The NYTimes describes his talent so well.
The story of a middle-aged widow struggling to remake her life after the premature death of her husband, it is written without a single physical description of its characters or adverbial signpost to guide our interpretation of their speech. The emotional distance between protagonist and reader is so great that at times the title character seems almost spectral. Yet it is precisely Toibin’s radical restraint that elevates what might have been a familiar tale of grief and survival into a realm of heightened inquiry. The result is a luminous, elliptical novel in which everyday life manages, in moments, to approach the mystical.after I read the novel and went back to read this review, I realized that I had NO idea what Nora looks like. I can imply through passages what she may look like, but it's strictly MY interpretation of her actions and of the narrative that lead my to draw my own conclusions. It's really a remarkable piece of writing. Very different from Brooklyn, which I also loved.
Nothing "happens" in this novel. Rather it is just that Toibin is describing life as it happens to most of us.....little events going on each day that add up to transforming us. Nora's transformation comes from her interest in music...something that could not happen when Maurice was alive. But in the end it's what helps her move from that part of her life to the next part...her life without him.
A very interesting read. Quiet, profound, touching....
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