So I finally managed to finish The Heart’s Invisible Furies after months of struggle. I loved the first couple of chapters but gradually lost patience with the story-line. This is my attempt to explain why.
This is an ambitious book that follows the life of a gay man from conception to terminal illness in old age. It is by turns brilliantly funny, tragic, annoying and overly sentimental. It tells the story of Cyril Avery against a background of a bigoted hypocritical Ireland dominated by the Catholic Church; a liberated Amsterdam with a sleazy underbelly; and a New York fearful of the 1980’s AIDS epidemic. It ends full circle in a modern Ireland somewhat less bigoted than half a century earlier.
The first few chapters describe how Cyril was conceived and given up for adoption by a teenage single mum who was ostracised by her family and community. For me this was the best part of the book. Despite the tragic storyline the text is littered with brilliantly funny dialogue and great characters in an Ireland seemingly run by lecherous Catholic Priests. Cyril’s birth during a violent assault in which a man murders his gay son is quite terrifying.
Cyril’s early life with his eccentric adoptive parentis also endearingly told as is his crush on, and adventures with, the dazzling Julian Woodbead. But somewhere around here I began to fret over the profusion of outlandish characters, the reliance on coincidence as a plot shaping device and the number of impossibly handsome men in Ireland. The frequent appearances of real historical politicians and writers is also somewhat double-edged. Many younger readers will probably have little recollection often such major figures such as Charles Haughey or Brendan Behan far less the more obscure figures who make an occasional appearance.
The core of the book revolves around Cyril’s attempts to find some sort of fulfilment as a gay man in a country where homosexuality is illegal. The convoluted attempts to connect with other gay men and the sometimes rather sordid nature of his ‘relationships’ convey convincingly the desolation and desperation of Cyril’s struggle to find sexual and emotional release.Ultimately Cyril moves to Amsterdam and meets Bastien. His quest for a meaningful relationship ends triumphantly…until another shocking hate-crime ends Bastien’s life.
If the story had ended hereabouts it would have been a heart-felt portrayal of a young gay man’s search for acceptance in a bigoted and hostile world. But there is still an awful long way to go. I for one found the story after Bastien’s murder in Central Park increasingly implausible. Several episodes just did not ring true or seemed completely superfluous to the story. A couple of examples: Cyril, in his pre-Amsterdam days, unable to admit his homosexuality to Julian’s sister Alice, succumbs to her advances and marries her only to run away as soon as the vows are exchanged. As this was the second time that Alice was dumped at the altar it is not hard to imagine the damage to her self-esteem – and her attitude to Cyril. And yet, when they meet again years later the tone quickly becomes one of offended jocularity which simply fails to convey the emotional chasm that should separate them. Or, there is the chapter where Cyril reluctantly goes on a date with a young, thrusting (and married) Irish MP. Other than to make a trite point about the venality of politicians of every era the point of this chapter entirely eluded me.
I won’t say anything about the ending other than I found it somewhat bizarre. So – my overall impression is of a book full of great ideas but where the whole was less than the sum of its parts. Perhaps overambitious is the word. In short a very good book let down by too many peripheral episodes.
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