Last January I kicked off my year of reading with Paul Murray's The Bee Sting and absolutely loved it. This year, as fate would have it, I've started with another Irish novel. If this is the beginning of a new tradition where my first book of the year is an Irish book that I love, then sign me up.

I really loved this book.

There's a lot going on here. We start in New York in September of 2001. The planes have just hit the Twin Towers, and Cora has become an orphan. From there we begin a generational journey that will take us back to 1974 and all the way to the present day as we spend time with all the people whose lives are impacted by this one death among thousands. Along the way we explore the generational impact of trauma brought on by poor mental health; the AIDS crisis; abortion rights in Ireland and, later, America; what it means to be gay in a country that won't legally recognise your relationships. The power of art to heal and to damage in equal measure. The way people come in and out of your life, and how once they're gone it's hard - if not impossible - to put things back the way they were. There's tragedy, and loss, and grief, but it's always threaded through and held together by love, and redemption, and the idea that you make your own family and hold on to the people you care for.

I read this in two sittings on consecutive days, but when I reached the end I was surprised by that fact. It felt like I'd spent a lot longer than six hours with this book. That's not to say that it's slow going, though. I would describe the pace as 'measured' - the narrative takes its time to reveal itself, but at the same time there are no wasted moments. I really felt like I was sinking into this world and these lives, wanting to learn everything I possible could about these characters and their complicated history.

In marketing material Confessions has been compared to Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and I think that's an apt comparison on the surface. I really enjoyed that book when I read it last year, but I found that even though I loved it while I was reading it I was left with a sense that none of it really mattered once it ended. Because it spans such a wide amount of time I never really felt able to get down in the dirt with the characters; everything felt very surface level, with no real depth. That's not the case here, and I feel like this is the sort of book that is going to reward rereading.

Without wanting to gush too much, this is one of the most assured debuts I've read in a long time, potentially up there with Yael van der Wouden's The Safekeep (which was my favourite book last year). Every character feels real and alive on the page, and each of them has a distinct voice, including some of the best use of the second person I've ever read. The plot slots together like the most intricate of puzzles Even when the novel feels like it's about to falter, Airey knows exactly what she's doing. There's a reveal in the finale (which I won't spoil here) that, when it was first hinted at - i.e. when we realise what's happening but before the characters do - felt a little contrived. I was seriously concerned that, with just 60 pages to go in the novel, the magic of the book had been ruined. But when the moment arrived it was perfect, and it brings everything to a beautifully satisfying close.
 
This was a book I was really excited about when I first saw it announced, and I'm very pleased to say that it lived up to my expectations entirely. This was a great way to start the year.