Lacey’s assimilation in New York life sets the stage for the central drama of Tóibín’s book — which oddly enough takes place back in Ireland. The history books rarely look at the immigrants who refused to melt in the melting pot, who went back to their native countries to resume their old lives, but these stories are often even more poignant than the sunny accounts of assimilation and upward mobility by successful new arrivals. Will our heroine be one of these American dropouts?
A family tragedy forces Lacey to return home for what she thinks will be a short visit. Yet the longer she stays in Ireland, the more she forgets the life she has been building for herself in the United States. She delays her return trip, and defers making any final choice between staying and going. A decision is forced upon her, and she realizes — perhaps the most painful truth that those who have moved long distances in their life learn from these relocations — that no matter what choice she makes, it will come at a heavy price. Moreover it is always a price that can never be estimated, even years later, since what might have resulted from taking another path inevitably remains a mystery.
In truth, this is the plight of anyone who moves from one country to another. But Tóibín has captured this sense of the tragedy of choice, the loss that accompanies any decisive moment in our lives, better than any author I have read. No, this is not another epic on the immigrant experience, no “Once Upon a Time in America” type of tale. Brooklyn is rather the story behind those larger-than-life accounts, and a reminder that new worlds are constructed only by those brave enough to walk away from the old ones.
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