The Gamal by Ciarán Collins
My rating: 4/5 cats
if you are looking for a straight-ahead narrative where the events are laid out in a clear, linear fashion, and you always know what is right around the bend, this is not your book. from the outset, we are told that this is a book for people who hate reading.
and that is because of our reluctant, unreliable narrator, who is writing this “story” at the behest of his psychiatrist, who intends it to be a cathartic, cleansing exercise to help him overcome a trauma. but our narrator, charlie, intends it to be sold so he can make enough money to get out of where he is, and go make a new life for himself, far away from his reputation.
and you should give him your money, because although it can be a bit unwieldy at times, i thought it was really enjoyable.
charlie is the titular gamal, short for the irish gamalóg, which basically means “fool.” but still waters run deep. he tells us from the outset he has been diagnosed with ODD; oppositional defiance disorder, which basically means that he is hardwired to be incapable of doing what people want him to do. including writing this account of his experiences. he will frequently interrupt his own narrative with images, blank lines for the reader to write in the lyrics to specific, meaningful songs so he won’t have to pay for the rights, and gibberish, just to get to his psychiatrist’s preordained word-count. but charlie is no fool. he has been underestimated his whole life, and has found that the less people expect of you, intellectually, the more they will consider you to be like a pet, and say things and let down their guard in a way that might someday become useful. and charlie capitalizes on this treatment, with his admirable aural recall and his quiet machinations.
charlie manages to manipulate everyone around him, including the reader.
the trauma he is being treated for involves the only two people who ever saw charlie as he actually is, or who came the closest: his only friends, james and sinéad. and although it is pretty clear what will be their fate from the outset, i am going to gloss it for those who are spoiler-wary and don’t know how to read book-jackets.
james and sinéad met very young, and became instantly inseparable. theirs was a bond of music and “otherness.” sinéad comes from an abusive household, but has a room-stilling singing voice, while james is a newcomer to the village, a protestant among catholics. their bond is cemented young, irreversible, and changes as they grow older from closest friends to romantic partners. charlie is more than their mascot and their chaperone; they see him for what he really is, as like will recognize like. the three of them can get lost in music and in daydreaming of a better life, and while charlie is largely a silent participant in their teenage hangouts, he is very much an important part of the circle.
the resentment of james-and-sinéad comes from the small-minded residents of the village: jealous of their youth, beauty, talent, opportunities, james’ wealth and athletic prowess, and the intensity of their bond. charlie is largely overlooked, and in this role, he is able to learn a great deal about the way people view his friends, and the way petty people deal with jealousy. he watches, he listens, he judges.
again, the “what” of the trauma is not the big secret, nor the “why.” this is more of a character study than a true mystery. but it is a hell of a character.
the way the story unfolds is its true attraction; the way charlie will toy with the reader and bring them close to a point of revelation only to backtrack and fill the remaining word-allotment with digressions, anecdotes, images, or blather.
but do not sell him short, like so many of his neighbors do, there is so much meaning in the madness.
and although we-as-reader are being toyed with, we still see the holes in the presentation; holes charlie is quick to plug, but the seeds of doubt are planted, and the savvy reader knows what to do with the ambiguity of the ending.
it is a remarkable debut novel, and although it is a little on the long side, and the digital version is missing some of the artwork, it is definitely worth reading, if you like the work of mcgrath or mccabe or william trevor. it is more playful and less self-consciously bleak as those writers tend to be, but collins’ narrater is definitely in their realm.
really good stuff.
read my book reviews on goodreads
