Confessions by Catherine Airey
In Catherine Airey's debut, an epic family saga unfolds across generations and countries, capturing the entanglements of the Irish-American experience
A great debut is always to be cherished – we are introduced to a new voice able to change how we view the world – and Catherine Airey’s Confessions is just such a book. It’s such a stylish novel in terms of how the writer has chosen to tell these stories: there’s a confidence and clarity which is rare, and you have to take pause to fully appreciate it. The characters are compelling and completely believable, memorable literary creations each and every one, but it’s the way they interact, and how the stories are woven together, which is most impressive. It’s an unexpected evocation of the Irish-American experience with the mythologies of both Ireland and New York feeding into each other, their respective attraction increasing as events unfold.
Opening with Cora’s story, portentously set in New York in 2001, a family saga unfolds back and forth across the Atlantic (and time) which is simultaneously epic and intimate. As the various narrators’ trials and tribulations are related, the need for love and the support of others is exploited and abused, and what seems to be the kindness of strangers proves ultimately to have self-regard at its heart. However, empathy, forgiveness and compassion lead to hope as the generations come to better understand each other, and themselves. Confessions points to both the strength and weaknesses evident in the human condition, but also how, if we are lucky enough, we can not only survive but thrive.
