At 67, bestselling Irish author Maeve Binchy looks back on a mostly happy life.
KEY POINTS:
"My mother was a big, handsome woman, with a laugh you could hear across the town, whereas my father was a quiet, shy barrister. But they got on enormously well, and gave me everything I ever wanted.
"My mother was different from other mothers. She had no interest in housework, but could do all kinds of other things, from taking a bone out of your throat to cleaning out a turkey. More importantly, she could talk to everyone. Shopkeepers in County Dublin, where we lived, would draw up a chair for her, and she'd sit smoking - and sharing - her cigarettes and ask about the families of everyone who worked there. People felt they could tell her anything and not be judged. She hadn't had a great home life herself, but her children knew that she loved us all, equally and separately.
"At Christmas and weekends, our house was filled with people who might be lonely. When we protested, which we sometimes did, she pointed out we had a grand time, and that was the end of it. She died at 57 and it took years - literally - for it to sink in. My father died at 61, and the only place I remember being unhappy was at a flat in Dublin, the year he died, and before I met Gordon.
"Our family home was 10 miles from Dublin City where we all went to university and then to work. Ten miles is near enough to live at home, and a little too near to get a flat unless there was some bad feeling. And there was no bad feeling.
"I was the eldest; the big, bossy, older sister, full of enthusiasms, mad fantasies, desperate urges to be famous and anxious to be a saint. Even though I was fat and hopeless at games, I was happy and confident, because my parents thought I was wonderful. That feeling that you're as fine as anyone else was a gift far greater than beauty or riches.
"My mother hoped I'd meet a doctor or barrister but I think I was a bit loud to make a nice professional wife, and anyway, I was too keen on spending holidays in far flung places (a kibbutz in Israel, summer camps in the States) to meet any of these people. I wrote long rambling letters home, from these trips, editing out bits they didn't need to know (such as falling in love with unsuitable foreigners) and my parents sent them to a newspaper, which is how I became a journalist, writing for the Irish Times.
"I was nervous I wouldn't find as happy a marriage as my parents had, but when I was 32, I met Gordon, a children's author, and suddenly everything was all right. Here was someone honest and truthful and funny, who'd never bore me. I couldn't believe my good fortune. I was 37 when we married and from the very beginning, it's been great. Earlier this year we celebrated our 30th wedding anniversary. We could have gone to any fancy restaurant but we decided to dress up, have a roast chicken and really nice wine at home, and watch Bette Davis in Now Voyager. Perfect.
"We did want children and were disappointed it didn't happen but friends and relations have been very generous and lent us theirs, so we have virtual grandchildren as well.
"Every five or six weeks, we go to our house in London but our main home is in Dalkey, the suburb where I grew up, in a house bought with the proceeds from my first novel, Light a Penny Candle. My sisters and brother live within half-a-mile, and we're the closest of friends. I think our parents would be shocked to know we're all within a few hundred yards of where we grew up. We used to think it was the back of beyond and were always trying to get away. But why leave a good place?
"Some years ago, Gordon and I added a large studio with sea views, where we work at a big long desk. Americans have a phrase: 'Is this your final home?' I would love this house to be our final home.
"I think it's a great blessing that I don't have the kind of job from which I have to retire. I love telling stories and as long as people want to read them, I'll keep at it. But I haven't the energy to promote the books any more as I find travelling very tiring.
"Ten years ago I had a hip replacement which was like a miracle, because I have no more pain there at all. But sadly I have a poor sort of a heart. Sometimes when the heart isn't beating properly, the lungs get flooded and I can't breathe. But it's all under control so I don't talk about health very much.
"Because my stories often have courageous characters who sort out their problems, I think people - wrongly - think I'm wise, too. I'm not really - it's much easier to write about wisdom than to practise it! Sometimes people write and tell me they're in love with guys who won't change, and wonder do I think they should hang in there. I usually say that if they have to ask me, I think the answer is no. The most moving letter I received was from a woman who was reading one of my books to her dying mother and the mother told her to hurry up and read faster because she wanted to know the end...
"People often ask which of my books is my favourite - it's usually the most recent because it's fresh in your mind. I'm delighted people seem to enjoy my latest, Whitethorn Woods, which tries to show how Ireland has changed recently. It's about a well in the woods, where generations have come to pray or make wishes, which is threatened by the building of a new motorway. There are holy wells all over Ireland. There's one in Lisdoonvarna, County Clare and people really think St Brigid will help them if they pray there.
"My personal view is that it's not likely or indeed possible, but then, if it brings people ease and peace, then why not leave them with their beliefs?"
- Detours, HoS
