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Tana FrenchA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
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Cal Hooper is a 48-year-old former cop who is seeking out early retirement in the West of Ireland. Six-foot-four, solidly built Cal is conscious that his size makes him conspicuous and may be intimidating, especially to women, so he portrays a charming, self-depreciating persona. He also maintains the “thick backwoods drawl” of his North Carolina grandfather’s friends to seem approachable and gain people’s trust (143). Nevertheless, he is genuinely compassionate and willing to look beyond the local rumor mill in assessing people’s character for himself.
Recently divorced and disillusioned with his former employment, following an incident that almost led to him and his partner shooting a Black teenager, Cal begins the novel with the intention to keep to himself and enjoy countryside pursuits such as rabbit hunting, fishing, and refurbishing his home. He thus harks back to the simpler time when he was growing up in North Carolina and his grandfather was teaching him to hunt and fish. This is symbolic of him wishing to throw off the adult experience that he feels has corrupted him and to enter a childlike state in a land far from home, where no-one knows him.
Cal’s initial wish to deny that Trey is watching him, aligns with his general state of denial at the beginning of the novel. He actively subdues his instincts as a cop and his natural wish to be of service with a front of affected indifference. His wish to avoid emotional attachment following a messy divorce and estrangement from his daughter, also manifests in his putting off intimacy with Lena, even though he is attracted to her.
However, as Cal’s unfulfilled parental instincts and his feelings of guilt towards his daughter lead him to take up Trey’s case, he finds that he must confront the mistakes of his past. He learns to nurture Trey, throwing off the tropes of patriarchal masculinity, as he feeds and nurses her, instead of being the macho type of hero who beats up her assailants. As he navigates the messy moral code of Ardnakelty, where notions of right and wrong are not as clearly delineated as they are in the American police force, Cal learns to let go of his wish for a standard of moral perfection and do the best he can in the given circumstances.
Thirteen-year-old Trey is the catalyst for the disruption Cal’s dream of self-sufficiency in Ireland. Trey, who is scrawny, disheveled and ambiguously gendered enough to pass as a boy, is also quietly determined. French often describes her in animal terms, for example, she is built like a “jackrabbit” (236) and “twists like a bobcat, with a hiss of breath” before biting Cal’s hand (13). These creaturely tropes, in addition to her expert navigation of the harsh West Irish landscape, etherealize Trey, and highlight how she prioritizes action over words.
Hailing from the Reddy clan, the most deplored family in Ardnakelty, Trey puts on a tough front and is mistrustful of others. However, she is also unusually resilient and brave, deciding to tackle hostile Donie McGrath on her own and returning to Cal even after he has told her never to come back after the shock of finding out that she is in fact a girl. Trey is more than the product of her upbringing, in her childish admiration of her older brother Brendan, her eagerness for gainful employment, and her perfectionism in repairing Cal’s furniture. Through her character, it is illustrated how, with encouragement, hardship-worn children like Trey can participate in society.
Trey’s decision to keep the buzz-cut her mother gave her to get rid of lice, because she preferred it to a typically feminine hairstyle, reveals a modern, fluid attitude to gender. Her choice to present in the way that is most convenient, rather than in accordance with her assigned gender, forms a distinction between her and those of the older generation in Ardnakelty, who conform to heteronormative gender roles. When she gives Cal another chance after he has rejected her and Cal in turn learns to focus on her character rather than her gender, a truce is established between the older and younger generation.
Although we never meet Trey’s 19-year-old brother Brendan directly in the novel, as he vanishes about six months before Cal’s arrival in Ardnakelty, his presence looms large in the community. Brendan is “thin, brown-haired, with the kind of sensitive high-boned features that are good-looking in some moods and not in others, and that imply quick changes” (133). Brendan’s physicality corresponds with his tendency to act impulsively and make generous overtures thoughtlessly, such as when he obtains concert tickets for his girlfriend on the night before her college exam. This quality, in addition to Brendan’s inability to sit still and focus, causes him to underperform on his Leaving Certificate, barring him from attending college and doing an injustice to his talents in chemistry and engineering.
When Brendan finds himself broke and at a loose end as his girlfriend and friends attend college, he adopts a start-up mentality that causes him to seek enterprises that are based outside of Ardnakelty, such as becoming involved with a Dublin drug ring. While Cal initially sees Brendan as “a wild kid galloping after the first and easiest idea that sprang up in his head”, on seeing the ordered state of the cottage he obtained for his businesses, Cal judges that Brendan worked “methodically, systematically, taking his time and setting all his pieces in place” (239). Thus, Brendan uses his engineering talents to make the best of a bad situation.
