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A review by tommyhousworth
Beatlebone by Kevin Barry
3.0
John Lennon bought an island off the coast of Western Ireland but never spent much time there. This fictionalized account of Lennon, circa 1978, sets the legendary artist in restless motion toward his island for "3 days of solitude" to get his head together, get away from the Dakota & the press, and find some peace. Cornelius O'Grady, his appointed driver, helps Lennon dodge the press, maintain a level of anonymity, and passes along a healthy dose of cosmic Irish Zen wisdom along the way.
Along the way, there are encounters with a number of colorful characters, but it's John's reliance on the guidance (both literal and emotional/spiritual) of Cornelius that anchors this book.
Kevin Barry has a keen ear for language, both the rhythms of his native Irish characters and the turn of a phrase so that it lands with a stark, visual, always honest punch. In some ways, he reminds me of a cross between Tom Robbins (in spirit) and Cormac McCarthy (the terseness of some of his better sentences). More than anything, I am reminded of a more whimsical version of "Coming into Slaugther", the Michael Odjante's book about pioneer jazzman Buddy Bolden.
It's a challenging book to follow in terms of shifting narrative, the lack of quotation marks, and a bit of a jarring third act which shifts to the author's account of his research for the book before taking us back into the final days of Lennon's adventure. Does it help to be a Beatles fan? Yes. Do you need to be? Possibly, but if you aren't, really, what are you fishing around this book title for, anyway? Some readers might get frustrated and give up. It's not your typical narrative approach, but I found it to be inventive much of the time.
It's a fun and revealing ride, stronger at the start than at the end for me, but worth getting inside John's presumptive head for a few days. I'll likely seek out more from Barry.
Along the way, there are encounters with a number of colorful characters, but it's John's reliance on the guidance (both literal and emotional/spiritual) of Cornelius that anchors this book.
Kevin Barry has a keen ear for language, both the rhythms of his native Irish characters and the turn of a phrase so that it lands with a stark, visual, always honest punch. In some ways, he reminds me of a cross between Tom Robbins (in spirit) and Cormac McCarthy (the terseness of some of his better sentences). More than anything, I am reminded of a more whimsical version of "Coming into Slaugther", the Michael Odjante's book about pioneer jazzman Buddy Bolden.
It's a challenging book to follow in terms of shifting narrative, the lack of quotation marks, and a bit of a jarring third act which shifts to the author's account of his research for the book before taking us back into the final days of Lennon's adventure. Does it help to be a Beatles fan? Yes. Do you need to be? Possibly, but if you aren't, really, what are you fishing around this book title for, anyway? Some readers might get frustrated and give up. It's not your typical narrative approach, but I found it to be inventive much of the time.
It's a fun and revealing ride, stronger at the start than at the end for me, but worth getting inside John's presumptive head for a few days. I'll likely seek out more from Barry.