The Van

The Van is the third and final book in Roddy Doyle's much-acclaimed Barrytown trilogy, a sequence of entertaining books (starting with The Commitments and The Snapper) that focus on the Rabbitte family - a characteristically motley Irish family who live on the outskirts of Dublin. Like the previous book in the trilogy, The Snapper, this novel pretty much focuses on the father of the family, the gruff but loveable Jimmy Rabbitte Sr. Also like The Snapper, reading the other books in the trilogy isn't really required to enjoy this cautionary tale about going into business with a close friend.

The Van introduces us to a post-job Jimmy, reduced to reading library books and mowing the lawn in light of his recent retrenchment. He's had to swallow his pride some, and does his very and most cheerful best in the face of running a large family on welfare. When his best friend, Bimbo, finds himself out of work too he suggests to Jimmy that they get a van and run a fish and chip shop out of it.

Like Doyle's other Barrytown novels, it reads like an engaging conversation with your best mates - time flies and you'll be finished before you know it and then you'll be sorry that it's over. Doyle stretches his use of prose here, breaking even further from his initial all-dialogue style and adding depth to his characters. Jimmy is as entertaining a protagonist as ever, and the supporting cast are very well-rounded too. The Van has a slightly more melancholy touch than Doyle's previous Barrytown books and it can be a bit downbeat at times, but this just makes the laughs in the upbeat parts all the bigger. It's a shame there are no further books featuring the Rabbittes, I was very sad to say goodbye to Jimmy and his family. He really is one of my all-time favourite literary characters.

The Van was shortlisted for the Booker prize, marking a real step towards critical recognition for Doyle and the astonishing good work he was doing in literature. Never has a 'serious' literary work been so entertaining, moving and laugh-out-loud funny and I find it very reassuring to know that so-called 'low' art can sometimes be appreciated for it's value by those who often claim to be in the know about this kind of thing. Go read this book... you'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll laugh.