Leonard and Hungry Paul is the kind of novel that sneaks up on you—not with plot twists or explosions, but with the gentle insistence that life’s quieter corners are worth lingering in. Rónán Hession has written a story so mild‑mannered and tender that you half expect it to offer you a cup of tea and a biscuit before you begin. There are no murders, no torrid affairs, no spies or mediaeval wars, no unexpected plot twists, yet I found myself drawn into lives that brought me great comfort.
The book follows two friends, Leonard and Hungry Paul, (no explanation as to why he is called ‘Hungry Paul’), who are united by their shared preference for calm over chaos. Leonard writes encyclopaedia entries for a living, which is possibly the most soothing job ever conceived, while Hungry Paul is a part-time postie who drifts through life with the serene energy of a man who has never once raised his voice or lost a sock in the laundry. They are, in short, the heroes we didn’t know we needed: champions of kindness, civility, and board‑game nights that end before 10 p.m.
What makes the novel so amusing is its refusal to be dramatic. Hession treats small moments—awkward dates, family dinners, the politics of amateur letter‑writing competitions—with the same reverence other authors reserve for sword fights or forbidden love. The humour is gentle, observational, and often delightfully odd. You don’t laugh because something outrageous happens; you laugh because you recognise the truth in it.
The real magic lies in how the book celebrates people who don’t usually get celebrated. Leonard and Hungry Paul aren’t quirky in the fashionable, Instagrammable sense. They’re quirky in the “I’d rather stay home and read” sense. They’re introverts who aren’t broken, misfits who aren’t tragic, and adults who haven’t been hardened by the world. Watching them navigate friendship, romance, and the general weirdness of being alive feels like being wrapped in a soft blanket.
By the end, you may find yourself wanting to be a little more like them—kinder, slower, more attentive to the small joys. Or at least you’ll want to call a friend and schedule a board‑game night.
A quietly hilarious, unexpectedly uplifting delight.
Book: Leonard and Hungry Paul
Author: Rónán Hession
