Reviews
Moving . . . Follows a widower and his 29-year-old daughter as they go through the motions of daily life while concealing core truths about themselves—until a foundling child upends their comfortable routine.
A powerful pleasure to find myself back in Faha where the prose is luminous, the people irresistible, the stories mesmerizing, and it never stops raining.
On the surface,
Time of the Child by Niall Williams is an elegiac portrait of life in an Irish village in the Christmas season of 1962. But it is so much more than that. Somehow, by laying bare the inner lives of these decent country people, my own life feels so much richer for having read it. I was deeply moved by this novel.
There is so much to admire in Niall Williams new novel—the lyrical language, how landscape and destiny intertwine, the complex bonds of community—but what impresses most is how vividly he enters the innermost thoughts of his characters, thus revealing their seemingly quiet existences brim with the profoundest questionings of how we should live our lives.
Time of the Child is a triumph.
A rich and gorgeous book
I've just emerged from a Niall Williams binge with a belated appreciation for his writing . . . [
Time of the Child] feels, at once, realistic in its rough and comic everyday unfolding and mythic in its riffs on the grand themes of despair and spiritual redemption . . . [it] gives readers that singular experience of nearness to the marvelous.
This is a story to read slowly, to savor, and to return to again and again. I suspect that when I pick it back up in years to come, rediscovering Williams’ characters will feel like a reunion with old friends.
A superb choice for anyone who wants to satisfy an avid reader on a gift list this year. But the truth is that it’s a timeless story to be relished in any season.
With writing so stunning,
Time of The Child forces the reader to turn down page after page to always remember what genius is. Another glorious and touching novel from Niall Williams, one of the world's greatest storytellers.
Oh, the utter goosebumpy pleasure of reading this book! The experience will fill you up, even if you didn't know there was an emptiness there to begin with. Niall Williams reminds us again and again that the small and the ordinary are married to amazement, that dailiness and miracles walk hand in hand, and that other people are a mystery: Approach with curiosity! Approach with grace.
Niall Williams is one of Ireland’s greatest storytellers, and Time of the Child is his finest, and most compelling work to date.
Williams’ story is unveiled in exquisite, sonorous prose that is uniquely, musically Irish. But his sentences aren’t merely beautiful for their own sake: They are beautiful precisely because they are attentive to the specific power of language to elicit, to move, and to invite a reader into the transcendence that a great story can provide.
The remote, rain-soaked village of Faha is to the brilliant Irish writer Niall Williams what Yoknapatawpha County was to William Faulkner . . .
Time of the Child is a Christmas tale of the very best sort, one that reminds us of the fundamental mystery of being human. Even in this sinking parish on the furthermost edge of nowhere, in the dark and dying time of the year, there’s something in the air that speaks of the miraculous.
An exquisite portrayal of everyday life in the rural west Ireland of 1962 . . . Akin to Dickens in his observations, Williams’ descriptions of gesture hint at his characters’ interior landscapes. Kind and funny, this needs a great film director.
If you’re looking for a holiday season weepie, Niall Williams has you covered.
Gorgeous, wry and humane . . .
Time of the Child may have the best sentences of any novel this year . . . An essentially realistic book that lovingly observes the minutiae of its characters’ day-to-day lives but there’s an element of quiet magic afoot, too.
In this poignant novel, miracles abound . . . An engrossing read, the dark and the rain and the shabby but hopeful holiday decorations blending with the peat smoke and the love, all coming fully alive on the page. And that is something of a miracle itself.
Resplendent . . . Few contemporary novelists create worlds and characters so amazingly alive and specific . . . Anyone who cherishes great writing should want more and more from Williams.
A study in human community that made me laugh out loud and remember how to love even the people who cause others so much suffering, and especially those who come together to ease it.
A Christmas miracle lies at the heart of this tender offering . . . Williams works up to the miraculous event with steady pacing, breathing life into the characters and crafting a memorable sense of place. For those looking to get into the holiday spirit, this is just the ticket.
Exploring possibility with a generous and intimate spirit, Williams invokes an ode to love.
Heartwarming . . . If you are looking for a novel that speaks to our better angels, put down the newspaper, turn off the cable news, and read
Time of the Child.
One of my favorite books of the year . . . It’s a rich, complicated, believable story. And while you may hope for a happy ending—or at least the possibility of a happy ending—it’s too real to just assume a happy ending. But hope? Hope in human nature and hope in decency and hope for change in a stunted life? You can always have hope, which
Time of the Child offers in abundance.
I am such a fan of Niall Williams.
Williams . . . is a master of Irish storytelling, crafting sentences that tempt the reader to double back and read again - and characters that get under your skin.
It’s rare in contemporary fiction to see a community so well imagined and brought vividly to life. With a blend of thoughtful characterization and language that both captures the tenor of Irish speech and is beautiful in its own right, Niall Williams’
Time of the Child might be just the gift we all need for the holidays.
Another master class in stunningly poetic depictions of the sorrow and beauty of arduous lives.
A beautiful writer.
Williams’s phrasing is immaculate and even the smallest characters are drawn with attention and detail . . . Dr Troy is the heart of this slow, rich novel.
A slow-burning, finely crafted novel about second chances, humanity and familial love,
Time of the Child rewards close reading . . . Williams’s descriptive language is extraordinary – his use of understatement and irony artfully deployed, his characterization sublime.
Williams quietly lets us glimpse the story’s underlying harshness between the lines of his warm and finely turned festive tale . . . It’s another lyrical, mid-20th-century tapestry set in a slowly transforming society as the advent of electricity revolutionizes everyday life.
Revelatory . . . Perhaps the most heartwarming thing of all is how the reader is welcomed into Faha’s world. When I cried, it was because, with his careful and compassionate depictions of people, place and time, Williams reminds us of the humanity in all, of the vitality of a community that comes together, and of the power in revealing our vulnerabilities to others.
Dazzles . . . A stylistic cousin to the vernacular achievements of Kevin Barry and Roddy Doyle, but also distinctive: Williams draws on idiosyncrasies of speech but with an eye on literary gloss . . . Williams packs his paragraphs with lush imagery and piercing psychological insight. Line by line, it may be the most beautifully written novel I’ve read this year. Let’s raise a glass of mulled wine to an Emerald Isle master at the peak of his powers.
A lyrical writer . . . Moist eyes are all but assured.
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