The hero of Kevin Barry’s new novel, The Heart in Winter, is a dope-fiend Irishman haphazardly subsisting in the mining town of Butte, Montana, in the 1890s. Tom Rourke has a poor excuse for a job as assistant to a poor excuse for a photographer, and earns drink money by writing letters for illiterate men luring brides from the east. His spare time is spent haunting brothels, racking up debt through his opium habit, and writing songs along the lines of: Ain’t got a dime / But the sun’s gonna shine / Coz we’s all bound for heaven / On the Cal-i-for-nee line. In his own mind, he is “set apart from the hoarse and laughing crowd. He was at a distance of artistic remove from it was what he felt.”
As the book begins, Tom has two fateful meetings, both involving love at first sight. The first is with a palomino horse, “a nervous animal, of golden aura”, which he stumbles upon while coming down from opium at 4am. He’s no horseman, and yet the animal calls to him as if from some foredoomed future: “The horse stilled herself utterly and fixed the lashes of the long stare on his and he was bound.”
