Ordinary Saints
by Niamh Ní Mhaoileoin
Jacinta, named after one of the visionaries at Fatima, was brought up in a devout Catholic family in Ireland. She now calls herself Jay and lives in London with her girlfriend Lindsay, away from the oppressive presence of her parents. She is however, still haunted by a tragic event from her past. When she was a teenager, just tasting her first kiss from another girl during a party, her brother Ferdia, a young priest, died in a freak accident in Rome. Always the darling of her parents, he was also very close to Jay, and he remains a central and conflicting figure for her – on the one hand, he is a brother she loved and looked up to; on the other hand, he became a representative of a Church which she has abandoned in protest at its scandals and conservative outlook. Ferdia, therefore, is a subject Jay avoids broaching, even with her closest circle of friends (Lindsay included).
This, however, changes at the very start of the
book, when Jay learns that Ferdia is being favourably considered for sainthood,
with the Vatican looking into his life and writings for evidence of his “heroic
virtues”. This prompts Lindsay to face her painful, long-avoided memories and,
perhaps, to chart a course for her future.
This original and engaging debut novel, winner of the inaugural PFD Queer Fiction Prize 2022 and shortlisted for the Women's Prize Trust/Curtis Brown Discoveries Prize 2022, is based on a premise which may appear far-fetched but is well within the realms of possibility (as Jay repeatedly points out, “the last three popes have created more saints between them than all the others combined”, and some of these saints - or saints-to-be, such as Carlo Acutis and Chiara Badano - lived recently enough to be well remembered by people who actually knew them or, as in Jay’s case, grew up with them).
Niamh Ní Mhaoileoin has a deft touch, and under the guise of an often humorous narration, she touches upon deep subjects: families, relationships, public v private memory, faith and religion. In Jay she has created a believable, down-to-earth and likeable character. She describes with poignancy a challenging situation where one’s life journey leads you away from a religion which, all things considered forms part of your upbringing. In Jay’s case, the scandals of the Church and attitude to same-sex relationships make her renounce the faith of her childhood and, because they are so intertwined, also lead her to abandon her country and family. Yet, hers is no easy decision, and the book’s conclusion, although hopeful, provides no facile answers.
I must confess that, being a practising Catholic myself, and of a frankly more conservative brand than the “progressive Catholic voices” Niamh Ní Mhaoileoin thanks in her acknowledgements section, I approached this book with much curiosity and some trepidation. Would this novel simply be a scathing send-down of the saint-making process? An anti-religious diatribe? Ordinary Saints is certainly critical of the Church and its priests, but it adopts a balanced, nuanced approach, with some thought-provoking questions about religion and faith which are as important to those who, like Jay, decide to leave the Church as to those who choose to remain. While I am always wary of identifying a novel’s narrators with their author/creator, I feel that the novel exudes a strong sense of authenticity and honesty borne of experience.
Ordinary Saints is all this, but can
also be approached as a bittersweet, coming-of-age, coming-out novel. A great
debut.
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