"I loved this novel. All the female characters are complex and fascinating, and full of anger and hope. I found it an addictive read." — Gillian Anderson, actor
"Propelled by a gripping narrative and powerfully drawn characters The Coast Road makes for compulsive reading. Alan Murrin has written a poignant, utterly truthful story of passions prejudice and tragedy in a small town." — Gabriel Byrne, actor and author of Walking with Ghosts
"Alan Murrin is a gifted storyteller, his characters so fully realised I fretted for them as I read. A beautiful, accomplished debut." — Louise Kennedy, author of Trespasses
"Alan Murrin writes with the calm, poetic fluency of the best of Irish writers. The Coast Road is set in Donegal the year before divorce became legal in Ireland, and the many themes are equally—sadly—as relevant now. Women's autonomy is beautifully scrutinised in a shifting tempo that moves between rage, forgiveness, and hope. It's a stonkingly good novel. Just read it." — Sarah Winman, author of Still Life and Tin Man
“This is an incredibly satisfying novel, told with great tenderness and tremendous storytelling verve. A book to be savoured.” — Colin Walsh, author of Kala
“An exceptional debut about marriage and freedom, about love and the ways it can heal and hurt us. A must read for 2024.” — Sarah Crossan, author of Here Is the Beehive
"An assured, gripping debut." — Jaime Quatro, author of Fire Sermon
"An eerie, urgent debut from an exciting new voice." — Neil Blackmore, author of Radical Love
"A smashing debut ... Each of the characters is vividly rendered, and Murrin excels at portraying the rippling consequences of small-town gossip and intolerance. This is a marvel." — Publishers Weekly
"Murrin powerfully renders the ways that women's freedom, individuality, and self-expression are stifled by religion, custom, and gossip." — New Yorker
"A painful, gorgeous debut." — Elle
"A perfect book club read. . . . This accomplished debut novel explores failing relationships in a small town in 90s Ireland—when divorce was not an option. . . . It is thoughtful, readable and funny, and even occasionally thrilling. . . . If the book club queen Reese Witherspoon relocated to the Irish Republic, this would tick all her boxes. . . . An assured and powerful debut." — The Sunday Times
"Murrin’s novel is immaculately crafted, his characterisation beautifully nuanced. . . . Murrin writes perceptively about love, desire and the limitations placed on women . . . this is a compelling, compassionate page-turner." — The Observer
"Murrin switches with remarkable ease between perspectives, at home in the voice of a bohemian poet as he is a priest or plumber. This fluid narrative style makes for an engrossing read and it’s clear to see why his debut was part of a five-way auction… [Murrin] has written a gripping character-driven novel that is accessible and literary in style." — The Irish Times
"Tender, truthful and simmering with rage, Murrin’s lyrical debut delves into troubled marriages on the eve of Ireland’s’ referendum… It’s an emotionally eviscerating tale, told in deceptively calm prose." — The Mail on Sunday
"Scandal, hypocrisy and the stigma of divorce make this Irish novel sing… The story is crisply told. Murrin is sceptically yet tenderly observant." — The Sunday Telegraph
"Murrin is at his best when he is dissecting the intricacies of human relationships with the scalpel-wielding precision of a surgeon." — The Business Post
"With nuanced observations, humour and heartbreak, the novel mirrors the backdrop of the sea, whose ebb and flow belies dangerous currents below the surface." — Women & Home, Book of the Month
"Murrin writes with a masterful ease and confidence." — The Debut Digest
"This story of tragedy and strength casts you into the waves of small-town life." — Sainsbury's Magazine
"The novel is wonderful on what it means to live in a patriarchal society and the consequences women can suffer for trying to follow their dreams. Compelling." — The Daily Mail
"Alan Murrin is one of the sharpest new minds on the literary scene. His debut novel . . . [is] a journey of self-discovery and tragedy." — Sheerluxe
"Impressive….An intriguing addition to the swelling library of contemporary Irish novels—Claire Keegan’s Small Things Like These (2021), Paul Murray’s The Bee Sting (2023) and Colin Barrett’s Wild Houses (2024) just a few of them—that find stories in the gap between the thronging town and the open countryside." — Times Literary Supplement
"Murrin . . . brings his lived experiences to the story, and his focus on how two women strove for independence when divorce was still illegal is a moving, vivid story." — Town & Country
"The Coast Road is a powerful story and Alan Murrin is an exceptional new talent." — Sunday Independent
2024-04-19
In Ardglas, a small Irish town, women are struggling with their marriages and their choices in the mid-1990s.
Three wives in particular are the focus of Murrin’s debut, which looks empathetically on the women’s cramped lives and options. Izzy Keaveney has been fighting, off and on, with her husband, James, for more than 20 years and suffers periods of depression. Frustrated that James gave away the lease to her florist business and now refuses to buy it back, she’s recently found a more simpatico male presence in the form of parish priest Father Brian Dempsey. Dolores Mullen, mother of three and pregnant again, has long endured the cruelty and promiscuity of her husband, Donal, who constantly demeans and criticizes her. Poet Colette Crowley took the unusual step of leaving her husband, Shaun, and their three sons to have an affair in Dublin. But now she’s back, regretful, short of cash, and keen to make amends with the children. (The unavailability of divorce in Ireland during the main part of the book is intrinsic to the story.) The friendship that forms between Izzy and Colette also becomes a vehicle for Colette to spend time secretly with her youngest child, but when Shaun finds out, he strikes back. Meanwhile, Donal is sleeping with Colette, and James, threatened by the intimacy between Izzy and Brian, uses his heft as a politician to have the priest removed from the parish. The wives are the fuller characters in Murrin’s gloomy depiction of a stifling, gossipy, traditional community, whereas the men, Brian excepted, emerge badly and more thinly. Colette, falling apart, and Izzy, taking a stand, personify the extremes of their options, one ultimately tragic, the other more accommodating, in a downbeat story, closely observed but shaded with a heavy hand.
Overstatement detracts from this compassionate depiction of hard times.