The Feast of Lupercal – Brian Moore (1958)

My second read for Cathy’s Brian Moore centenary read-a-long was Moore’s 1958 novel The Feast of Lupercal. A rather different novel on the surface from last month’s Brian Moore read, though I can see some repeating themes, it actually reminded me far more of The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne which I read in 2019. Where that novel concerned the celibate, disappointed life of a Catholic woman, this novel concerns a man, a teacher living a fairly narrow kind of life in 1950s Belfast.

Diarmuid Devine is a thirty-seven year old schoolmaster at the Catholic boys school, Ardath college in Belfast. Dev – as he is known to pretty much everyone – teaches English, and a look is all he requires to instil the discipline expected in his classrooms. When that isn’t enough he has no qualms in employing the cane. Outside of school he lives in digs, getting his meals from his landlady – an arrangement he has had for ten years. Having an interest in the theatre he has worked behind the scenes with a local amateur dramatic group, though his huge efforts have been taken for granted and he has had to endure the ignominy of having his name missed off the programme for several years. It’s a small, quiet life, and despite his age Dev has had no experience with woman at all, has never had a girlfriend and has led a life that adhered pretty closely to the principles of the Catholic faith.

“As for girls, well, he had never been a ladies’ man. He was not ugly, no, nor too shy, no, but he never had much luck with girls. It was the education in Ireland, dammit, he had said it many a time. He had been a boarder at this very school, shut off from girls until he was almost a grown man.”

Dev has probably never given much thought to how others may see him. So, it is with some horror that Dev overhears a couple of colleagues discussing him. A conversation in which the other two men acknowledge that Dev would have no idea what it would be like to have feelings for a girl, declaring him to be ‘an old woman.’ For Dev this insight into how other people might see him is profoundly shocking and gives him much to think about.

The revelations of the day therefore are still very much with him that evening when he decides to attend a party given by a teacher friend Tim Heron at his home. During the evening Dev gets talking to an attractive young woman called Una Clarke, a niece of Tim Heron’s who is staying with Tim and his wife until she can begin her nurses training. Una is from Dublin, a Protestant and only twenty years of age. A hint of scandal has followed her to Belfast – rumours that Dev is made aware of that first evening by those who are always quick to judge. It is said that Una was involved with a married man in Dublin, so her mother has sent her to stay with her uncle to get her out of the way until she starts her nursing course. Something about Una captivates Dev right from the start, though what could she possibly ever see in him? Dev leaves the party early. I loved Moore’s observations throughout this novel – here his description of a group of Heron’s relatives at the party.

“Here were the old ones. Tim Heron’s mother and his wife’s father, an aged uncle, a solitary aunt. Five or six unmarried females, elderly, out of things. All of them dressed in their Sunday best, wondering what to do with themselves. For they had so looked forward to this party, and now, as usual, they were not enjoying it. They sat in a stiff oval on the sofas and chairs, trying to think of small useless remarks. Unwanted, even by each other, they were the kind of relatives who must be invited to every function because, being the least noticed, they were the quickest to take offence.”

The college Dean: Father McSwiney asks Dev to help put on a play to help raise funds for charity. After running into Una again in a coffee shop and following some discussion with other members of the theatrical group it is agreed that Una – despite having no experience of performing – can audition for one of the roles in the upcoming play. Dev soon finds himself in the position of having to coach Una for the part – and so the two begin to spend a lot of time together. Una is really not going to be suitable for the role, yet the two enjoy their rehearsal time together and a friendship soon develops – with Dev wondering if this new friendship could ever be anything more. Una even confides in Dev – telling him something about what happened in Dublin, though the unworldly Dev has no idea what to do with Una’s revelation and makes certain assumptions that only helps to confuse the issue later.

Dev is conscious of how much older than Una he is – he wants her to look on him as a possible suitor/husband – and decides to change himself for the better so she might look on him with favour. He shaves off his moustache and buys a new suit of clothes. The scene in the tailor’s shop is beautifully and amusingly rendered – with poor Dev obviously clueless about fashion.

Needless to say, it isn’t long before the whispering starts. Una’s uncle Tim is desperate that no scandal should attach itself to Una while she is under his roof. Moore manages to make this community in Belfast seem as insular as a small village – rumours are passed along swiftly, when tensions between Tim Heron and Dev threaten to get out of control it would seem that everyone knows about it. In this Catholic environment of the 1950s any whiff of scandal or impropriety can completely ruin someone.

Moore perfectly captures the sadness of a wasted life – beautifully written and compelling The Feast of Lupercal assures me that I should read more Brian Moore this centenary year – and I’m sure I will.