Walking With Ghosts: A Memoir By Gabriel Byrne
I really tried to get into the book, but after some chapters I had to give up. There were so many mundane stories, and although the writing was beautiful I still felt like I was wasting my time Paperback Not just an actor—this Byrne guy can write!
Now I REALLY love this guy, because not only does he make my screen-watching self happy, but he tickles my book bones, too. I was basically obsessed with him in the series In Treatment (let me be a voyeur at a shrink appointment, and I’m in heaven). The guy can act! And now I see he can write his tootsies off, too.
This memoir is lyrical with a capital L. The book is so poetic, and Byrne seems to be having so much fun putting words together (magnificently), I wonder if he secretly likes writing more than acting. He does talk about being an introvert, which seems like an unusual characteristic for an actor; more a trait for a writer.
Even though I give this book 4 stars wholeheartedly, I wasn’t sure I would like this one when I started. Byrne was describing nature and I wanted his STORY, not a soliloquy about striated leaves. Honestly, I thought I was in trouble. I realized his life stories were going to be descriptive, which often dulls my senses. I guess I usually prefer a conversational tone in memoirs, and that was not what was happening here. But once I got used to the style (which happened really early on), I was pulled in hard. I highlighted a lot. The writing seemed emotional, despite the fact that the descriptive style creates a certain distance, a certain detachment. It was sort of a push-pull kind of thing.
I’m always a fan of going into a book blind, so I’m not going to give details. I will say he had some heavy stuff happen to him. Because of my crush, I gobbled up every tidbit he fed me, and I finished with a bigger crush than I started with. He is so introspective, which I love, and his story is intense and full of wisdom. I liked that he came from a big working-class family in Ireland (a nice rags-to-riches story), and I liked that he doesn’t seem to be affected by fame; for example, there is no name-dropping to speak of. The book is heavy on Catholicism, which might seem funny since Google told me he is now an atheist. Given some of his memories, there absolutely had to be church talk, but still, it was a little too much in spots. (Lapsed Catholics whom I know tend to talk about their religious childhoods a lot, so I forgive him. Big of me, huh?)
What was missing for me was any mention of a love life. (Doesn’t everyone with a crush want to hear about that?) Google told me he is very private, and man is that true when it comes to women. He did mention an early girlfriend, but that was it. I guess he wants to respect the privacy of his friends and family, and that’s cool. Google also told me he is married with a kid. That’s also okay with this crazed fan; I want to think of him as having company so he’s not all lonely, lol—because in his story he is lonely quite a bit.
This book jumps around, so if you like your stories linear, this book might not be for you. I didn’t mind the jumpy-jumps, but I do wish he jumped more often into his Hollywood days—his childhood took center stage.
I wish I didn’t insist on being an audio virgin, because everyone says that the audio version is fabulous—especially since he reads it himself! God do I love his Irish accent! (If anyone could make me lose my audio virginity, it would be Mr. Byrne.)
I don’t think you have to be a fan of Byrne’s acting to like this memoir. He’s such a good storyteller! I stayed riveted the whole time, and I loved picking the book up.
Thanks to NetGalley for the advance copy.
Paperback I begin to apply my makeup. My mask. Our tragedy, O'Neill said, is that we are haunted not just by the masks others wear but by the masks we wear ourselves. We all act all the time. Life makes us necessary deceivers. Except maybe when we are alone.
From all biographies I read so far, I think this is the one that resonated with me on almost all levels. It touched me in a way I did not expect.
First of all, the writing: it reminded me of Robert R. McCammon' Boy's Life. The same beautiful, warm, onest and sometimes heartbreaking writing, told by a mature man through the eyes of his younger self. You cannot but be immersed completely into the story of this Irish child. His tales, mischiefs, small joys and tragedies makes the reader live his life too. Some are told through the eyes of his mother, father, different neighbours or random acquaintances, intertwined with bits and pieces from behind the scene, some hilarious, some sad, some life changing.
I don't want to spoil the pleasure of reading it by giving more details. It's one of those small books which make you savour every word, even if some are heartbreaking.
If this was not ghostwritten (it doesn't seem to be, but I'm no expert), then Gabriel Byrne has another great talent beside acting; he's a born storyteller. Wholeheartedly recommended.
