SAINT OF THE NARROWS STREET

Smacking her abusive, low-life husband in the head with a cast-iron pan, a young Brooklyn mom sets off a chain of events that threatens her and her family, including her young son.

Risa Taverna is the essence of well-behaved (“she’s lived all tightened up”). But when her drunk husband, Sav, points a gun at her; her 8-month-old son, Fab; and her close sister, Giulia, she takes action. Tragically, Sav hits his head on a table on the way down and dies. With the help of Fab’s “Uncle Chooch,” who has long pined after Risa, the desperate sisters bury the body in upstate New York and tell everyone in their Italian neighborhood of Gravesend that Sav ran off to parts unknown. Everyone except Fab, who barely speaks, manages to lead a normal-ish life until years later when Sav’s wretched older brother, Roberto, shows up questioning Risa’s story (he will regret doing so). Years later, Father Tim, a young priest with money problems, tries to extort money from Risa to keep him from spreading rumors about Sav that he heard in a bar. And in the final section of this flowing epic, Fab, now an angry, delinquent teenager with gambling debts, goes off in search of the father he barely knew but is fast turning into. An established noir master, Boyle outdoes himself in crafting a novel of deep dimensions marked by intergenerational trauma, family strife, and failed religion (“the cardboard taste of a million communion wafers remained in his mouth”). It’s a page-turning performance with unforgettable scenes, including a nearly unbearable one in which Risa can’t help serving the blackmailing priest warmed up lasagna even as he’s threatening her. The names of the characters, including Jane the Stain, All Bad Allie, and Cyclone Archie, are worth the price of admission.

A great, gravely unsettling novel that welcomes repeated readings.