As flawed and impulsive as Brendan is, Trey’s loyalty to him and Caroline’s positive testament, indicate that he has a sympathetic, intelligent character, who could have fulfilled his potential in different circumstances. Although he shares his father Johnny Reddy’s penchant for big ideas, he is far more caring and considerate, as he protects his younger siblings from John and gets involved in their upbringing. Arguably, Brendan epitomizes a younger generation that does not fit in with the Ardnakelty old guard’s landed values. Both Donie McGrath and Mart Lavin mock Brendan’s prowess in chemistry, making comments such as “if he’d been a little less sharp when it came to the aul’ chemistry and a little sharper when it came to human beings, he’d be alive today” (354). This indicates that Brendan’s intellect was threatening to the old guard, who saw no other choice but to get rid of him.
Sheila Reddy hails from the respectable Brady family and had designs of becoming a nurse. Since her marriage to Johnny Reddy, a man with plenty of ideas but little commitment, her fortunes have changed. When Johnny leaves Sheila for London, two years before the main narrative, she is forced to raise their six children alone and in poverty.
Sheila is the subject of malicious gossip and especially scorned for her marriage to Johnny and her wayward children. Some more sympathetic observers, such as Sheila’s school-friend Lena see that Sheila is doing the best with the little she has available to her. Certainly, when Cal first sees Sheila, her physical appearance suggests that she was conditioned by hardship rather than a bad character. The details of “rough red-brown hair pulled back in a sloppy bun, and a weather-beaten, high-boned face that must have been verging on beautiful way back when” (112), indicate that like Brendan, Sheila’s circumstances have not allowed her to live up to her potential. Although she is guarded with Cal, not entirely buying his rustic hick persona, her inability to resist the gift of chocolate for her children indicates her susceptibility to the rare kindnesses that are bestowed upon her.
As a single mother who has fallen out of societal favor, Sheila has low status and little protection in Ardnakelty. Her children Brendan and Trey disregard her authority and she is threatened into performing the unthinkable act of beating her daughter by the men who caused her son to vanish. Towards the end of the novel, Cal and Lena campaign for Sheila to be considered a victim of her circumstances and reincorporated into the community, as they work for a fairer system.
Cal’s 61-year-old neighbor, Mart Lavin, “loves conversation” and is thrilled when Cal moves to town because “he’s sucked all the juice out of everyone here” (16). Mart seems like an open book, frankly confessing to Cal that he is not the marrying kind and inviting him to taste his culinary concoctions. Garrulous, wise-cracking Mart plays the busybody fool even better than Cal, as he asserts his authority over his new neighbor in ways that seem innocuous. For example, Mart lets slip that he knows things that Cal has attempted to conceal in a chatty, casual manner, which means that Cal, who is used to American directness, does not know where he stands. Mart’s manner, which is far from that of the typical villain, causes Cal to disregard him as a potential suspect in Brendan’s disappearance.
Still, over time, Cal notices how Mart attempts to control him and sues out his business and begins to manage his encounters with Mart, either by plying him with his favorite biscuits, or carefully timing his visits to the pub, Seán Óg's. It is only towards the end of the novel that Cal and the reader see Mart for who he is —the ringleader of a group of conservative local men who want to maintain the status quo, where the landed keep the lion’s share of power and dismiss the challenge of young men who seek to be enterprising in other ways. While Mart assumes he is progressive enough because he voted for modernizing measures such as gay marriage, he has a ruthless, controlling streak and will stop at nothing to ensure that he maintains his share of power.
Noreen, who runs the Ardnakelty supply store, is a minor character who is nevertheless instrumental in showing up the affiliations and rivalries in the village. For example, she refuses to stock the cookies Mart likes owing to an old family dispute and lets Cal have the cheese he likes instead of Bobby Feeny when Cal is complying by the community’s expectations of not interfering. Similarly, Noreen only considers Cal a worthy match of her sister Lena when she approves of him, comically presenting and withdrawing these assets according to her views on Cal’s behavior.
As the narrative progresses, Cal feels that like Mart, Noreen is keeping a close watch on him and reporting his movements to others. His sense of obligation to visit her store when even he would wish for the anonymity of a place in town, contributes to his sense of claustrophobia in Ardnakelty as he finds himself entrapped within the expectations of the town.
Mart and Noreen set up tall, blond widowed Lena as a prize for Cal. Mart conveys that her attractiveness is of the countryside variety, in being “a fine strapping lass […] not one of them scrawny young ones that you’d lose if they turned sideways” (18). When Cal sees her in person, he finds her build and fast stride attractive, especially as a contrast to diminutive Donna. However, Lena’s most striking feature in close-knit Ardnakelty, is her independence. Far from being a melancholy widow, Lena is content that her husband Sean’s death has liberated her from the duties of farm ownership, as she is able to organize her time as she wishes. Lena is self-possessed enough to endure the slur of “cold bitch” put to her by Sean’s family after she affirms that she will not continue his life’s work on the farm (84). Although Ardnakelty’s old guard approves of Lena, whilst begrudging her independence, she too is a symbol of social change in putting her wishes before the conventions of devoted widowhood. She also refuses to be in thrall to Cal, standing up to him and refusing to go out with him until he puts his boyish schemes of heroism behind him.