>>> ARC received thanks to Grove Atlantic / Grove Press via NetGalley <<<
PS: I learned about the book from the interview below. It was love at first sight, and an instant entry in TBR. Lucky me to find it on NetGalley.
https://www.theguardian.com/film/2020...
Some quotes to reread from time to time:
Paperback
’How many times have I returned in my dreams to this hill. It is always summer as I look out over the gold and green fields, ditches foaming with hawthorn and lilac, river glinting under the sun like a blade. When I was young, I found sanctuary here and the memory of it deep in my soul ever after has brought me comfort. Once I believed it would never change, but that was before I came to know that all things must. It’s a car park now, a sightseers panorama.’
Byrne grew up in an Irish Catholic family in Dublin, and as a young man was enticed by the idea of the priesthood, the adventures seen through the slides of missionaries in faraway places lured him in, and soon ’began to hear God.’ The church booklets urging him ’to answer the call to the priesthood, and so he followed that for a time - until a priest’s unwanted attentions to him convinced him otherwise.
’I wondered if I could climb into the wounds of Jesus for shelter, hide in there behind black-red blood.’
When I requested a copy of this, I had no idea who this author was, and didn't realize he was an actor. I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen anything he’s been in, but didn’t recognize him from the photograph on the cover. Based on my friend Elyse’s review, and then reading that he was originally from the fringes of Dublin, I requested it, and was granted a copy. Before I began reading it, I noticed it was already published, so I added the audible version, as well. Reading and listening to this, highlighting passages, and just loving the many moments when the lyrical prose just swept me away. There’s so much honest reflection on his past, some of it painful, some enlightening, and much that is lovely.
'On the road to the boat, the fog felt like a wall I passed through, as if from my old self to a newer one, and just beyond the golf club, having blindly inched our way, it cleared. Lights lined the coast from Howth all the way to Wexford. Gulls screamed in the wind.'
’And I stand an intruder in my own past. I think of our life there, all the days and all the nights since. The weeks, the months, the years. I think of time and how it passes. It was winter, New York. I was an exile emigrant and immigrant, belonging everywhere and nowhere at all. Home is where the heart is but the heart itself had no home.’
A lovely, if sometimes melancholy, powerfully raw memoir that unveils his life through a raw, beautifully poetic sharing of his reminiscences through his past, and sharing the ghosts of his past that remain.
’I carry that day like a photograph in my heart.’
This memoir is one that will remain, like a photograph, in my heart.
Published: 12 January 2021
Many thanks for the ARC provided by Grove Atlantic / Grove Press Paperback I enjoyed reading this memoir. I read it in one sitting – it was 196 pages, so it was on the short side. One of my fave movies is 'The Usual Suspects' in which he starred alongside Kevin Spacey. I appreciated his candor regarding stage fright and alcoholism… It was sad to read about his sister who suffered from, I think, schizophrenia. And he gave an interesting account of his life growing up. Not all peaches and cream to be sure. His parents came across as loving.
Several fellow authors on the back cover extolling this book: Colum McCann, Lily King, Colin Barrett, and Richard Ford.
Another one of those books where if it wasn’t for Goodreads, I probably would not have been aware of this very fine book.
Reviews:
• https://www.theguardian.com/books/202...
• https://www.nytimes.com/2021/01/07/bo...
• https://www.bookreporter.com/reviews/...
Paperback
When award-winning actor, producer and international icon Gabriel Byrne was a young boy, his grandmother brought him to the cinema for the first time. There, Byrne fell in love with the transporting power of the big screen. Growing up in 1950s and 60s Dublin within a family of eight, Byrne's formative childhood years were both carefree and challenging, spent between home, the church, school, and the streets of his ever-changing city where he observed that some of the greatest actors and entertainers could be found in the lives of those around him. In captivating, funny, and sensual prose that brings to life the myriad voices of his youth, Byrne recounts his first formative 12 years--morning routines with his father, a barrel-maker at the Guinness factory; his debut role in a nativity play; his relationship with his dynamic mother; and his years at a seminary where he studied to be a priest. Interspersed throughout this engrossing childhood story we see Byrne's ascent to global stardom, from his days acting in amateur drama groups in London, to his first big role opposite Richard Burton, his arrival at the Cannes stage for his breakout hit movie, The Usual Suspects, to the HBO show In Treatment for which he won a Golden Globe.
