Lazy Days at Lahinch
By G.A. Finn
Sleeping Bear Press, 2002
ISBN: 1-58536-080-5 $18.95
There is Zeelya, the Bosnian refugee, "still
effervescing," as she turns the village upside down
during one of those charity last dance raffles, innocent
enough until…
There is the parish priest's housekeeper who
chooses "subtle and more effective ways of achieving
the desired objectives."
There is the short-hitting "tall, gangly lad" who so
wants a new driver for his 17th birthday but instead
gets a bicycle, and in turn salves a marital spat and
still manages to take the Captain's Prize.
And, then, there is the old codger pro who never
forgets a swing and thus foils a most nefarious deed.
Every one of these provincial characters, and
many others are imbued with that uniquely Irish stew
of wisdom, fatalism, humor and pluck (excepting the
Bosnian "Bombshell," for whom there are no limits and
self-deprecation is not an option). The author's
masterfully light touch make them all exceptional
company.
A rare thing in golf fiction, there is not a range
ball in this box of literary Titleists. To be fair, Lahinch
is one of my favorite places, just up from the scenic
cliffs and Spanish Point, a lovely little 9-holer
where green fees are stuffed inside a metal box.
The idyllic natural scenery, of course, masks
reality's undertow. There is conflict and hardship that
the visitor never sees or considers, aside from the
occasional trailer park hard by the golf course. Such
bad travelers, in such a hurry, we wander from one
course to another as if working our way through a
laundry list. Focus becomes blurred, observations
narrow. Lahinch can no more be done in a day than
the Louvre. The great links, especially, take time to
savor. If Jones stood with his first impression, after
picking up on the Old Course, who knows what might
have happened.
These escapades described with tight and
judicious English, bring the desired result, a wistful
sigh or a wry smile. They also slow the breathing and
make one envious for a place, that may not exist,
where golf and life meet, a gentler time and a gentler
game. As in negotiating links golf, where convention is
often useless and the possibilities for peril and
redemption infinite, Finn's characters rely on their
wit(s) and a creative sense of invention in tackling life's
hazards.
Often with Fate's intervention, the putts fall,
Conflict finds resolution, women rule the roost, and
the drink tastes so much nicer when the other man
reaches for his wallet. Life, as the author notes, goes
on apace.
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