Binchy is one of the few novelists whose newest books I always make a point to read. She’s classic comfort food–not great literature, but decently-written, heartwarming stories that don’t leave a sticky or soggy aftertaste. One of the best things about her books is that the central characters always change for the better in a believable way. They may be in sad situations, but over the course of the novel they somehow find the courage to grow and overcome their personal flaws a little bit. Love, kindness, and hope are always central. I can make these generalizations because Binchy’s books are not wildly different from each other. It’s not necessarily a problem, but it’s why they are comfort food–you pretty much know what you’re going to get.
Nights is middle-grade Binchy. She’s left the precincts of her native Ireland again, which can be nice for a change (although it’s unintentionally hilarious when she puts Irish idioms in the mouths of supposed Americans, eg having one of them say to another, “Will we do X?” where an American would really say, “Let’s do X.”) There’s a motley assortment of characters whose fates intertwine: four tourists stuck in the small Greek village of Aghia Anna, after a terrible boat accident paralyzes traffic in and out. We have a young woman in love with a jerk, a young man who’s escaping from his smothering family, a woman running away from her lover, and a recently-divorced dad who’s agonizing over relations with his son. They join Andreas, the elderly proprietor of the tavern where they meet, who is alienated from his son, and Vonni, an Irish ex-pat who sees the fix for everyone’s problems but her own.
And that’s the lever that moves all the action: each of the characters can see how silly or blind the others are being, and gently help them react to their own situations differently. The power of friendship is another nice Binchy emphasis. Inevitably, as these random people become friends, they care about each other and we care about them. The satisfactory happy endings come as each person finds the strength to deal with his or her problems, and the reader is left with a feeling of optimism about ordinary human beings. Now that’s my kind of fiction!