Claire Keegan's "Small Things Like These" is a marvel of concision, a novella that packs the emotional and thematic weight of a much larger work into
Claire Keegan's "Small Things Like These" is a marvel of concision, a novella that packs the emotional and thematic weight of a much larger work into its slender frame. It resonates with the quiet power of a Flannery O'Connor short story, where every word is meticulously chosen, and the setting itself becomes a character, imbued with a palpable sense of history and moral weight.
From the first page, Keegan immerses us in the wintry, working-class town of New Ross, Ireland, in 1985. The biting cold, the rhythmic clatter of coal delivery, the hushed anxieties of a community bound by unspoken rules � all are rendered with an immediacy that feels both intimate and universal. Keegan paints a patina of historical context, a colored glass through which we view Maurice Furlong's daily life. The lingering shadow of the Magdalene Laundries, the unspoken shame, and the quiet resilience of ordinary people are woven into the fabric of the narrative.
Like O'Connor, Keegan excels at revealing the profound within the mundane. Maurice's simple acts of kindness, his quiet observations, and his internal struggles are rendered with a stark, unflinching honesty. There's a moral gravity that permeates the narrative, a sense that even the smallest choices can have profound consequences. The setting, with its stark contrasts between the warmth of family and the chilling secrets hidden in plain sight, amplifies this moral tension.
The novella's brevity is its strength. There's no room for extraneous detail, no wasted words. Every sentence serves a purpose, building a cumulative sense of unease and emotional resonance. The narrative unfolds with a quiet intensity, drawing us deeper into Maurice's inner world and the dark undercurrents of his community.
Keegan's prose is as precise and evocative as a perfectly cut diamond. She captures the nuances of Irish speech, the subtle power dynamics of a small town, and the unspoken emotions that simmer beneath the surface. The novella is a masterclass in economy, demonstrating how much can be achieved with so little.
"Small Things Like These" is not a sprawling epic, but a tightly wound, deeply affecting exploration of conscience and compassion. It’s a gem, a small thing that leaves a lasting impression, much like a perfectly crafted O'Connor story. It is a reminder that even in the darkest of times, small acts of kindness and moral courage can illuminate the human spirit, leaving a lasting, shimmering glow....more
Three short stories set in Myammar, a lesser visited part of South East Asia in contemporary fiction. The only other story I can recall is The Lizard Three short stories set in Myammar, a lesser visited part of South East Asia in contemporary fiction. The only other story I can recall is The Lizard Cage, a long-form fiction. There's a certain gaze of the post-colonial writer, one who grew up in South East Asia, and then went abroad and learnt the canons of western literature; a voice that is forced to balance the richness of folklore and history with the more recent oppressions and poverties of the body and the of the land. This is a book deeply concerned about loss and violence, it is situated in the scars of history and societies, a grayish oppressive place with little hope, but where life finds its own way to go on. There's grace in the titular giving of alms, the openness to compassion and love that people are suprisingly capable of even in the darkest moments -- that narrative belief in the redemptive power of the human soul, to lift beyond the improverished environs and situations.
The stories are jarring and difficult in their unspeakable violence and pain, but readable in their flow and effortless writing. A little predictable in voice and outlook perhaps, but the narrator is sincere in their lack of resolutions and willingness to continue on in the reality of life that somehow goes on....more
Samantha Harvey's "Orbital" isn't a conventional narrative driven by a rising and falling action arc. Instead, it's a meticulously crafted explorationSamantha Harvey's "Orbital" isn't a conventional narrative driven by a rising and falling action arc. Instead, it's a meticulously crafted exploration of stasis, a novel that suspends its readers in the liminal space of an orbital trajectory. Like the International Space Station, the book circles a central point � the fragile, isolated existence of astronauts and the profound, often unsettling, beauty of Earth seen from above.
Harvey's prose mirrors the very nature of an orbit: it is cyclical, introspective, and imbued with a sense of sustained distance. There is no traditional "plot" in the sense of a beginning, middle, and end. Instead, we are presented with a series of vignettes, fragmented thoughts, and sensory details that coalesce into a portrait of life in the void. Each astronaut's perspective is a point in the orbit, a moment of bated breath held in the vastness of space.
The book excels at capturing the unique psychological experience of being suspended in an orbital path. The silence, the weightlessness, the constant awareness of Earth's fragility � these elements create a sense of profound isolation and introspection. The narrative avoids the typical tropes of space thrillers, opting instead for a more contemplative and meditative approach.
