Who owns your legacy after death? What pieces of your self go on preserved, retold, spun out and expanded on - what truths become half-truths, twisted memories and proselytizations? What tragedy is it, that in death, you take with you all that was of your future, and leave behind only a misty remnant of your past.
Ordinary Saints is a meditation on these very heavy concepts, told in a black humoured and often soap-operatic kind of way. Unfortunately, while the premise of the book seemed very interesting... the execution left little impression on me. I believe this might be a matter more of taste than of authorial skill (this was a highly praised book at my bookclub and from the discussions I came to understand why - even if it could not retrospectively hit me emotionally - I definitely appreciate it more on a technical level.)
This is a book about miscommunication and conflict that goes buried rather than spoken. Characters have outbursts of emotion that they use as reason to simply exit conversations or relationships altogether. Growth happens rapidly and suddenly, and tidy easy resolutions are not something we are served up on a silver platter. In this way, there are elements that feel startlingly real despite the somewhat outlandish premise. Much can be understood by what ISN'T said, in a way that reflects the secretive and stifling power of the church and its keenness to suppress elements of the self.
Nevertheless, I wish certain characters and relationships had been more fully developed. I was left somewhat baffled by the time-skip ending, the sudden shifting focus towards Jay's mother that felt as though it was an emotional note that should have driven home that so much of the book really was about their relationship. I'm not sure why, but I just never fully resonated or connected with Jay's emotional state (despite my own connections with - albeit not religious trauma - but difficulties with my parents of a certain generation and outlook that result in few feelings shared and a sense of more obligation and performance.)
Jay's sometimes dissociated and conflict-averse / conflict-driving oscillating narrative was very appropriate for the thematic underpinnings of the novel, but I nevertheless wish we'd had more direct conflicts towards the climax of the book. Not necessarily looking for Hallmark-grade payoffs, but I felt like this was building and building towards something that paid off somewhat off-screen. Again, on a technical, thematic level - this makes sense. We only receive pieces of Ferdia, slices of who he was at one time to one person or another, incapable of growth except in shifting memories. Jay, and her mother's, changes follow through in this sense. But, in terms of the reading experience, I was really quite bored much of the time and feeling myself compelled to skip through pages (which is a somewhat rare feeling for me.)
So, sadly, I'm giving this three stars with the acknowledgement that I might come back and revist this sometime and may connect with it on an entirely different emotional level.