Following his success with Finbar's Hotel, a novel composed of uncredited chapters written by contemporary Irish writers about a seedy Dublin hotel, Bolger has returned to the newly remodeled scene with stories by Irish women writers. I don't know them well enough even to begin to guess who wrote which. It doesn't matter; the idea just tickles me.
Anyway I have devoured the seven stories this week, one I have even reread. They are united by the themes of adult women, many well educated, who deal with family, the ghosts of their past, their uncertain future. Some are almost painfully recognizable within my own sphere of experience.
I am working my way through Name of the Rose. It is an enjoyable but slow read. The Latin gets in the way a bit, so does the Church politics - ouch- Reminds me that the politics exist even today as the speculation about the new Pope and the high profile of Cardinal Law illustrates.
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Whore's Child
I absorbed this book of short stories by Richard Russo, during breakfast this week.
I really began to read short stories of all sorts when I was introduced to them formally in high school and college. D.H. Lawrence, Saki, O. Henry, the masters. I continued because the length was so much more manageable when I got too busy to read longer works. Actually my love of short works goes back to high school. Magazines before the 70s seemed to have a lot of great short fiction. I have strong memories of short stories from American Girl (a Girl Scout publication) and Seventeen magazine in the 60s.
Anyway, I recognize what a difficult form it can be. And Russo does it so well. Generally I do not like to analyze work, I don't try to anticipate what the author is trying to do. I just like to shut up and go along for the ride.
But the stories are so elegantly formed, something to hold up to the light and admire. The sounds, sights, thoughts all resonate with me. And, they seem so intensely personal, so much about himself. Granted a writer, professor, are often characters, but it goes beyond that. The experiences, emotions, are not ones he has imagined but ones he knows firsthand.
I really began to read short stories of all sorts when I was introduced to them formally in high school and college. D.H. Lawrence, Saki, O. Henry, the masters. I continued because the length was so much more manageable when I got too busy to read longer works. Actually my love of short works goes back to high school. Magazines before the 70s seemed to have a lot of great short fiction. I have strong memories of short stories from American Girl (a Girl Scout publication) and Seventeen magazine in the 60s.
Anyway, I recognize what a difficult form it can be. And Russo does it so well. Generally I do not like to analyze work, I don't try to anticipate what the author is trying to do. I just like to shut up and go along for the ride.
But the stories are so elegantly formed, something to hold up to the light and admire. The sounds, sights, thoughts all resonate with me. And, they seem so intensely personal, so much about himself. Granted a writer, professor, are often characters, but it goes beyond that. The experiences, emotions, are not ones he has imagined but ones he knows firsthand.
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