THIS novel describes the life and friends of a middle aged novelist, Junior Nash, who with one book, Hand Me Down, under his belt, is struggling to complete his next, The Second hand Wardrobe. However, his real purpose in life is to preserve the "Cove" at the seaside as a men only zone for him and his fellow members of "The Cove Shivering Club".
He and his best friend, Dunstan Tucker, were inaugurated into the club, at the age often, by swimming naked across and back in the bay on the Atlantic, on Good Friday. The only rules are no woman allowed, and no pissing in the water. This male haven is now under threat, as some of the club believe it is time to admit women. The decision rests on an election after a Good Friday swim. The narrative describes the contorted antics of Junior and his mates to pack enough supporters into the cove to repel the tide.
As background music there is Junior's devotion to his pal, Dunstan, despite the fact that Dunstan has got everything of his Junior's girl, Peggy, and what should be Junior's family, Warren. Dunstan, because of a childhood disappointment, at the cost of everything, devotes his considerable charm, energy and low cunning to the obsessive task of ripping off banks. Curtin makes his case early on in his story: "Where's the harm in all of us? Kids trying to be men and men hanging on to childhood." There is no harm in any of them and it is a charming story, with these childlike men and their quirks and idiosyncrasies.
The problem with the telling, of this farce is that with foggy plotting to wade through, the pace slackens. The lead in to the set pieces is always over long the first showdown with Joe the Boss, the performance of Baptista and the Blessed Virgins, the silver jubilee of the Bedouin Showband. By the time of the final sting, the off key timing has become an irritant. When the writer stops pushing his prose and indulges in the pure bathos of the relaxed last chapter, he glides.
Curtin hits target with his throwaways. For his heroes as schoolboys in the 1950s, "it was the belle epoque of corporal punishment". A gullible retired bank manager fiddles with his "goodbye Parker", and when Dunstan's first business venture fails, Junior observes: "We were still decent people then, so Dunstan didn't have the brains to claim against his own insurance." In Mick O'Mara, the barman at the "Seaside", the author has a star. He appears on the scene when Ingy (one of the Cove gang) goes into his bar:
"Mick O'Mara wouldn't take for the pint and reminisced about his days in London . . He swam at the Forty Foot himself, Ingy told Mick O'Mara by way of establishing his bona fides. What? Sure, good God man, haven't I a grand cesspit beyond in the farm?" Ingy's sister wanders in, having defied the men at the cove, ". . . when Mick O'Mara heard she had slipped on the rocks, he said, sure, good God man, them rocks are dangerous bastards, and called out, Mary, we've a casualty, look after the poor creature and flog on a mixed grill, the poor people must be famished . . . They had a job escaping from Mick O'Mara's. Ordered by Dessie to evacuate the Seaside, Ingy charged into Mick O'Mara's with the news that Dessie had a phone call and their mother had a stroke. Sure, good God man, no one can drive, in the state ye must be in, sure I'll drive ye myself, Mary will whip up a few sandwiches and.
There is nothing wrong with Curtin's dialogue or his charcterisation, but it is the elusive gilt of timing that is missing from his comedy of life.
