralleling an uncertain future.
Throughout the collection, Tóibín maintains a precise, controlled prose style that deftly balances intimate personal moments with wider historical reflections. His characters negotiate loss and identity amid shifting landscapes—both physical and psychological—leaving readers with a sense of ambiguity and the enduring human effort to find meaning in fractured experience.