Sunday, November 13, 2016

Irish Author Paul Murray's "Skippy DIes" A Cerebral, Poetic Coming of Age Novel

Paul Muray (b Ireland 1975) is a very enchanting & clever storyteller.  His 1st novel "An Evening of Young Good Byes" (03) was shortlisted for the Whitbread Award.  "Skippy Dies" (10) was long listed  for the Booker Prize.  In Murray's engaging & beguiling novel "Skippy Dies" we learn Skippy, a teen at Seabrook School for boys, dies at the onset and thrust into a mindset of flashback storytelling leading to this cataclysmic tragedy.  This proves false. Forging this coming of age novel into a finite genre is futile.  Skippy is likable kid with an geeky, genius roommate.  Skippy is love struck by beautiful Lori, out of his league at the nearby girl's school.  Skippy is NOT the sole main character of this craftily constructed story.  Skippy's dismal life & sexual awakening parallel that of Howard, a former alum & Seabrook teacher.  The cast of classmates are all colorful as well as a slew of parents, teachers & priests all contending with their own worldly matters.  Coping skills vary among the crew along with numerous complications ailing across generational divides: self-confidence, peer pressure, abuse, drugs, over-eating, dyslexia and the ubiquitous quest to find love & understanding of one's place in the universe.  The chapters oscillate from one fascinating character to the next.  Murray's drives the multilayered plot with an amalgam of alarming incidents, compelling historic context, ponderings of theoretical & philosophoical ideas and persuasive poetry.  The possibility of multiple universes is a common thread throughout.  The import being everyone too preoccupied trying to find their way somewhere else they miss out on the world they're in.  Murray is a masterful writer of wisdom & wit. "Stories make things make sense, but the way they do that is to leave out aything that doesn't fit."  "Skippy Dies" doesn't skimp on many of the things that matter in life.  "There is another world, and it is in this one." (P Eluard)

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