Paul Murray's latest novel is a tome-length family saga set in post-Crash Ireland, but to say this is a novel solely about that period would be to do it a disservice. It is far more than that.
The crux of this story is the Barnes family, with each part detailing a family member’s experiences of the Irish recession. It weaves through each, from the Dad Dickie, whose car dealership is going bust, through to the daughter Cass, who, by virtue of being a teenager, thinks the global economic downturn is a personal affliction. These sections sprout roots and delve deep into often-unspoken personal histories. It’s a story of love and loss, of secrets, of surviving.
The Bee Sting is a novel of navigating and living despite faded hopes: the mother, Imelda who could have been a beauty queen; Dickie who denies his own sexuality after a homophobic assault ; his brother Frank, an all-star GAA player who crumbles during a Big Game. The portrayal of the what if of life – what could / should / would have been - stems further than the global economic crash into a deep history of shame and lives lived in secret which echo throughout the characters’ lifetimes. The pithiest description of this novel comes from Dickie when he says: 'We don’t know ourselves.’ A throw-away truism which reflects his own hidden secrets from his student years in Dublin.
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The Bee Sting - Paul Murray talks to Brendan O'Connor
This is the pattern of The Bee Sting. Murray begins with a hyper-focus on each of the characters, then pulls the rug from under the reader by sprawling the narrative out into vignettes of the previous decades. With a delicate touch, Murray unsettles what the reader knows of each of the characters, drawing close the decisions which have led them to where they are now. Dickie’s wife, Imelda, mourns the loss of her true love who, needless to say, is not her husband. Their son PJ is being groomed online. Cass is out on the tear in bars as her Leaving Cert exams approach. With each, the family may be in close proximity, but they’re all none the wiser about the lives the others are living.
It feels gauche to mention the sheer enjoyment of reading here, but this after all is why we pick up novels. I feel it worth mentioning that although The Bee Sting has all the hallmarks of a book I wouldn’t enjoy (a tome-sized family saga), I have to say, it has been a revelation: I loved every second of reading this. I found myself reaching for it on tubes and buses, stealing five minutes to read it as I waited for a coffee, staying up late to read in bed, despite my near-religious sleeping schedule. It has been a pleasure to read, and to say that it’s changed my outlook on reading, my choices, and tastes, would be an understatement. The Bee Sting has allowed me to re-evaluate my prior notions, and to get out of my own way for discovering new fiction.
