The Wren, the Wren

No one writes like Enright, and while the structure and topics of this novel are not strikingly different from earlier work, she again triumphs in this three generational tale of women connected by a single man. A gifted, blustering, unreliable figure of a man who disappears, leaving his mark. I wasn’t surprised by the book, but I relished it all the same.

This book was a nice surprise; alternating between three generations of an Irish family (Phil, the grandfather; Carmel, the mother; and Nell, the daughter), Enright unravels a quiet story about how closely one can come to know and understand their own loved ones.

From the first chapter, which is from Nell’s perspective, I was expecting a different kind of story—a sort of millennial malaise narrative in the vein of Sally Rooney maybe (which I would have also enjoyed!). But the introduction of Carmel and Phil’s POVs adds a lot of depth and tenderness to the novel. Each section has a distinct voice and lovely writing (particularly in Phil’s—the poet, naturally). The way Enright structures these sections is so clever; in my reading, the central tension of the book is the distance between the characters, and in particular, the distance Carmel feels between her father and her daughter. Nell and Phil’s sections are in 1st person, and they seem to be the center of their own universes. But Carmel’s are in 3rd—almost replicating this distance Carmel feels with her family, between her and the reader.

I felt for each of these characters, even at their worst moments. Enright’s sympathy for them, the careful nuances of their personalities, and the meandering nonlinear structure gives the book a very forgiving, human feeling. It’s a sentimental and personal book, but never feels bogged down by this; Enright’s wit and clever prose keeps it perfectly balanced. Would recommend for fans of Lorrie Moore or Alice Munro. I’ll definitely be picking up more of her books in the future.

Thanks to Netgalley and W. W. Norton for the e-arc 🐦‍⬛

The opening pages of this novel were stunning and I haven't been able to keep thinking about them since reading it last month. Enright has structured the novel brilliantly to give readers a sense of the generational trauma, angst, passion, and purpose surging between mother and daughter. The questions posed about the purpose of art and the legacy of the artist as a real human being were important and profound. I loved this book and it will absolutely be on my Fall Reading Guide. Public review to come on @fictionmatters and fictionmatters.substack.com