The suspense in "Orbital" isn't the heart-pounding, action-packed variety. It's a more subtle, pervasive tension, a constant awareness of the precariousness of their situation. It's the bated breath held as they conduct experiments, as they gaze at the swirling blue planet below, as they navigate the intricate machinery that keeps them alive. It's the quiet fear of the unknown, the realization that they are suspended in a delicate balance, a constant orbit around the ever-present Earth.
Harvey's use of language is exquisite. The descriptions of space, the Earth, and the astronauts' inner lives are rendered with a poetic precision that elevates the novel beyond a simple science fiction narrative. The book's structure, with its shifting perspectives and fragmented narrative, reinforces the sense of an orbital path, a constant circling around the central themes of isolation, beauty, and the human condition.
"Orbital" is not a novel for those seeking a fast-paced, plot-driven experience. It is a book for those who appreciate the power of language, the beauty of introspection, and the profound sense of suspense that can be found in the quiet moments of existence. It is a novel that captures the essence of an orbit: a sustained moment of bated breath, a delicate balance between the known and the unknown, a silent, profound contemplation of the human experience...more
A wonderfully readable and fluently-illustrated graphic novel that warms the hearts.
The unpunctuated title "How to draw a secret" can be read as alterA wonderfully readable and fluently-illustrated graphic novel that warms the hearts.
The unpunctuated title "How to draw a secret" can be read as alternately a questioning lament against an unsurmountable task; or an instructional how-to. This book attempts to do both: The graphic novel paints the context of the family secret that 12-turning-13-year-old Cindy confronts and unravels and her struggle to draw "What family means" for a formal arts competition; but through its narrative, shows us how honesty, bravery and trust in the kindness of others is what exchanges the shadowy secrets and fears to a richer mix of experiences and life.
Narratively, the separation of Cindy's parents is the apparent "secret" that she has to put on the page, and the book offers an answer to that task. But the deeper secret that we all have is our lived experience and our own interior world, a lived experience that is forever locked and unknownable to others. This is the sneaky gnawl of inadequacy while seen as a model child; the snarl of loneliness in a rowdy tangle of siblings and friends; the tingle to feel different while eagerly fitting in. As an adult reader, perhaps that's the deeper question and unsurmountable task that I'm drawn to - what space and avenue is there that is kind enough to hold space and give voice to that secret story that lives in each of us?
Ultimately, I found this a well-executed story, and a beautifully drawn and produced graphic novel. This book belongs well to that literary canon of the autobiographical novel that every author eventually has to write. The settings of California and Taiwan are culturally anchored and relatable, and third-culture-children readers of immigrant families would find particular resonance with the story lines. Readers of the hardcover edition can take additional joy from the artwork on the boards (spoiler: tools required to draw a secret)....more
A friend recommended this fictionalized account of a Japanese writer's travels in Taiwan and her evolving relationship with her Taiwanese translator. A friend recommended this fictionalized account of a Japanese writer's travels in Taiwan and her evolving relationship with her Taiwanese translator. It was an engaging read, and I appreciated the creativity of the fictionalized autobiographical form and the effective use of translations.
This book contains themes of LGBTQ+ relationships, depicting adoring friendships between same-sex characters. However, there are no explicit or direct mentions of same-sex sexual relationships.
The inclusion of translator's notes provides non-intrusive commentary and introduces additional narrative voices. Kudos to the English translation for effectively continuing this layered approach. I can understand why this book won a translation prize; it brilliantly showcases the nuances of language and the fruitful connections that emerge during the translation process.
The novel is generally readable, and the vivid descriptions of food were particularly engaging and inviting from the very beginning. The narrator's voracious appetite is a delight for readers (as the Chinese saying goes, "to have a big appetite is a blessing"). However, the constant focus on food and sights eventually became repetitive and somewhat tedious. I found my interest waning halfway through as the narration began to resemble a laundry list rather than a developing narrative.
Fortunately, the plot regained momentum and broadened in scope as it explored themes of power (particularly within the context of colonialism) and the impossibility of truly equal friendship when power dynamics are imbalanced.
In retrospect, the seemingly self-centered and lengthy narration serves a purpose, foreshadowing the narrator's eventual realization of her own "blind spots" and lack of self-awareness. However, readers may need to persevere through this initial period.
Overall, I believe this would be an interesting historical novel for readers interested in life in Taiwan under Japanese colonial rule, and for those who appreciate works that foreground translation and thoughtfully utilize it as a literary device....more
Jacqueline Harpman's I Who Have Never Known Men is a haunting and unforgettable exploration of humanity in the face of extreme isolation and the unknoJacqueline Harpman's I Who Have Never Known Men is a haunting and unforgettable exploration of humanity in the face of extreme isolation and the unknown. It's a spare, terse novel befitting of the terse world it's set in: a protagonist confined within an underground cage with 39 other women, their only contact with the outside world being the silent, enigmatic guards. Harpman masterfully creates an atmosphere of suspense and mystery, and unravels that into a grand sense of senselessness and despair.
