Brooklyn is captivating and beautifully told. It's a brief and spare account of a young Irish immigrant, Eilis Lacey, making her way alone in Brooklyn after WWII.

I'm becoming a fan of this author. In my frequent complaints about the seemingly requisite shock value featured in too many modern novels, Tóibín's fiction is an example of how to do it right. Few of us are molded by experiences of extreme upheavals, instead becoming fascinating and varied individuals in response to tame and relatively unvaried experiences. We construct our natures over the course of decades, choosing when to be passive, when to struggle, to some extent when to suffer and when to savor and celebrate. You might want to shake Eilis on occasion, when she's more acted upon than acting, but that's likely to be true of those surrounding you, as well.

Tóibín seems to be almost uniquely aware that this evolution of the individual can be subtly and simply and poignantly portrayed. Five stars.