Kevin Barry’s most recent work of fiction, “The Heart in Winter”, unfolds in the west of the USA towards the close of the 19th century. The narrative takes the reader from Butte, Montana, to San Francisco, California, on a seismic journey traversing linguistics and sentiments.
Much like his previous literature, Barry centres “The Heart in Winter” around situational drama, sketching a passionate liaison between Tom Rourke – a misfit and minstrel, and Polly Gillespie – a resilient character running from an unrevealed past in the east. Barry skilfully executes casual dialogue and unconventional concepts, which drive his individuals across the evolving territories of the American west – a land teeming with the dispossessed and dreamers, not dissimilar to the west of Ireland depicted in his earlier writings.
The analogous traits of these two locations have been a recurring theme since Barry’s debut novel, “City of Bohane”. Much like his current book, the first instalment was a dramatic account of affection, destiny, and aggression, elements “The Heart in Winter” dismantles and restructures into a condensed saga of flight and survival. Through this, Barry has produced an exuberant spectacle of vaudeville – colourfully garish, ragged, and indomitable.
The foundation of Butte was laid on the money made from the local copper mines, which attracted a significant number of Irish settlers to the Rocky Mountains – this was largely due to Marcus Daly’s efforts, a native of Cavan and lord of the Anaconda mine. Aptly, Barry’s narrative brims with the boisterous vivacity of a frontier village constructed hastily from the earth with whatever is available. His rendition of Butte is a nocturnal town characterised by quickly spent fortunes, illiteracy, and the strain of cultural ties that bind communities in diaspora.
Despite his bold facade, Barry has always been preoccupied with matters of intimacy among his characters. In Beatlebone, he pushes the boundaries by allowing the readers to delve into his personal memories. He brings John Lennon’s wild persona to life during his initial transatlantic prose journey to Lennon’s New York. The Heart in Winter features Tom Rourke, who appears before his time in a cloud of opium-induced confusion in Butte. He is a different kind of artist, tasked with composing letters from miners to Irish immigrants on the east coast, offering marital promises. The clumsiness of these correspondences is carefully highlighted by Barry, illustrating the challenge of introspection and the ability to paint a picture of one’s findings, a common hurdle for the miner and the novelist.
Barry’s characters consistently deliver the most extraordinary profanities in contemporary Irish literature, where curse words flow like melodies, echoing the riotous scenes of bar fights. His narrative tone fluctuates between humour and horror, and only falters when the narrator’s perspective becomes too intrusive especially in relation to female characters. Rourke’s unofficial vocation is being an assistant to a photographer, where he encounters Polly, who comes to town with the intention to wed Anthony Harrington, a mine supervisor. This sets off their hectic westward journey from Butte, surrounded by peril.
Barry possesses a unique knack for portraying severe weather conditions, and effectively captures the frosty ambience of the mountain country as his stubborn lovers attempt to escape their destiny. There are instances of tranquillity that lend a soft touch to the narrative that otherwise focuses on acts of compassion from strangers towards the reckless. The narrative excels when it emulates the pace of a Coen brothers film; it weakens with traces of Tarantino, occasionally exaggerated in terms of language and scene setting. Nonetheless, in current Irish literature, no other characters captivate with their colourful language like Barry’s, their expletives gracefully contributing to the chaos of barroom brawls.
“The Heart in Winter, an American novel with an Irish perspective, examines the intricate cultural tapestry of America. The narrative is overseen by the silently observing Nez Percé while simultaneously capturing the bewilderment of new arrivals, disoriented settlers of a sort. The jagged, forceful history of American westward development does not predominantely tie into a modern understanding of Irish America within the book. Instead, The Heart in Winter acts as an expansion of Barry’s previous ventures into the wild western frontier, a journey which has seen him traverse places from Cork to Limerick, Westport, and even across seas.
Tom Rourke is also a companion of Beatlebone’s Cornelius O’Grady, a man prone to spontaneous outbursts and foresight. Polly Gillespie, however, stands out due to her reserved nature, a divergence from many of Barry’s creations. Her subdued quiet is the steady heart of the novel and is a testament to what Barry’s intense writing can obscure – his narratives’ emotional spectrum and his appreciation for tranquility amongst turmoil. Despite its heightened emotional peaks, The Heart in Winter maintains a consistent rhythm indicative of an emergent writing style, regardless of how harsh the circumstances may get.”