Book review: Fresh talent to keep an eye on

Laura McLoughlin's 'The Many Ghosts of Donahue Byrnes' continuously challenges the idea that you can truly know somebody 

Laura McLoughlin, for a debut author, has managed to keep her words far from static. Picture: Blair McLoughlin

• The Many Ghosts of Donahue Byrnes 
• Laura McLoughlin 
• Bonnier Books, £16.99

In an era where Irish writers and creatives show no sign of slowing down, Laura McLoughlin might be a new voice, but she can effortlessly keep pace with the best of them.

Bringing to the table a cosy yet heartfelt debut that was inspired by John Mayer’s ‘Wildfire’, McLoughlin is certainly one to keep an eye on.

Set in a quaint Irish village, Ballinadrum, the novel opens up on a rather bleak affair: a funeral.

Donahue Byrnes, a well-known and much-beloved hotel owner, has recently passed away. While the church is packed with mourners, 22-year-old Mia Anne Moran silently stews in the pew. 

The formal and monochromic display is not what the hotelier would have wanted, she is convinced, as she dons a pink hydrangea pin, his favoured flower.

Mia is not merely mourning the death of an important figure in the community, but she is grieving for her boss, her mentor, and perhaps most importantly, her friend. 

A waitress at Ballinadrum’s sole hotel, Mia’s childhood had many interesting characters, but Donahue Byrnes was the biggest.

He spun her playful stories of ghost tales, many of which, he said, were first-hand experiences that he found himself involved in. 

When she grew old enough to work at the hotel, which is coincidentally her favourite place, Donahue alluded to a ‘special role’ that he claims would require “a little time-travelling, and an absurd faith”, but his untimely death meant that the role would be forever shrouded in mystery, much to the dismay of Mia. 

That is until Donahue’s prodigal son, Cormac, arrives.

The father and son’s well-documented rocky relationship was known to the locals, but the exact details of what drove Cormac away from both his home and family have remained unknown. 

But one thing is for certain, he has arrived back in Ballinadrum for only one reason: to sell the hotel. 

His plan, however, gets slightly more complicated when guests start complaining about strange, unexplainable, and downright haunted activity. 

Forced to confide in the young waitress, it turns out that the hotel has a few uninvited residents residing in the abandoned wing — and now it’s Mia’s job, the role Donahue always meant for her to have, to help the ghostly beings move on.

‘That’s love for you,’ Ruby said and she pressed a luminous lipstick stain to Mia’s cheek. ‘Though I’d have thought you knew that already.’

McLoughlin’s writing does not remain stationary on the page like many debuts, but leaps and dances in vivid, ghostly hues. 

She expertly juggles the subplot in tandem with time-demanding ghosts, a skill many experienced writers still might struggle with, and which the character of Mia certainly does. 

While she is constantly on call in case havoc is wreaked in the hotel, Mia’s personal life begins to suffer. 

Soon to be married to her fiancé, Rosco, the wedding plans drift to the side, a problem which the husband-to-be takes to heart.

While Mia is off conversing with ghosts, a tone of anxiety is running through the pages — and it’s not because of the undead souls. 

McLoughlin hammers home the uneasy fear that comes with existing in uncertain circumstances and turns the phrase ‘better the devil you know’ successfully on its head.

The Many Ghosts of Donahue Byrnes continuously challenges the idea that you can truly know somebody. 

The story revolves around the concept of memory, mainly how we remember those who we have lost, and how we react when those notions are challenged.

McLoughlin brilliantly allows the reader to experience both of these sides through Mia’s reminiscing of Donahue and the person she built him up to be — while she struggles to piece together the pasts of her newfound ghost companions.

‘You know the most impossible stories are the most fun to tell, don’t you?’