Lena is also a reliable character given her pragmatic rather than prejudiced perspective on the Reddys. Having known Sheila in her youth, when they were both “wild,” she sees Sheila as a product of her circumstances, following the bad decision to marry unreliable Johnny Reddy (57). She puts forth the view that “Sheila does the best she can” given that she has “spent twenty-five years on the wrong side of Johnny Reddy and Ardnakelty” (298). This, in addition to her earthy sense of humor make her a suitable match for Cal.
Cal judges Donie McGrath as the “type who would carry a Glock to make him feel like a badass gangster and would have no clue how to handle it” (36). Donie is characterized as a foolish, hot-headed guy who seeks to attain the swagger of intimidation and influence. Donie lives with his mother and is the obvious person behind Brendan’s disappearance, given his connections to a Dublin drug crew and propensity to speak harshly of his former rival. When it emerges that Donie has been killing the sheep in local farms to put “the frighteners on those aul’ fellas” so that they will keep quiet about matters relating to the drug crew and Brendan (316), Cal continues to pursue him for information. While in reality, Donie’s role in Brendan’s disappearance is relatively small, French sets up him and the Dublin drug crew he represents as a foil to the far more local involvement of Ardnakelty’s old guard.
Cal highly rates Brendan’s former girlfriend, who has “disorganised brown curls and a round, freckled face with an engaging smile” for her competence and confidence (189). She is ambitious like Brendan, but more pragmatic, in seeking to rise by doing well enough at school to study hotel management, a degree that will allow her to travel.
She evades the crisis of purpose that engulfs Ardnakelty’s young men, as she “has the spark of a woman who’s going places” (191). She thus conforms to Mart’s assessment at the end of the novel that the young women are more adaptable to social change than the young men.
Caroline also plays a vital role in the text in vouching for Brendan’s good character and thus making him more sympathetic to the reader. She is confident in her statement that despite being impulsive, he follows through with his promises, definitively not wanting to be like his father Johnny. She also, like Lena, is aware that the local rumor mill has been unfair to the Reddys and wildly exaggerated their vices.
Fergal, who has “a big grin, a moon face with spit-shined red cheeks like a kid’s,” is the farmer type who best conforms to Ardnakelty’s old guard’s ideas of wholesome masculinity (133). Unlike his peers, Fergal is tied to his flock and the land. Fergal is pleasant and appears slow in his thinking and movements. He seems trustworthy enough that Brendan would ask him for the hundred euros to fund his scheme. Cal holds back the intensity of his inquiry, as he doesn’t want to manipulate Fergal, who exhibits a lower level of intelligence. Fergal is one of the few friends of Brendan’s who he doesn’t push further, as Cal thinks, “it feels too much like playground picking on the weak kid” (140).
However, Fergal’s easygoing demeanor conceals a stubbornness that determines not to satisfy Cal’s inquiries into Brendan’s whereabouts. He chants the party line about Brendan turning up sooner or later. Rather than emerging as an individual, Fergal chimes in with the ways of the older generation, and is a passive character rather than a portal to the future.
Cal’s 25-year old daughter Alyssa lives in Seattle, Washington, and embodies the values of her area in having a job in a non-profit for at-risk teenagers and a “little earnest” and politically correct boyfriend named Ben (44). Her relationship with her father has been strained ever since she was mugged two years earlier and Cal sought to track down the mugger instead of spending time with Alyssa during her recovery. The distance between them becomes evident in phone calls and text messages that avoid all serious subjects.
Cal’s sense that he has failed Alyssa shadows his relationship with Trey, as he unconsciously tries to give Trey the parental attention that he was not able to give Alyssa. However, at the end of the novel, when Cal seeks Alyssa’s advice in how to handle Trey, his relationship with his daughter begins to be repaired. He feels content that he raised a socially conscious daughter and she feels flattered that her father has sought out her help and entrusted her with something that matters to him.
Cal’s former wife Donna is five-feet-four inches with “mobile upswept features” (43). She left Cal for Elliot, a man in her book club, following the episode in Seattle when they went to visit Alyssa. While Cal refers to a past when he and Donna were in love and happy, Donna is not characterized as likeable. She speaks to him in legalistic, formal tones over the telephone and she becomes the negative voice in Cal’s head, putting him down whenever he seeks to do things his own way. For example: “Donna would give him shit about the way he’s been eating, which doesn’t include a whole lot of fibre and fresh vegetables” (8). Over the course of the book, Cal’s character development depends on him caring less about what Donna would think and being content with doing things his own way. He thus learns to let go of wishing for a better past.
Nevertheless, Cal also must face up to the mistakes that led to Donna leaving him; namely, his refusal to comfort Alyssa after her mugging in favor of playing the hero. He is forced to learn the value of nurture, a traditionally feminine virtue, when another woman, Lena, forces it upon him. Once he has been able to nurture Trey as he should have done Alyssa, Cal is able to properly move on from Donna and contemplate a new beginning with Lena.
By Tana French