Niamh Mulvey

‘’A blackbird in the hawthorn in the spring. That’s what she wrote about in her essay.’’

‘’A fresh wind blew in and shook the early blossoms off the trees in the garden and everything in my house was beautiful and well made, and I saw it all with her eyes before I left to meet her.’’

Mother’s Day: A woman meets her mother at a gallery as they both find themselves at opposite points. A tender, yet sad story about the fragile bond between mothers and daughters and the complex consequences when money enters the picture. Beautiful writing, rich in the quiet nostalgia of days gone by…

My First Marina: A young woman, haunted by the death of her friend, finds ‘solace’ in promiscuity. However, passing from bed to bed will not bring you comfort.

Blackbirds: In this almost unbearably tender story, two siblings lead vastly opposite lives, but their unique bond remains unbreakable. Quietly haunting, extremely poignant.

Feathers: A despicable young woman (who thinks someone in their mid-thirties does NOT have the right to be pretty…) is taught a valuable life lesson by a spirited Frenchwoman. It is a token of a talented writer to make you care about a character you want to slap dead.

‘’It was early summer, the dusk was blue and long. He drove his small car to the outskirts of town. They would sit and eat ice creams, jelly sweets, the doors wide open, the grass wet and humming, the river nearby full and swollen and brown.’’

First Time: A soft, whimsical story of teenage shenanigans and the unavoidable repercussions of rebellious, young love.

Childcare: What can you do when the most important person in your life - your mother - is the most inadequate guardian, solely focused on satisfying her huge ego? You thank God for your grandmother. And you pray to become a grown-up as swiftly as possible. A story about an issue that is getting more and more common in today’s society.

The Doll: A doll becomes a projection for complex relationships, impulses of youth, mental health, and the havoc that comes with immature - can we ever call it such a name? - love.

‘’I yearn for answers but there is no space here. I cannot hear myself, you say.
I have all the answers you need. But you need to find the right questions, your mother says.’’

Currency: Six pages of an emotional rollercoaster of a story in which a teenage girl pines for a boy, resorts to witchcraft and regrets her actions. Is first love bound to fail and become lost in oblivion?

Good For You, Cecilia: What started as a fascinating story about performing live, serving your art, dancing and overcoming your fears, ended up being a libel against religion, thanks to its obnoxious, idiot ‘protagonist’. Atheism is not a fashion, it is not progress, it is a token of you being a coward and an idiot.
Hearts and Bones: ‘’- that in the words Jesus uttered on the cross, my God, my God, why have you forsaken me, he was telling us it was okay just to feel sadness, just to feel confusion. To have faith is to stay with this confusion, to not understand, to not want to understand.’’

No summary is needed…

This collection is like the soft rays of light entering a room on a spring’s afternoon, like the serenity of a summer’s hazy evening during blue hour. Dealing with difficult subjects, yet never becoming verbose, preachy, or ‘’too’’ darκ. It’s like a discussion between family members who have finally resolved their problems.

Sadness and hope walk hand-in-hand in life, as do the innocence of youth and the corruption of adulthood.

‘’Outside, the dead of night. Revellers. Moonlight. Noises. You are happy here. You are happy because you do not have to speak.’’

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