The first thought I have, after finishing this book, is "I hope we don't have boys." I don't have children yet and maybe it is a boy/girl thing but the world of little 10-year-old Paddy Clark was slightly horrifying to me.
Paddy is a key member of a group of young boys growning up in the suburbs of Dublin in the late 1960's. The story takes place generally at the time Paddy is making the change from a carefree boy to a more knowledgeable and troubled adolescent. Paddy narrates a stream of conscious child's patter of the random facts, tribalism, adventure and meaningless violence of life in his little gang of hooligans. He also slowly awakens to the reality of his parents' troubled relationship, as he tries to single-handedly hold their marriage together and protect his younger brother from the emotional harm it could wreak.
I found the bits about Paddy's relationship with his parents' troubles to be touching and very well done. My heart ached for Paddy as he suffered. The rest of it, however, was a scattered story of the tiny violences of boyhood: the "dead leg" given as a joke, seriously physical abuse inflicted on a little brother simply for being weaker, beatings of friends as part of secret rituals, and perils of dares and reckless curiosity. While it painted a vivid picture, this would have been better as a short story. I grew quickly weary of the pointless pain and suffering the little boys inflicted on each other out of boredom, and greatly wished for a deeper meaning. I also have to admit that I was annoyed by the lack of development of the female characters - Paddy's mother and sisters and the mothers of his friends. I get that that the female characters weren't exactly the point, but it would have helped me identify with something in the story.
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