Scan barcode
drewmoody321's review against another edition
5.0
Read my full review here: http://thepulitzerblog.wordpress.com/2013/01/17/entry-62-the-edge-of-sadness-by-edwin-oconnor-1962/
dcmr's review against another edition
3.0
A soft and slow-to-unfold story. A gentle, drowsy novel with great character description, comprised primarily of well-written dialogue that made characters vivid. I'm not sure I like this book, but I'm glad to have read it.
redroofcolleen's review against another edition
4.0
Though this novel won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction nine years before I was even a twinkle in either of my parents’ eyes (1962), it seemed, to me, at least, that it could have been written today, as it speaks to the quite contemporary issues of faith, family, friendship, and healing.
The Edge of Sadness follows Hugh Kennedy, a recovering alcoholic, as he returns to Boston and his damaged priesthood after a four year sojourn in the desert southwest. The story centers around Father Hugh’s re-acquaintance with the Carmody family: the often charming and devilishly cruel patriarch Charlie, his son, Father John of the dazzlingly ideal parish, St. Raymond’s, his daughter, Helen, and a colorful host of siblings, children, grandchildren, and friends.
Father Hugh, once a highly regarded priest in a fairly well-to-do parish, is now leading a rather rag tag flock at Old Saint Paul’s, a poor and crumbling parish just outside of his old neighborhood. His one curate, Father Danowski, often to Father Hugh’s chagrin and sometimes his delight, is an eternal and energetic optimist, always trusting that new life will be breathed into Old Saint Paul’s, returning the parish to it’s glory days.
At 640 pages, the novel is a leisurely drive in the country, as Edwin O’Connor carefully unfolds the stories of the tricky relationships between the Carmody’s, the reasons for Father Hugh’s fall from grace and his assignment at Old Saint Paul’s, as well as the inner life of a priest. Though it hardly painted an idyllic portrait of family, priesthood, or parish life, I found the story beautiful and magnetic in it’s honesty. For isn’t it encouraging to imagine that even men of the cloth have the same struggles with prayer, envy, trust, and above all, faith, as the laity? I had a hard time putting it down.
The Edge of Sadness follows Hugh Kennedy, a recovering alcoholic, as he returns to Boston and his damaged priesthood after a four year sojourn in the desert southwest. The story centers around Father Hugh’s re-acquaintance with the Carmody family: the often charming and devilishly cruel patriarch Charlie, his son, Father John of the dazzlingly ideal parish, St. Raymond’s, his daughter, Helen, and a colorful host of siblings, children, grandchildren, and friends.
Father Hugh, once a highly regarded priest in a fairly well-to-do parish, is now leading a rather rag tag flock at Old Saint Paul’s, a poor and crumbling parish just outside of his old neighborhood. His one curate, Father Danowski, often to Father Hugh’s chagrin and sometimes his delight, is an eternal and energetic optimist, always trusting that new life will be breathed into Old Saint Paul’s, returning the parish to it’s glory days.
At 640 pages, the novel is a leisurely drive in the country, as Edwin O’Connor carefully unfolds the stories of the tricky relationships between the Carmody’s, the reasons for Father Hugh’s fall from grace and his assignment at Old Saint Paul’s, as well as the inner life of a priest. Though it hardly painted an idyllic portrait of family, priesthood, or parish life, I found the story beautiful and magnetic in it’s honesty. For isn’t it encouraging to imagine that even men of the cloth have the same struggles with prayer, envy, trust, and above all, faith, as the laity? I had a hard time putting it down.
katecurry's review against another edition
dark
emotional
funny
hopeful
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
thenschultz's review against another edition
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
leighnonymous's review against another edition
4.0
I have mixed feelings about this because of the subject but the book deserves four stars, at least, so that's what I'm giving it. The author did not have the courage to tackle the subject of an omnipotent and benevolent god and pain and suffering for the good; instead, he merely mentioned that it was a struggle and moved on. This is insufficient. The narrator was clearly a very intelligent and compassionate man; if anyone could have done the subject justice it should have been him. Father Hugh cared deeply about others but only through the windows of his self-built prison. He did good for good's sake and supplied kind words when they were due.
And his job was dull and monotonous. And he liked it that way because he didn't have to think about how things could/should have been different. I connected with him; he didn't like getting up early, tuned out when people spoke, felt like he was going through the motions without feeling anything, and struggled with his own demons internally. He rarely mentioned God. I liked him quite a bit.
I want to point out that this book made me laugh out loud and it's not often that that happens. Charlie's birthday party speech devolved into a scene of insanity, with geriatric guests arguing loudly about the proper care of dwarfs (they can't be kept nice and dry or they'll die, so leave them in a tree trunk) and raging about custard. There were several great scenes like that - some of the best comedy in literature, I think.
The moral and ethical situation Father Hugh eventually gets into surprised me. This priest was as human as human could be and did the right thing, I think. Immoral? That's relative. Like I wrote, he's a compassionate man. Compassion trumps absolute rules.
This was one of the better Pulitzer winners.
And his job was dull and monotonous. And he liked it that way because he didn't have to think about how things could/should have been different. I connected with him; he didn't like getting up early, tuned out when people spoke, felt like he was going through the motions without feeling anything, and struggled with his own demons internally. He rarely mentioned God. I liked him quite a bit.
I want to point out that this book made me laugh out loud and it's not often that that happens. Charlie's birthday party speech devolved into a scene of insanity, with geriatric guests arguing loudly about the proper care of dwarfs (they can't be kept nice and dry or they'll die, so leave them in a tree trunk) and raging about custard. There were several great scenes like that - some of the best comedy in literature, I think.
The moral and ethical situation Father Hugh eventually gets into surprised me. This priest was as human as human could be and did the right thing, I think. Immoral? That's relative. Like I wrote, he's a compassionate man. Compassion trumps absolute rules.