Combining the cinematic power of Fellini's Amarcord with the poignance of John McGahern's writing, Walking with Ghosts is both a moving exploration of the pathos in what it means to be famous and a singular account of Irish boyhood. Walking With Ghosts: A Memoir
Who would have thought that next to being a very good actor and a very handsome man, Gabriel Byrne would also be a very good writer? Not to mention an absolutely terrific narrator of his own memoir. And I’m not only talking about his lovely Irish brogue; he possesses such a wide range of voices, tones and accents - an excellent impersonator in the best sense of the word!
I don’t know which of these traits is the most valuable but I do know that the four of them together make for an irresistible combination. What I truly appreciated in his heartfelt and flowing writing was how unpretentious he is. For a star of his caliber who’s been in the limelight of show business for the best part of his adult life, he’s surprisingly NOT full of himself; he is simply himself. And as engaging as his storytelling is that’s more than enough.
This is not a detailed account of a career or a glamorous existence. He’s always been modest and private; very few stories (if none) circulate about him. It is a sentimental journey into the world of his childhood and adolescence. It’s the Ireland of the 50s and 60s where he meets with the ghosts of the book’s title. His own, very personal ghosts: his parents, siblings, childhood buddies, his teachers and the shop owners of his street, his first girlfriend, the old lady whose stories raised the hair on his neck but kept him going back for more. Irish ghosts, beloved ghosts and other, more tormenting and innermost ghosts: his battle with alcoholism and depression, his fears, his (very Catholic) guilt, his stage-fright, his self-alienation.
Yet his is not a depressing story. For every sad memory there is an amusing incident to counterbalance the tone of the narrative, often in the recounting of the one and same event. So many sides, so many ways to remember things, depending on the mood of the moment. Now in his early 70s, Mr Byrne, seemingly reconciled with his demons and at peace with himself, has earned the right to do just that: narrate his own story in whatever manner he thinks best. It doesn’t come cheap; but it’s a blessing to have managed to stand on your feet and keep on walking, not because you chose the easy, ghost-free way (he didn’t) but because you found a way to turn your ghosts into companions for life.
The solitary walk from the dressing room, down the stairs, to the stage, is a journey nobody can make for you. The huge speech in Act One. I know it backward. Yet I stumble on the second paragraph and panic, cursing the syntax of Eugene O’Neill, his repetitions, those long breathless sentences and fractured rhythms. This is one of the most difficult roles in one of his most difficult plays. Long Day’s Journey Into Night. The portrait of a ruined man clinging to the delusion of his past. I tried to find him in myself. I’ve buried myself into words and actions of O’Neill’s creation. The clock ticks. My breath comes shallow and fast. I began weeks ago, mumbling from the script as I moved around rehearsal space, self conscious, embarrassed before my fellow actors and the director. What do they think?
That I’m ill suited to this complex character. A casting mistake. Why do I find it so difficult to meet their eyes? Uncomfortable standing or moving, my voice was high and false when I spoke. I blushed when the director stopped me mid-speech. I surrendered to his authority hoping he would lead me to the hidden path. Sealed off in a windowless room I dared to take risks, to free myself from judgment.
Battle with doubt and fear of failure. Marry movement to emotion, be brave, be still, trust yourself. The Sisyphean pushing of a rock up a hill, slowly gaining confidence, plunging again into confusion. I cannot escape myself, yet I know this character only in relation to myself. I must dredge up the emotion from the well of my past. The truth is I don’t know what acting is… Where it comes from… Why it comes to one and not another…
Paperback Audiobook.... read by Gabriel
“Make no mistake about it: ‘Walking With Ghosts’ is a masterpiece. A book that will wring out our tired hearts. It is by turns, poetic, moving, and very funny. You will find it on the shelf alongside other great Irish memoirs including those by Frank McCourt, Nuala O’Faolain, and Edna O’Brian”.
—Colum McCann
I started listening to this audiobook while hiking a quiet hilly trail.....a warm - summer—crystal clear blue sky day in ‘January’.
The beauty of Gabriel’s words were scrumptious.... a wonderful fitting-companion- matching my own mood—filling me with nature’s nourishment.
His ‘sharing’ - ‘reflecting’ - ‘ storytelling’....was intricately detailed... like a great photograph.
