The Island Child - Molly Aitken

 It's taken me a while to cement my thoughts about this book. It gave me such a lot to think about. The story was Canongate Book's November read-along. Usually when I take part in a read-along I get frustrated by having to stop reading but I found here that I didn't mind nearly so much as there was a deal to consider after I finished each section. 

Firstly I found it hard to believe that this is a debut novel. It felt like the work of a seasoned novelist. Also I thought it joins the impressive oeuvre of exciting fictions to come from Irish writers in recent years. Irish fiction could almost be a genre of its own. 

The prose is exquisite with a dual narrative, the story of Oona and an accompanying lyrical tale, part folk lore, part fairy tale, that mirrors the main narrative in intent. Thematically the novel examines identity, motherhood, growing up, perhaps nature and nurture too, none of which are original themes, indeed they've been covered probably throughout the enduring history of the novel! But it's how they are dealt with that makes the impact. 

Here we are treated to Oona, the girl and Oona, the woman, wife and mother. Born on the island of Inis, Oona the girl dreams of escaping the island which Oona, the woman, does  - or does she? I saw this as a metaphor, wondering if it was herself that Oona was trying to escape from. 

The story is complex emotionally and intellectually and so haunting. The characters are three dimensional and this author somehow manages to convey the essence of these people with economic perfection. No laboured or long winded descriptions - but an instinct for the right words for the right person. 

Oona is so real, so flawed as we all are. You want to hug her, slap her, shake her, soothe her, shout at her but in her flaws you can see some of your own. A victim of emotional neglect in childhood to a degree she does enjoy a solid relationship with her brother, Enda, another flawed character but I loved him. None of her relationships seem straightforward. 

Island life is claustrophobic and there is a sense of darkness and 'not quite rightness' about the place so the reader, too, along with Oona would like to escape. But the sense of relief when she appears to is short lived and it seems she exchanges one restrictive environment for another. 

Motherhood is key and the notion that such a state doesn't come with a book of instructions lays bare the mistakes that are made. It's actually quite heartbreaking. It made me think of my own mother who, in her later years, was so critical of her parenting and all but asked me for my forgiveness. 

So, it is isn't a feel-good read by any stretch but it is haunting and pervades your consciousness for a good while after you've finished it.