Brian Moore (1) (1921–1999)

On one hand you could say this book is dated, but on the other hand I reckon it was well ahead of its time. On one level it's a story about a married woman who has an affair and begins a journey to find herself, but on another level it's a much deeper exploration of the relationships between men and women and the extent to and means by which men hold power in a society where violence is the ultimate act of enforcement. As I write this I hear of yet another Australian case of a husband show more killing his wife. Clearly Brian Moore's message is just as relevant today as it was in the 1970s, much to our shame. He does offer some hope for change, but rightly doesn't suggest that men are going to initiate any revolution which undermines their own dominant position. I think this is one case where the Booker committee did well in shortlisting this work show less

Brian Moore's novel The Great Victorian Collection tells the wonderfully bizarre story of Anthony Maloney, a 29-year-old assistant professor of history at Canada's McGill University in Montreal, and an expert in Victoriana. One morning, while on a trip to San Francisco to attend a seminar at Berkeley, Maloney wakes up to find that a dream he's had has come true: Outside his hotel window a vast, magnificent collection of exquisite and rare Victorian objects has magically appeared in the hotel show more parking lot.

From that moment, Maloney's life is completely taken over by the care and maintenance of the collection. The mass of objects is so large it can't be moved, so the hotel management has to be placated. Security has to be seen to. The press and TV journalists are soon clamoring for interviews. Maloney acquires an agent and an assistant (and promptly falls in love with his assistant's young girl friend). Debates develop between rival academic camps – some claim the collection is the real thing, others believe the objects to be very skillful fakes; although no one seems able to explain how Maloney might have pulled off such a "hoax." And Maloney finds, somewhat to his dismay, that when he goes to sleep at night, he can only dream about the collection – he conjured it up, and he's destined to guard it – even in his dreams.

Throughout the book, Maloney himself struggles with the problem of just how real or unreal the collection might be. Was it actually created by his dream? Or is there some other mystery involved? And if it is just a manifestation of his imaginings, what exactly is allowing it to exist in the real world? Is it here to stay, or likely to disappear just as suddenly as it came into being? At one point, Maloney experiments with trying to remove an object – an antique toy train engine – from the collection only to find the engine seriously altered when he inspects it afterward.

In the end, the collection causes Maloney nothing but grief, and his attempts to maintain it in its pristine condition fail miserably. But that's all I'll say about the ending because there are twists and surprises I don't really want to reveal (including a strange subplot involving Mary Ann, the young companion of Maloney's assistant, and a road trip to Los Angeles).

This stunningly inventive, and deliciously weird novel won both the James Tait Black Memorial Prize and the Canadian Governor General's Award for Fiction in 1975, but seems to be out of print now. And that's too bad. It really deserves to be rediscovered. show less

I loved this sad book about a 40 something spinster in 1950s Ireland trying desperately to find a place in the world. Judith Hearne was tied to an ill, controlling aunt through her 20s and missed her chance at marriage. Her lack of money and plain looks don't help either. What begins as a Barbara Pym-type story about a nice, lonely, poor, Catholic woman deteriorates to more desperate events as the reader learns more about what all this loneliness has led Judy to.

The author doesn't sugar show more coat anything and leaves the ending as it realistically would be. I thought this was a brilliant look at the limited options for a middle aged woman without family or funds in this time period. Despite the sadness, I loved this book and rooted for Judy Hearne with all of her faults.

A great find and highly recommended.

Original publication date: 1955
Author’s nationality: British/Northern Ireland (another one of these, correct me if I'm wrong!!)
Original language: English
Length: 223 pages
Rating: 5 stars
Format/where I acquired the book: purchased nyrb
Why I read this: bought for a litsy group read ages ago and finally getting to it show less

The kind of quietly devastating book that you finish and then need to just sit and stare at a blank wall for a moment while saying "oof" softly to yourself. Brian Moore's portrait of the chronically lonely Judith Hearne, a 40-something spinster clinging desperately to her fading gentility in 1950s Belfast is a well-observed one: a bleak look at woman imprisoning herself in a grisaille world.