Stunning beauty illuminates Gabriel’s life — boyhood, family, imagination, emotions, nature....
with multiple layers of both splendor and affliction.
I lost myself in his honesty, grief, humbleness, passions, romance, love, ....,
It was a birds of paradise experience.
I think I’ll have a “lay-down” now. ( like Gabriel’s beautiful mother often did). Paperback I carry that day like a photograph in my heart.
Almost every sentence or story in this memoir is quotable. Gabriel Byrne is yet another Irish poet and born storyteller. Are these talents in their genes? The water? Does it come from a collective history? I sat down yesterday to listen to a bit of this memoir and became so enthralled by Byrne’s poetically written stories that I could not stop listening. His Irish accent didn’t hurt either. I finished it in one day.
This is essentially a book of stories about Byrne's life. Childhood, family, community and religion, career and more. The stories are not presented in a linear fashion. This kind of jumping around can sometimes distract me, but not this time. Some of the stories are hysterically funny, others heartbreakingly sad. All are very poignant. There is nothing in this memoir which is not going to move you emotionally one way or another.
Try not to read the blurb or any reviews which tell the facts of Byrnes’ life. Let Byrne tell you about his life. Here are a couple stories/excerpts which do not give away much about his life but give you a taste of this memoir:
A funny story (not verbatim):
He's staying in a hotel in Los Angeles on his first visit to the city. It's a very warm day and he's boiling hot in his room. He calls downstairs and asks if they could bring a fan to his room. He waits a long time. Nothing happens. He calls downstairs again and the woman explains that she asked all around the hotel if anyone was a fan of Gabriel Byrne and she couldn't find one.
An adult Byrne is standing outside the house in which he grew up and is given short shrift by the current owner: ”I stand an intruder in my own past.”
Byrne tells his readers/listeners that he is an introvert and hides behind masks most of the time. He struggles with being honest and authentic. “Taking off (my) mask is (my) greatest wish, but it is (my) greatest fear to be seen.” This memoir seems like a very honest and humble accounting of Byrne's life. Paperback He starts his memoir with a then and now look at the Dublin neighborhood in which he had spent his youth. His Catholic schooling, Christian Brothers, his first Communion with all the pagentry, pomp, and hidden cruelties. I found relate to both, the neighborhood I grew up in is much changed and I may have attended Catholic school in the states but much was familiar. There is also some amusing incidents anecdotes. The Dublin he carries will never leave him just as my old neighborhood will not leave me.
In between we learn of various endeavors, failings and his start in acting. Past and future. What is so touching is his total honesty, his openers and self deprecating humor. He makes clear that some of the sadness, griefs in his life will never leave him, he carries this wherever he goes. A man I would love to meet, he never appears arrogant but grateful for the opportunities he has been given. A terrific story and one I wish I had listened to as I've read he is his own narrator. Paperback Home is where the heart is, but the heart itself has no home.”
Many moons ago, on a break from uni, my best friend headed overseas to travel. Ireland was one of the destinations. She asked me what I'd like her to bring back. My immediate reply was “Gabriel Byrne!”. I had quite a crush on him at the time. Such a handsome deevil. There was a movie called Into The West which beguiled me. Amusingly, my wish came true. Yes, she did bring me home Gabriel Byrne. In the form of a paperback. His first bio titled Pictures In My Head. Darn it! I should have been much more specific in my request.
So where has Gabriel Byrne been and what has he been up to since he and I last crossed paths? Well, he’s written this unflinchingly raw memoir in which he looks back, and reminisces on his life, through the eyes of an older man. And walks with the ghosts of his past.
To start with, his writing is utterly poetic. He shows a beautiful turn of phrase. More than once I started to tear up as the way he writes is just so…
I have never loved concrete like I loved a tree…the first stars of evening...the small spitter of rain on a windowpane.”
You can take the boy out of Dublin, but you can’t take Dublin out of the boy.
Even as a lad, we can see his appreciation of nature, of lights and textures. Feelings. He was a keen observer of people which is unusual for such as young ‘un, running around in shorts, collecting milk from a local farm as his Mum distrusted the shop-bought stuff.
”I ran and summersaulted until I was breathless and dizzy. I lay for hours under the upside-down sea of the sky, where the clouds became camels or the face of God.” I love this line. It gave me such a feeling of joy and exuberance to read it.