What struck me most about this novel was its profound sense of ambiguity. Harpman offers no easy answers, no pretty tying of the bow leave-home message. As readers, we're left to grapple with the same questions as the protagonist: What is the purpose of the cages? Where is this strange wolrd? What is the meaning of this? How should I live this one singular life that I have? Harpman does a good job setting up a context where the familiar and taken-for-granted is removed, and gives a somewhat blank state to ponder these foundational questions.
The novel's philosophical musings are direct and well-layered, the chronological biographical writing a testament the growth and aging of the protagonist, moving from the youthful insouciance of the need to assert power to the mellow question and acceptance of the meaninglessness and insignificance of life. The protagonist's journey of self-discovery, her struggle to understand her identity and her place in the world, resonated deeply with me.
Harpman's prose is sparse yet evocative, perfectly capturing the protagonist's limited understanding of the world and the gradual expansion of her consciousness. The stark beauty of the desolate landscape the women encounter after their escape further emphasizes their isolation and the profound questions the novel raises about survival, meaning, and the very nature of existence. There's no bloodshed in the book, and scant mention of actual violence. Despite its sci-fi setting, the lived experience is plain and quotidien, an interesting and comforting departure from the usual trope of this genre; leaving the philosophical musings to a somewhat spare, bucolic setting rather than a tense, war-torn one.
I Who Have Never Known Men is not a comfortable read, but it is a deeply rewarding one. It's a novel that stays with you long after you finish it, prompting reflection on the human condition and the enduring power of the human spirit. Highly recommended for readers who appreciate thought-provoking and atmospheric fiction....more
I honestly can't recall what prompted me to pick up this book. It's quite a departure from my usual reading, a work of "living autobiography" that bleI honestly can't recall what prompted me to pick up this book. It's quite a departure from my usual reading, a work of "living autobiography" that blends narrative with a distinct essayistic quality.
Structured as a response to George Orwell's "Why I Write," the book serves as Levy's own introspection on her motivations for writing. It brought to mind those university writing classes where we were constantly asking, "Why is the speaker speaking?"
Levy's prose is powerful and robust, yet also intimate and direct. Her writing truly "cuts close to the bone." I admit I didn't catch all of her literary references, which meant I likely missed some of the deeper context. However, the narrative remained easy to follow. The more narrative sections of the book could almost be read as fiction, and they are often quite eye-opening due to their strong sense of place (South Africa, London) and specific time periods.
There's a lot of writing about the female experience, a topic that I'm not so well-acquainted with and I was drawn to compare her to Rachel Cusk, another contemporary author that centers on the female lived experience. Levy's writing deals more with the systemic, the societal, using the freedom that the autobiographical form affords....more
I thoroughly enjoyed Oliver Burkeman's writing in Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals, and I was equally pleased with this new book.
BurkeI thoroughly enjoyed Oliver Burkeman's writing in Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals, and I was equally pleased with this new book.
Burkeman expands on the philosophy of "cosmic insignificance," which he introduced in his previous work, in this concise volume. I particularly appreciated the book's structure, divided into 28 bite-sized essays spread across four weekly themes:
1. Being Finite: Recognizing our limitations as mortals and how the rhetoric of productivity and the attention economy presents an alluring but unattainable illusion of being able to "do it all." 2. Taking Action: Emphasizing the importance of actually "doing" and the value of bringing something into reality rather than being hindered by our thoughts and fears. 3. Letting Go: Surrendering the notion of control as the ultimate goal and our unsustainable, ego-driven desire to be "perfectly in control." 4. Showing Up: Embracing the present and making the most of each moment.
I adopted a practice of reading one essay per day and jotting down notes, which became a nice contemplative ritual. While the writing occasionally felt uneven, and some anecdotes and reasoning fell flat, I generally found the micro-essays to be accessible and resonant. For those familiar with Stoic philosophy or recent work on mindfulness, resilience, and self-compassion, there might not be a wealth of new content. However, I enjoyed this repackaged material and the book's format, and I continue to appreciate Burkeman's writing....more
As a debut novel, In Memoriam gives voice to a young and promising writer.
This historical novel, set in the time of WWI, centers on 18-19 year old GauAs a debut novel, In Memoriam gives voice to a young and promising writer.
