Books of the year: 2024 shows its literary power with these books

From Alan Hollinghurst’s book of the decade to Neil Jordan’s excellent memoir, along with a debut to remember, Sue Leonard selects her books of the year

Above from left: The future looks bright for Roisin Maguire after her brilliant debut offering, ‘Night Swimmers’; Neil Jordan’s unique story is one that you can’t afford to miss, and Alan Hollinghurst reaches a new peak with 'Our Evenings'. 

Our Evenings by Alan Hollinghurst (Picador, €16.99/ Kindle, €10.03)

Choosing best of the books of the year is, sometimes, a tricky endeavour. When, as in 2024, many of Ireland’s most prominent writers have produced a new novel, one can be confused by the sheer high quality on offer. However, this year, I’ve gone for an English writer.

In middle age, Dave Win is writing his memoirs. Life hasn’t been easy; gay, and half Burmese, (though he’s never met his father), Dave has lived through decriminalisation, putting up with casual racism as well as homophobia.

The memoir starts when Dave, who has gained a scholarship to a public school in Berkshire, is a weekend guest of his benefactors, Mark and Cara Hadlow, a couple with liberal artistic values. But their son, Giles, his contemporary at Bampton, has spent the weekend tormenting him.

At school — where Dave embraces all the culture, acting, and music on offer while Giles perfects his bullying tactics, they have several memorable encounters. 

Then it’s off to Oxford where, coming out with unease, Dave remarks that his life, to date, has been a chaos of privilege and prejudice.

In the passing years, as Dave pursues his solid acting career, his old adversary, at odds with his parents, is making his name as a euro-sceptic member of the Conservative Party.

The scenes at the theatre are especially enlightening, as Dave learns what it takes to become proficient. His being different adds another dimension. 

He doesn’t play a Burmese man until his 60s and is always being mistaken for ‘some other brown person’. 

The text becomes episodic as the men age — skimming over those years when Giles helps to get the Brexit vote over the line, and finally, when the pandemic takes hold. But it’s the early years and the development of the men’s characters that hold sway.

A doorstopper at almost 500 pages, this is a novel to read slowly and to savour. Hollinghurst’s writing and characterisation are simply sublime — but it’s his insights and empathy that make this novel so special.

I’ve always loved his writing. He is, to my mind, the best ever chronicler of England’s home counties; skilled at describing the class system, the political arena, and those nuances of snobbery. 

But this latest book supersedes anything he has written before. At age 70, he has produced a masterpiece. Not only is it my book of the year — it’s my book of the decade.

Amnesiac: A Memoir by Neil Jordan (Head of Zeus, €19.99/ Kindle, €7.05)

I’m not a great fan of the celebrity memoir in general. I find the usual name dropping and self-aggrandisement can make for a tiresome read, but Neil Jordan is not a typical celebrity, and when he was asked to pen his story, he was much more interested in examining his life in order to gain insights into why it has taken the course it has. 

In doing this, he also ponders on the theme of memory, admitting he has difficulty disentangling the events he remembers, with those he has been told about, or seen in photographs.

It’s been an eventful life. Son of a school inspector and an artist, he was a bad student. 

He writes of a rackety childhood on the edge of an aristocratic estate in north Dublin which was rife with feral gangs; and later, of being homeless in London, where he was sold for sex by a pair of hippies. 

Back in Ireland, trying to be a teacher, he found himself unemployable.

But from the start his artistic side shone through. He was such a fine classical guitarist as a teenager, that he was accepted at the Julian Bream School in London, and he played in several bands. 

And though he hated English at University College Dublin for its analytical approach, it was here that he met Jim Sheridan and, with him, staged unforgettable productions.

He does, of course, write about his films — and of his encounters with a host of the famous and infamous, but always in an engaging way. 

And he concentrates on the brilliance of others, writing of Cillian Murphy’s outstanding performance in Breakfast on Pluto, and of his friendship with the late Sinead O’Connor, whose contributions to Michael Collins, and as the Virgin Mary in The Butcher Boy made such an impact.

Jordan has also published 10 highly acclaimed literary novels. His first book, a short story collection titled Nights in Tunisia gained him the prestigious Rooney Prize. 

He could easily have become a full-time novelist, but, thankfully for the world of Irish film, that didn’t suit his overactive brain.

In spite of its fascinating content, it’s the artistry of Jordan’s writing that lifts this memoir to such heights. Film buffs will love it. 

Yet it’s a rewarding read for anyone who appreciates literature, and from someone with a fascinating mind, and an unusual way of viewing the world.

Night Swimmers by Roisin Maguire (Serpents Tail, €21.00/ Kindle, €8.03)

Night Swimmers opens when Grace, taking her daily swim, notices a group of shrieking women who are dipping their toes into the sea. 

Furious that her peace has been invaded, she waits, treading water, as they submerge and start a stately breaststroke. 

Finally, she swims to shore, and strides up the beach, shocking them with her nudity as she disowns the shaggy dog whose barking so terrified the women. 

At once we have a clear sense of the middle-aged semi-recluse who lives on the northern Irish coast, and fills her days fishing, quilting, and baiting the tourists.

When Evan arrives there, fleeing his marriage and trying to process his grief after his baby daughter’s death, lockdown arrives, trapping him there. 

He encounters Grace when she saves him from an accident at sea — but the question remains, did he want to be saved? 

The two strike up an uneasy friendship, and become closer, when Evan is joined by his broken young son. The three are drawn together in an unexpected way.

All this is watched by the various inhabitants of the village, who accept the father and son and watch out for them, treating them as a part of their community. 

And when tragedy threatens to strike, they’re all there, pulling together, showing kindness and compassion.

I simply adored this redemptive novel which focuses on parenthood, grief, friendship and love. 

I adored the coastal setting; the concern and care of the community; the humour, and most of all the irreverent tone. 

But it’s the complexity of the characters that made it so very special. From the irascible Grace and troubled Evan to the more minor characters — all are drawn with the utmost empathy and understanding. 

Above all it’s a joyous read, full of heart from an author who clearly understands the spirit of the community she is writing about.

This has been one of the strongest years for Irish debuts; Alan Murrin’s The Coast Road, and Niamh Mulvey’s The Amendments shone out amongst many others. 

But this gloriously evocative novel puts even those in the shade. I can’t imagine why it hasn’t garnered more attention. 

It’s every bit as good as How to Build a Boat, Elaine Feeney’s novel of 2023, and it has similar themes and characterisation; and that book gained Feeney a Booker longlisting. 

Roisin Maguire is a name to watch. I can’t wait for what she comes up with next.