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furzy's review
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-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
4.0
booksandquilts's review against another edition
dark
funny
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
siria's review against another edition
dark
sad
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
The kind of quietly devastating book that you finish and then need to just sit and stare at a blank wall for a moment while saying "oof" softly to yourself. Brian Moore's portrait of the chronically lonely Judith Hearne, a 40-something spinster clinging desperately to her fading gentility in 1950s Belfast is a well-observed one: a bleak look at woman imprisoning herself in a grisaille world.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Racial slurs and Rape
mgreer56's review
challenging
dark
emotional
sad
medium-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
4.0
mimosaeyes's review against another edition
3.0
Lucid and raw prose. Judith Hearne is a spinster with a secret: she is an alcoholic. Her addiction torments her since it is sin in the eyes of her faith, and her lonely lifestyle leads her to painfully misread the intentions of the only man who pays her any heed. But this novel is not only about her individual tragedy; it speaks to broader social problems through Moore's great rendering of different voices and perspectives.
Content warnings for.
Content warnings for
Spoiler
alcoholism, religious questioning, and dub-con to non-con relations between an underaged maid (sixteen years old) and two different adult men in their thirties and fifties respectivelyliralen's review against another edition
4.0
Judith Hearne is a pious and rather sanctimonious Irishwoman in the 1950s. She hasn't had an easy go at life: her chance at true independence dashed by an ill aunt; her hopes for marriage dashed by age and plainness; her desire to be a woman of class brought down by her very limited means. As the novel opens, she has just moved into a new boardinghouse and is scraping by on a pityingly small annuity and the few music lessons she teaches. She can find little to recommend the other boarders, who in turn can find little to recommend her, and moreover, Miss Hearne is nursing a secret that, in the conservative Catholicism of 1950s Northern Ireland, could be her complete undoing.
What's so wonderful here is that although so few of the characters sound pleasant to be around, including Miss Hearne, Moore somehow manages to elicit sympathy for her. We see Judith Hearne writing and rewriting history so that she's more comfortable with it, and we see her looking down her nose at people who are very little different than herself (but with, perhaps, less to hide). We also see her few friends groaning and preparing for an afternoon of total boredom as they see her come up the path. She has done herself few favours—but life has not been kind to her, either. You see it when Miss Hearne dreams of coming home to a man who might kiss her hello or might beat her for some perceived failing: she's lost hope of a healthy relationship. She'd be happy with just about any relationship, just to stop feeling so lonely. You see it again at the end, when she suddenly, clearly recognises the difference between friendship and pity. It's hard to see how things will ever really improve for her, but...somehow, you hope they will.
It's also quite understated, all things considered. A character who seems as likely as not to invest other people's money and lose it; a rape; alcoholism; a young maid entangled with the landlady's unappealing adult son. (I'd love to read Mary's story...) Yet there are so many ways in which Moore could have made things far more dramatic. By sliding carefully, casually away from those traps, he lets there be devastation in various characters' wakes without causing major explosions on the page.
What's so wonderful here is that although so few of the characters sound pleasant to be around, including Miss Hearne, Moore somehow manages to elicit sympathy for her. We see Judith Hearne writing and rewriting history so that she's more comfortable with it, and we see her looking down her nose at people who are very little different than herself (but with, perhaps, less to hide). We also see her few friends groaning and preparing for an afternoon of total boredom as they see her come up the path. She has done herself few favours—but life has not been kind to her, either. You see it when Miss Hearne dreams of coming home to a man who might kiss her hello or might beat her for some perceived failing: she's lost hope of a healthy relationship. She'd be happy with just about any relationship, just to stop feeling so lonely. You see it again at the end, when she suddenly, clearly recognises the difference between friendship and pity. It's hard to see how things will ever really improve for her, but...somehow, you hope they will.
It's also quite understated, all things considered. A character who seems as likely as not to invest other people's money and lose it; a rape; alcoholism; a young maid entangled with the landlady's unappealing adult son. (I'd love to read Mary's story...) Yet there are so many ways in which Moore could have made things far more dramatic. By sliding carefully, casually away from those traps, he lets there be devastation in various characters' wakes without causing major explosions on the page.
rosebudglow's review against another edition
2.0
One of those authors whose books I'd be happy to read if he wrote less about women. Like I appreciate the effort but it's just...like...not...
tasmanian_bibliophile's review against another edition
4.0
‘The first thing Miss Judith Hearne unpacked in her new lodgings was the silver-framed photograph of her aunt.’
Miss Judith Hearne moves into a room in Mrs Henry Rice’s boarding house after her aunt dies and leaves her homeless. The setting is post-war Belfast and Judith Hearne is now in her forties. When she was younger, she gave up her job to look after her aunt. Her aunt, who lingered on through some years of dementia, her aunt who (Judith thought) would make provision for her. But Judith’s aunt D’Arcy would never discuss money, and a long period of illness has a way of making inroads into resources. Judith has an annuity of £100 a year:
‘… and nobody in the whole length and breadth of Ireland could on a hundred pounds a year nowadays.’
She also has a handful of students to whom she teaches piano.
The picture I have, in dull shades of grey, is of an unremarkable life lived within boundaries both imposed and assumed, and largely unquestioned.
We learn that Judith has one social outing each week: a lavish afternoon tea with the O’Neill family who dread her visits (but could not possibly tell her so).
And into this dreary grey story comes James Patrick Madden, the brother of Mrs Henry Rice. A braggart whose self-importance catches Judith’s attention. She dreams of a relationship, while he sees a potential source of money to fund his investments. Self-delusion meets opportunism.
No, it does not end well. Judith is trapped in an unforgiving world, one keen to judge her. Not much compassion here for a woman whose life spirals out of control.
‘And now?
What will become of me, am I to grow old in a room, year by year, until they take me to a poor-house?’
There is no beauty in this bitter story, just great skill in holding a reader’s attention while depicting various shades of grey in a life lived passively.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
Miss Judith Hearne moves into a room in Mrs Henry Rice’s boarding house after her aunt dies and leaves her homeless. The setting is post-war Belfast and Judith Hearne is now in her forties. When she was younger, she gave up her job to look after her aunt. Her aunt, who lingered on through some years of dementia, her aunt who (Judith thought) would make provision for her. But Judith’s aunt D’Arcy would never discuss money, and a long period of illness has a way of making inroads into resources. Judith has an annuity of £100 a year:
‘… and nobody in the whole length and breadth of Ireland could on a hundred pounds a year nowadays.’
She also has a handful of students to whom she teaches piano.
The picture I have, in dull shades of grey, is of an unremarkable life lived within boundaries both imposed and assumed, and largely unquestioned.
We learn that Judith has one social outing each week: a lavish afternoon tea with the O’Neill family who dread her visits (but could not possibly tell her so).
And into this dreary grey story comes James Patrick Madden, the brother of Mrs Henry Rice. A braggart whose self-importance catches Judith’s attention. She dreams of a relationship, while he sees a potential source of money to fund his investments. Self-delusion meets opportunism.
No, it does not end well. Judith is trapped in an unforgiving world, one keen to judge her. Not much compassion here for a woman whose life spirals out of control.
‘And now?
What will become of me, am I to grow old in a room, year by year, until they take me to a poor-house?’
There is no beauty in this bitter story, just great skill in holding a reader’s attention while depicting various shades of grey in a life lived passively.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
psantic's review against another edition
challenging
dark
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.25