The Storyteller of Inis Mór. - Could a Legend Save a Life?
When 38-Year-old Conner O’Rourke arrives in Ireland after an absence of thirty years, his life is in bits. His marriage is falling apart, his advertising agency in Australia is bankrupt, and he’s hearing poetic voices in his mind urging him to return to his childhood home, the island of Inis Mór. His grandmother has contacted him, saying that she is dying and must speak with him, but when he arrives on Inis Mór, a hauntingly lonely, starkly beautiful island in Galway Bay, she has already passed, leaving him a cottage and a dilapidated old sailing boat. A mysterious stranger appears, offering to help rebuild the boat and, as they work together, the old man tells Conner stories of Ireland. Stories of courage, purpose, and passion. Stories that could redeem Conner’s life, if only he can muster the courage to follow his heart.
‘Liam O’Neill’s new book: The Storyteller of Inis Mór, reminds one of the great Irish authors such as Sean O’Faolain and Benedict Kiely.’ - Frank O’Shea - Literary critic - The Irish Echo.
The Storyteller of Inis Mór. - Could a Legend Save a Life?
When 38-Year-old Conner O’Rourke arrives in Ireland after an absence of thirty years, his life is in bits. His marriage is falling apart, his advertising agency in Australia is bankrupt, and he’s hearing poetic voices in his mind urging him to return to his childhood home, the island of Inis Mór. His grandmother has contacted him, saying that she is dying and must speak with him, but when he arrives on Inis Mór, a hauntingly lonely, starkly beautiful island in Galway Bay, she has already passed, leaving him a cottage and a dilapidated old sailing boat. A mysterious stranger appears, offering to help rebuild the boat and, as they work together, the old man tells Conner stories of Ireland. Stories of courage, purpose, and passion. Stories that could redeem Conner’s life, if only he can muster the courage to follow his heart.
‘Liam O’Neill’s new book: The Storyteller of Inis Mór, reminds one of the great Irish authors such as Sean O’Faolain and Benedict Kiely.’ - Frank O’Shea - Literary critic - The Irish Echo.
The Storyteller of Inis Mór
Prologue
Ireland - 2017.
The old man was staring across at me, his eyes glittering in the firelight.
“So, you’re thirty-eight years of age and your life is in tatters.” He smiled. “You’re a fortunate man.”
“Fortunate? I lose everything I own, and you consider that fortunate? This is a catastrophe for Christ’s sake!”
“Settle down now, boy, settle down.” He leaned forward and placed another log on the fire, “Take a good look at yourself. You were sick of the job, it was meaningless, you said as much yourself. What have you lost? The marriage? It was no use to either of you the way it was. Sure, you were driving the poor woman mad with your advertising nonsense. The house in Australia? It wasn’t even yours. The Mercedes? No, that was just an arrogance on wheels.”
Maybe he’s mad, I thought, Maybe that’s why he’s always alone.
“What you lost was an illusion, boy, the illusion of being a big shot.”
“You’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” My heart was beginning to race. “I worked bloody hard in that business.”
But he continued on as if I hadn’t spoken.
“Your life fell apart through lack of meaning. What value was your work? To anyone but yourself, that is. And your marriage is in tatters because you put your career ahead of your family.” He pointed the stem of his pipe at me, “But listen to me now, and listen well. With all your problems and all your woes, what you are now calling a catastrophe would be better understood as a calling.” He stared across, his dark green eyes clear and bright. “Do you understand that?”
“No, I don’t!” I grabbed the poker and began stabbing at the logs, sparks flying up the ancient, soot caked chimney. What are saying? You think I’m working in the wrong career, is that it?”
“That’s not for me to say.” He took a sip of tea before going on. “But now you’ll be forced to take a good look at yourself. That’s why I say you’re fortunate. Most of your kind stagger on for years in jobs they hate, ignoring their wives and families, trading their souls for an illusory sense of security while sinking deeper into mediocrity each year.”
I tossed the poker back on the hearth.
“That might be fine for you, but some of us have to live in the real world too you know.”
But he just shook his head and continued.
“Others become addicted to the almighty dollar. Trapped in the delusion that the fancy cars and inflated expense accounts will bring them lasting happiness whilst they avoid doing anything of value in the world.” He raised his eyes to meet mine, and I was struck by the fearlessness of his gaze. “Self-centred fools preying on a crippled planet.”
“What did you mean by a Calling?” I said.
“Your Calling, boy. Your purpose in life. Your gift. Call it what you will.”
“Who are you?” I said, “You’re not from the island, are you?”
But again, he just ignored me, staring into the flames as if lost in a dream…
My goal for the year was to read more Irish literature, so when I saw this book, I jumped at the opportunity to review it. Connor, although that name has long been abandoned in favour of John, has lost it all. His wife and son are on their way to France without him, his business is failing, his car and house are being repossessed and the big shot life of an Australian mogul is no more. John has to face the facts, he's desolate. When he gets a letter from his grandmother begging his return to Ireland, and to her tiny Aran island of Inis Mor, he's sceptical. But needing a break from endless financial phone calls and drawn by the voices in his head and a mystery of his grandmother's final message that she has something to tell him, he goes. When he arrives too late, he finds himself being the sole proprietor of her Will, the owner of a small centuries-old cottage, five acres of land and a run down boat his grandfather built. Hoping to sell and get back to Australia as soon as possible, he finds himself stuck, bonded by legalities of the Will meaning he can't sell for two years but maybe this wasn't the set back he thought. Finding the inhabitants friendly, he begins to learn more about his father who had died when he was a kid, he meets a mysterious old man with stories to tell and no name to speak of, and maybe, just maybe this will be the making of Connor O'Rourke.
If you ever read the books by Helen Dunmore, Ingo, growing up, I think you'd love this book as an adult equivalent. Seeped in Irish history and lore, this book draws on stories of lost captains, sailors who never returned, myths on selkies and tales of old Irish warriors. This book had a fantastical romanticism about it. Being from Northern Ireland, I often miss the rose-tinted view of the Irish islands as we don't really have any to speak of, but this book made me want to go to the Aran Islands immediately. O'Neill has a fluid style of writing, the poems are haunting, the stories heartwrenching. It really was book that could just be devoured in one sitting. I found that I could almost imagine the stone walls, ancient sites and the breezy cliffs of Inis Mor as I read this book and I was captivated. This book also reads as if it was written by someone who had lived in Ireland all their days which impressed me when finding out O'Neill was raised in England by Irish parents before later emigrating to Australia, similar to Connor.
I would recommend this book to those looking for a breathtaking and almost magical book to read. This really inspired me to look further into Irish lore and legends.