This was one of the better Pulitzer winners.
wathohuc's review against another edition
5.0
I loved this book. As a Catholic myself, I could really appreciate the context in which the book rested. One of the things I loved about the book was that it was never preachy nor saccharine. Theology was never the real point of the story, though it’s also never far from the surface as a meaningful orientation of the spirit. It was perhaps overly introspective, meditative and reflective, but not overbearingly so. In some respects, it reminded me of Robinson’s “Gilead.” It has a sentiment of restful resignation and peace about it. As for the writing itself, it was quite good, I thought. Never forced or fake. The characters were all richly developed and complex, though each character did represent a type of sorts. It’s perhaps the best Catholic novel I’ve read. Better even than Graham Greene, I’d say. It’s told from the perspective of a Catholic priest and provides a remarkable and beautiful human view of priesthood, human frailty, grief, suffering, and relationships. I highly recommend it. Definitely worthy of a Pulitzer.
grace_theliteraryfiend's review against another edition
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.25
eileen9311's review against another edition
5.0
I came upon this treasure by following some goodreads threads, and was initially daunted by the sheer length as it’s over six hundred pages. However, after I began there was no doubt it was a keeper! Perhaps my Catholic faith contributed to the enchantment, but that wasn’t the only draw. The writing was exquisite in a quiet way. This tale of a priest in his middle years had a haunting quality, although melancholia certainly didn’t prevail. In fact, I found myself laughing out loud more than once. The author has marvelous powers of description as well as a keen eye for eccentricities, both subtle and otherwise! Dear to his heart are the Irish parishioners, of course, whom he portrays with a gentle accuracy. Here he reflects on the chatter going on around him in the church hall:
‘The conversation continued for some moments………., and as I listened to it, with amusement and delight and nostalgia, it was so familiar to me that it almost seemed as if I’d never been away from it – and this in spite of the fact that I hadn’t heard it for years. But it was the same talk with which I’d grown up, the talk that belonged, really, to another era, and that now must have been close to disappearing, the talk of old men and old women for whom the simple business of talking had always been the one great recreation. .And so the result was the long, winding, old-fashioned parade of extraordinary reminiscence and anecdote and parochial prejudice and crotchety improbable behavior.’
The varied supporting characters lend both color and depth to this very moving story. There’s Father Hugh Kennedy’s assistant, Father Danowski, an earnest, newly ordained priest of Polish extraction, who has a clumsiness about him, and yet is most endearing. Also, colorful Charlie Carmody, from his father’s generation, who revels in flawed reminiscences:
‘…it was never hard for me to watch and listen as this little, incredibly lively old man bounded about the rectory reception room, bubbling out his exuberant monologues, each one a virtuoso’s grab bag of gossip, extravagant self-praise, spurious compliments to me, crocodile tears, unlikely reports of kindly deeds performed, and - above all – eloquent recollections of the vital, parochial, picturesque, and vanished world in which he and my father had been young…’
How poignantly he captures a feeling, touches a nerve; Here O’Connor mentions a moment which will undoubtedly come to most of us:
‘An old priest who was dying, one of the saintliest men I have ever known, one of those who had the greatest reason to expect God’s favor, many years ago surprised me, by telling me with a little smile, that now that he was going, he wanted desperately to stay. A single memory can do it, he said. And I suppose he was right. The memory of an instant – of a smile, of leaf smoke on a sharp fall day, of a golden streak across a rain-washed morning, of a small boy seated alone on the seashore, solemnly building his medieval castles – just this one, single, final flash of memory can be enough to make us want to stay forever….. '
I’m so happy that I discovered this one, which won the Pulizer prize in 1962. It was difficult to resist repeated quotes, so rich was the writing!
‘The conversation continued for some moments………., and as I listened to it, with amusement and delight and nostalgia, it was so familiar to me that it almost seemed as if I’d never been away from it – and this in spite of the fact that I hadn’t heard it for years. But it was the same talk with which I’d grown up, the talk that belonged, really, to another era, and that now must have been close to disappearing, the talk of old men and old women for whom the simple business of talking had always been the one great recreation. .And so the result was the long, winding, old-fashioned parade of extraordinary reminiscence and anecdote and parochial prejudice and crotchety improbable behavior.’
The varied supporting characters lend both color and depth to this very moving story. There’s Father Hugh Kennedy’s assistant, Father Danowski, an earnest, newly ordained priest of Polish extraction, who has a clumsiness about him, and yet is most endearing. Also, colorful Charlie Carmody, from his father’s generation, who revels in flawed reminiscences:
‘…it was never hard for me to watch and listen as this little, incredibly lively old man bounded about the rectory reception room, bubbling out his exuberant monologues, each one a virtuoso’s grab bag of gossip, extravagant self-praise, spurious compliments to me, crocodile tears, unlikely reports of kindly deeds performed, and - above all – eloquent recollections of the vital, parochial, picturesque, and vanished world in which he and my father had been young…’
How poignantly he captures a feeling, touches a nerve; Here O’Connor mentions a moment which will undoubtedly come to most of us:
‘An old priest who was dying, one of the saintliest men I have ever known, one of those who had the greatest reason to expect God’s favor, many years ago surprised me, by telling me with a little smile, that now that he was going, he wanted desperately to stay. A single memory can do it, he said. And I suppose he was right. The memory of an instant – of a smile, of leaf smoke on a sharp fall day, of a golden streak across a rain-washed morning, of a small boy seated alone on the seashore, solemnly building his medieval castles – just this one, single, final flash of memory can be enough to make us want to stay forever….. '
I’m so happy that I discovered this one, which won the Pulizer prize in 1962. It was difficult to resist repeated quotes, so rich was the writing!