Brooklyn by Colm Tóibín

It is Ireland in the 1950s and for Eilis Lacey, as for so many young Irish girls, opportunities are scarce. So when her sister arranges for her to emigrate to New York, Eilis knows she must go, leaving behind her family and home for the first time.

Arriving in a crowded lodging house in Brooklyn, Eilis can only be reminded of what she has sacrificed. She is far from home – and homesick. Then, just as she takes tentative steps towards friendship, and perhaps something more, Eilis receives news which sends her back to Ireland. There she will be confronted by a terrible dilemma – a devastating choice between duty and one great love.

Brooklyn is a story of promise, hope and difficult decisions. In Eilis’ character, Tóibín captures the tension experienced by many emigrants to the USA – of leaving behind what she knows and reaching for the promise of something better. Eilis cannot identify that ‘something’ – it is unclear and intangible, and entirely out of her comfort zone – but somehow she knows it is a golden opportunity to find an improvement on what she is leaving behind in Ireland.

Eilis is full of self-doubt; she is young and still finding her feet in life. She’s introverted, she second guesses everything from major life decisions to everyday social interactions and she regularly worries that she has offended someone. She struggles with these habits, ruminating and worrying, but is not necessarily self-aware enough to combat her lack of confidence. I was impressed by how well Tóibín captures the competing pressures within a young woman’s mind whilst still creating an endearing protagonist.

However, Eilis’ indecisiveness and lack of confidence means she is easily swayed in different directions. When she has to return to Ireland, she is susceptible to feelings of guilt about wanting to return to the USA at first, and (without revealing spoilers) she allows herself to be led into a situation which escalates quickly and which, due to her self-consciousness and lack of self-confidence, she struggles to be honest enough to extract herself.

Brooklyn is a fairly short book at around 250 pages but the writing is measured and detailed, and the plot moves relatively slowly until the dilemma arises. In my view, this dilemma appears too late in the book. The measured pace is disrupted and the last quarter of the book felt rushed and unfinished, lacking sufficient time and detail to explore how Eilis eventually makes her decision. I am not averse to books having slightly open endings, as it can feel clichéd if everything is wrapped up neatly, but I thought Brooklyn left rather too many threads loose, and this felt like a bit of a cop out.

Overall I did enjoy Brooklyn, largely because of Tóibín’s apt portrayal of the mix of nerves and excitement at leaving behind the familiar and taking a risk in the hope of experiencing something better.