Celibates & Other Lovers (Harvest Book) - Softcover

Keady, Walter

3.71

35 ratings by Goodreads

9780156005715: Celibates & Other Lovers (Harvest Book)

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0156005719 ISBN 13: 9780156005715

Publisher: Mariner Books, 1998

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To save himself from becoming a sinner in the eyes of the Church, Phelim decides to take Father Coyne's advice and join the priesthood, but his friend, Philpot, refuses to believe in carnal sin and lives his life the way he chooses despite any future consequences he may face. Reprint.

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Review:

He wasn't the first Irish boy to hit upon the idea that entering the priesthood would save him from his carnal desire. Philem O'Brien has everything going for him--he's a football player, handsome, in love--except for the one little problem of Catholic hell, a locus for which he felt he was most certainly headed. Love is not the only hell on earth that Philem encounters: family feuds, illiteracy, classism, and racial hatred envelope his small hometown in Ireland after World War II, and the love of his life, Catherine McGrath, refuses to believe that Philem will ultimately choose the church over her charms. Witty, charismatic, and filled with wonderful dialogue, Walter Keady's novel is a delight as well as an insightful exploration of human yearnings.

From the Publisher:

Excerpted from Celibates and Other Lovers: There was nothing else that Phelim could say, especially with Annie May standing there looking daggers at him. I'll be seeing you, he said and turned his back on them. And he resolved as he climbed the wall out onto the road that he would have a long talk in private with Pisspot the first chance he got.

That opportunity presented itself early the following week. He had cycled into Kilmolara to visit an old school friend from his Christian Brothers days who was now a student at Maynooth and was home on holidays like himself. And he was just heading out of town at about eight o'clock with the intention of getting home before dark since he had no flashlamp on his bike when Philpot came roaring into Main Street on his smelly motorcycle. He slowed down and stopped when he saw Phelim.

Well, if it isn't Father O'Brien himself. Removing his goggles and wiping the corners of both eyes with his index fingers.

I thought you were in Galway, Phelim shouted over the roar of the engine.

I came down to see a man about a dog. Pisspot smiled roguishly.

I'd like to talk with you, Phelim shouted.

Philpot looked wary for a second, then grinned. I'd be honored, Father, he said, to be seen talking with a man like yourself. Come on up to Graney's and I'll stand you a drink and we can chat till the cows come home. And without giving Phelim a chance to refuse he revved up the bike and roared slowly up Main Street. Phelim followed. They turned into Glebe and Philpot stopped outside Graney's public house. He turned off the engine and kicked the stand into place. Phelim stood his bike against the curb.

I don't think . . ., he began, but Philpot was already heading in the door. There were several men standing at the bar. They looked curiously at Phelim, in his black suit and Roman collar.

We'll sit in the snug, Father, Philpot whispered loudly, winking at the men. There's more privacy that way.

Phelim was mortally embarrassed. He had been briefly in Gannon's and Mulligan's pubs in Creevagh on occasion, but never to drink. And never had he been inside a snug. If Father Dineen saw him now he'd likely ask him not to come back to Kimmage.

What'll it be, gentlemen? The barman slid back the grill.

Two pints, said Pisspot. You'll have a pint, Father, won't you?

No, no! Phelim was nearing a state of panic. Just a lemonade, thank you.

A lemonade for the priest then, and a pint for myself. Pisspot winked at the barman. We don't want to be getting the clergy drunk now, do we? Who else can stand up in the pulpit and tell us to be sober and sin not? When the grill closed he leaned back and looked speculatively at Phelim. Are you going to give me a sermon? He put his hand up to stop Phelim from responding. It's all right if you do. We all need to be preached at now and again. Some more than others, I'd say. And I probably need a good talking to.

There's a lot of talk about you and Annie May, Phelim said.

There is, I suppose. But I don't know why, to tell you the God's honest truth. We're only two normal human beings doing what God intended us to do. I saw a picture called Annie Get Your Gun up in Galway last week. There's a song in it about a doin what comes naturally, and it struck me that that's all Annie May and myself are doing.

What you're doing is giving scandal, Phelim said firmly.

Ah, sure a bit of kissing and cuddling never did anyone any harm. Philpot opened his arms wide. Maybe the clergy would be better off if they tried it themselves instead of telling people it's wrong. Phelim could feel the anger growing inside him. The grill slid open and a pint of Guinness and a glass of lemonade were handed in. Here's to a good squeeze! Philpot grabbed the Guinness and raised it aloft.

Phelim left his drink untouched. You're giving scandal to the parish, he said.

Philpot's eyes were wide with innocence. You can't be serious, Father! He put down the pint and leaned towards Phelim. Is it me? A lad who wouldn't knowingly hurt a fly. That's a terrible serious charge, you know. If thy right hand scandalize thee, cut it off and cast it from thee. That's what the Gospel says, isn't it? So what part of me do I have to cut off, do you think?

Phelim clutched his lemonade for support against the terrible embarrassment that rolled over him. Why did people always make jokes of such serious matters?

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