THE HEART IN WINTER

Would-be outlaws, tough dames, large gunmen, and lousy lovers commingle in this heady yarn.

The restless Barry mind has carried readers from a hellscape of Celtic gangbangers (City of Bohane, 2012) to John Lennon visiting an island he owned (Beatlebone, 2015) to most recently a pair of bantering ex-drug dealers in a Spanish ferry terminal (Night Boat to Tangier, 2019). Here he’s gone West, to Butte, Montana, in 1891. Tom Rourke has been drifting between bars and brothels and opium dens and dreaming of “being the outlaw type” when he falls hard for Polly Gillespie. She’s just arrived from the East and is newly married to gruff mining boss Anthony Harrington, who preps for his wedding night with self-flagellation and crazy prayer. She and Tom soon light out for San Francisco after stealing cash and a horse and plotting a vague route to the train station in Pocatello, Idaho. Not far behind them are Harrington’s hired pursuers, led by a Cornish gunman seven feet tall and half as wide. At bottom, the novel offers fairly standard fare for a Wild West tale, but the Irish writer’s humor and prose magic give the genre’s conventions a refreshing spin. He recalls Flann O’Brien’s mock-heroic flair in At Swim-Two-Birds and the phrase-weaving and less extreme moments of weirdness in William Kotzwinkle’s The Fan Man and Barry Hannah’s The Tennis Handsome. A dissipated photographer has “the look about him now of dying poultry.” For a man with a hangover, his “noggin end was a tower of screeching bats” and “his stomach was a failing metropolis.” A stranger met on the road “wore a heap of weather and a troutbrown corduroy longcoat.”

Barry’s fans will be delighted and many a newbie beguiled.