Long Island (Picador 2024) is another fine, evocative and literary novel from one of the great writers in English, Colm Toibin. Continuing the tale of Irishwoman Eilis Lacey (from his novel Brooklyn), Toibin narrates the story of her marriage to Italian American plumber Tony Fiorello, one of four brothers, whose families all live together in a ‘compound’ of neighbouring houses on Long Island, inextricably linked through culture and family ties, with Eilis the only odd one out.
Set in 1976, Toibin captures the authenticity and dynamics of close intergenerational family ties with precision, clarity, nuance and poignancy. Now in her forties, Eilis has two teenage children but although living in America for many years, still feels very alone and isolated despite her large, rambling, noisy family of in-laws.
The crucial incident of the story comes at the very beginning, so it is no spoiler: one ordinary day, an Irishman comes to Eilis’ house, asking for her by name. He informs her that his wife is pregnant and that Eilis’ husband, Tony, is the father. He tells her, without prevarication and with a barely controlled fury and certainty, that when the baby is born, he will leave it on her doorstep and have nothing further to do with the child. Wow, talk about an inciting incident!
The story then unfolds as Eilis attempts to come to terms with this devastating and potentially life-changing news. Does Tony know? What will he do? What will his enmeshed mother do? What should Eilis do? Could she abandon a baby? But could she care for another woman’s child? Obviously, she has many choices and there are decisions to be made, and the book unpacks her emotional angst as she copes with the shock and aftermath of the man’s visit.
To say too much more about the plot WOULD be a spoiler, but I can mention that much of the novel is set in Ireland, and that the narrative follows Eilis as she navigates difficult emotional territory and confronting personal desires, feelings and responsibilities. The news of the baby is really only the springboard from which this story – and her journey – takes flight, and it veers into a situation that is completely unexpected but nonetheless devastating, heartbreaking, thought-provoking and inevitable.
The ending is absolute ambiguous perfection.
Toibin’s writing is tight, taut, pressing and intense. His dialogue is pitch perfect and as I read, I could hear the characters’ lovely Irish lilt in my head. His depiction of country Ireland and the individuals and families that live there is quaint yet contemporary. Although the book is set in the seventies, I can well imagine similar emotions and situations now, although of course much has changed regarding the social stigma around an out-of-wedlock baby, and the lack of technology (mobile phones, the internet, etc) that allows Toibin to create pressurised and dramatic scenes.
Every character is drawn with depth and foibles, warmth and a cutting humour. Most of the book is dialogue, with conversations between characters demonstrating what happens in a much more nuanced way than prose alone. Combined with their internal musings and thoughts, we are given valuable and intimate insights into the motivations and actions of different characters, and through Toibin’s skill, are able to sympathise with most of them, even though they all have different goals or reasons for how and why they act. The interiority of their every thought is on display for us to judge and compare, empathise or remonstrate.
The characterisation of Eilis – the intimacy, accuracy and detail – reminds me of Elizabeth Strout’s Olive Kitteridge.
Long Island is a brilliant book written by an author at the top of his game. The intensity of feeling, the broad social issues, the intercontinental and intergenerational dynamics and the personal relationship conflicts and desires will appeal to a wide range of readers.