We revisit the Dublin of his youth. The people and places. His sisters getting all dolled up to go out on a Friday night, people pouring out of pubs at closing time, going to local dances, reeking of Brut (aftershave), time spent with his Dad, learning about nature, the names of trees, wildflowers, birds. These paragraphs where he talked of such special moments were so poignant they hurt.
I carry that day like a photograph in my heart.
Is this not the most beautiful line you have ever read?
We criss-cross in time in this book. We jump from a memory of his childhood, to his being an adult, just starting out in his acting career across the waters. A snippet of his youth, immediately followed by first experience of an earthquake while staying in a hotel in LA (which was quite amusing, people in a mad panic, it’s 4.20am and yet ”Kenny G, weirdly, was still playing on the intercom.” Go Kenny!).
Skip, jump, skip, jump. I actually enjoyed the mesh of timelines, as who are we if not a mix of all that has been, and all that is yet to be? We are all that. Time may well be linear, but we are not. We still exist both in the past as well as in the present. So this stream of consciousness sat really well with me, as my mind goes off on tangents all the time too.
There’s no gossip, nor anything salacious here. No name dropping. No ego.
A mixture of whimsy & maudlin is displayed, as only the Irish can do. Talk of saints, faeries and banshees, are all given equal respect.
My depression, it seems, was often linked to my drinking.
Gabriel Byrne has always felt somewhat of an outsider. At university, he thought he'd be enmeshed in a world of knowledge. That his thirst to learn would be satiated. Instead, he felt talked down to. Made to feel he didn't belong. He may well have been the first one in his family to attend uni, but it brought him no joy. Perhaps only his work in theatre and the movies gave him some access to a truth he was seeking. Through the creative process. Though when fame came it didn't sit well with him, and he eyed it suspiciously. At the Cannes film festival when The Usual Suspects won best film, with the flashbulbs still popping in his eyes and ears, he and the black dog locked themselves in a plush apartment for several days. He was unable to reconcile the sudden interest and adoration from strangers of himself, as a person, with all the doubts and insecurities all of us have.
He's a fascinating dichotomy.
He doesn't shy away from his demons. He neither glorifies nor makes excuses for them. They are simply a part of him, at different points in his life.
There is a quiet humour underlying these vignettes. Some of the book is downright funny. There is also an open sadness. A bittersweet melancholia. There are such deeply personal moments written about here, that you can't help but ponder on your own profound moments. Those that either make or break you. Perhaps both. And that you always carry around. Childhood sexual abuse, plunging into alcoholism, the loss of a dear sister due to mental health issues, the passing of both parents. Friendships that have fallen to the wayside and past loves are remembered. It’s unflinching.
The clock on the wall ticks the seconds away. The seconds become minutes, time relentlessly moving forward, no matter what you think or wish.
Despite all this, his recollections are both thoughtful and soulful. Never bitter. I can well imagine being somewhere, a drink at fingertip’s distance, watching the sun set, sitting back, and listening to him talk. That’s how this biography reads. A friend telling you their story. Sharing their experiences. Looking back on times long past, recalling them as though they'd occurred only yesterday.
How to contain the minutes, the hours, the seconds, to make them last forever?
They say the songs you love when you're young will break your heart when you're old.
PUBLICATION DATE: 12.Jan.2021
Many thanks to NetGalley, the publisher Grove Press and the author Gabriel Byrne for the opportunity to read this advance copy - an uncorrected proof - in exchange for an honest review.
#WalkingWithGhosts #NetGalley #GrovePress
Life can shatter you. It can also be exquisitely beautiful. I started to read this before I had even an inkling that my world would be turned upside down. I was halfway through reading this when our beautiful Mum took ill (a month ago today), and I completed it after we lost her. I simply could not read a word for weeks. It’s also taken me several days to put this review together, as I did not know how I could do so coherently. Everything was too raw. There's so much more I wanted to say, but I didn't know how. This memoir has affected me deeply. In my mind, it will always be intrinsically entwined to this period of my life. I understand Gabriel’s reminisces all too perfectly. Especially the last few pages. They broke me. They are like a stab to the heart, in their tenderness and beauty.
For Mum, I love you to the Moon and back 💖 Paperback
