Who would have thought that a good Jewish boy (me) would adore a book about Nuns? Alice McDermott, that’s who! Obviously, she had no idea I was going to read her novel The Ninth Hour, but the book is so warm and generous that it overwhelmed my cynical, Jewish exterior. It is a religious novel, it is steeped in Godly virtues, in acts of forgiveness, in moments of piety and self-sacrifice. But the message that comes through is that devotion to God also requires compassion and love and sometimes turning a blind eye. The Sisters presented in the book all, to one extent or another, compromise for the sake of human decency, for the sake of what’s fair and just even if it doesn’t adhere to God’s Law. That’s not to say there aren’t repercussions but for Sisters like St. Saviour there is a willingness to take action and then deal with God later.

The story of Anne and her daughter Sally anchors the novel in the world rather than the Convent which only emphasises the complications of being holy and being kind. Throughout it all, though, McDermott writes with the empathy and love exhibited by her Sisters, even the hard-bitten Sister Lucy, and that makes the novel a true joy to read.