Panenka by Rónán Hession review – moments of grace
Rónán Hession’s first novel, 2019’s Leonard and Hungry Paul, won the word-of-mouth success that small publishers dream of, and it hasn’t stopped rolling yet: shortlisted for half a dozen prizes, it recently made the One Dublin One Book choice for people across Hession’s home city to read.
A hard act to follow. Hession’s new novel, Panenka, adopts an amiable, sincere approach that’s similar to his debut, but with a touch of steel at the core. The hero – that word seems apt – is Joseph, a former footballer for Seneca FC living in a rundown part of an unnamed town, “a sort of spare room where all the problems were dumped”. He is 50 but seems older (grandchild, comb-over) and is nicknamed Panenka, after a risky penalty-taking move (straight down the middle) he tried 25 years earlier.
He blames his failure to score in that game not only for his team’s relegation, but for the decline of the whole town: “There are lots of unhappy people here, and it’s a huge relief for them to agree on a single cause of that unhappiness.” Caught in this trap between self-abnegation and self-obsession, it’s little wonder that Joseph suffers from crippling headaches – though his doctor has a more alarming explanation.
Those headaches could provide a narrative driver, but instead the story rattles like a pinball between all those whose lives Joseph touches: daughter, friends, hairdresser and more. What the book loses in focus from this it gains in breadth, with pleasing comic crosstalk between characters, affecting moments of intimacy during a haircut, and spookily well-observed scenes of parent-child interaction.
But a novel is not its subject matter, and it’s the distinctive style which is likely to divide Panenka’s readers. At times it has the simplicity of a fairytale; elsewhere we get awkward aphorisms (“Loneliness is a torch: it can show you things about yourself”) that make it hard to tell whether the guileless voice belongs to the characters or the author.
Similarly, Hession’s conclusion to the story could be seen as a cop-out. But the success of Leonard and Hungry Paul suggests there’s a big appetite for gentler, less dramatic storytelling; and in our current anxious environment, Panenka’s rejection of the grim, in favour of small moments of grace, looks like a bold and successful choice.
• Panenka by Rónán Hession is published by Bluemoose (£15). To support the Guardian, order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.