This historical novel, set in the time of WWI, centers on 18-19 year old Gaunt and Ellwood, tracing their path from bourgeois public school to the trenches of war. Through separations and re-unions and time with a cast of schoolmates and soldiers, they grapple with the vocabulary of love for each other while being slowly and jarringly disfigured and hollowed by the horrors of war.
While it has been a while since I picked up a 300+ page book of fiction, this was an engrossing, page-turning read. War gives much materials for plot, and Alice Winn uses it well, pacing the novel confidently, alternating with the dark, macabre carnage and decay of the trenches with the reprieve of billets and the surprising idyllic settings of prisoner-of-war camps. I know very little about WW1 and cannot comment on the veracity of Winn's description, but the author notes point to a honest attempt at factuality. The plotline does stretch at credulity at times, but this is a clearly fictionalized piece of history.
Overall, I found both Gaunt and Ellwood relatable characters, flawed and increasingly broken by war but burning and searching in their affections for each other. The trials of same-sex relationships and the horrors of WW1 are enough foil that gives credence to the purest, kindest kind of love. Of course, this love is scarcely verbalized, we see the shadows of the love through school, where "what boys do together in the dark was only acceptable if obscure. It was unspoken, invisible and crucially: temporary". Then through the tacid approval of loved friends and family, where the person is loved, but there's no naming of love. And through the book, laden with eros and philia and agape, it is only in the ending chapters, that we finally witness the character saying "I love you", once an invitation, once a confirmation. This simple adage, at the end of the novel, does not carry the warm, glowing capaciousness affection we oft associate, but feels more like a tentative head raised over the trenches in no man's land, impossibly vulnerable and doomed, but nevertheless triumphant....more
"The First Rule of Mastery" introduces the concept of Fear of Other People's Opinions (FOPO), a concept that I resonated with. I started off 2025 with"The First Rule of Mastery" introduces the concept of Fear of Other People's Opinions (FOPO), a concept that I resonated with. I started off 2025 with this book, hoping for some insight on finding centering. I've at my sense of self adrift, particularly in recent times, pulled in different directions by the opinions of others as I take on more responsibilities and roles in life.
The book is written in an accessible style, with self-contained chapters, making it a relatively quick read. For people familiar with self-help and positive psychology literature, some of the concepts may feel familiar, but Gervais regroups them through his lens of high-performance psychology (with anecdotes from his own life and his clients).
The book explains FOPO as an anticipatory mechanism comprised of three phases: anticipation, checking, and responding. These mental processes consume considerable energy and represent an inefficient use of cognitive resources. Gervais argues that various aspects of modern culture contribute to this tendency, distorting our innate need for connection and belonging into a maladaptive behavior.
The book offers several practical strategies for mitigating the effects of FOPO:
- Mindfulness: Creating a deliberate pause between stimulus and response. - Building a trusted support network: Cultivating strong relationships with trusted individuals. - Developing a strong sense of self: Aligning actions with core values and a defined purpose.
Overall, the book felt like a collection of related concepts and contemporary research; situating these within the FOPO domain, but fell short of fully synthesizing them into a cohesive whole. While it could serve as a useful reference for various concepts, I didn't find it to be a particularly strong stand-alone read. Personally, I found Gervais's HBR article, "How to Stop Worrying About What Other People Think of You," to be a more concise and coherent summary of his core thesis and recommendations....more
There's something very resonant in Brooks' premise of the book, that there's a deep reward to know another person, "to let them feel valued, heard andThere's something very resonant in Brooks' premise of the book, that there's a deep reward to know another person, "to let them feel valued, heard and understood, {and that is} at the heart of being a good person, the ultimate gift {we} can give to others and {ourselves}".
The reward of human connection is something that has become more present in my life as I grow older, something less quantifiable perhaps than the conventional measures of success that society places, but something that feels genuinely centering and enlarging when experienced. What I really appreciated in this book is Brook's vocabulary for describing this phenomenon, both the reality of how our modern society has relegated the importance of human connection in the face of efficiency and progress, and how to reclaim this intrinsic and natural part of of human life. Particular chapters that I enjoyed include "Life Tasks" (framework for thinking what a person's current phase of life is "tasked" around) and "What is a person" (the thesis that a person is a point-of-ivew, a way of seeing the world based on their own histories and context).
As I've found in other books by Brooks, the premise and framework starts strong, but Brooks lean increasingly heavily into isolated anecdotes and out-there narratives which chips away from the persuasiveness of his thesis. But I do think this book is an easy recommendation, especially for people who are caught in the spinwheel of our achievement culture and have never seen, or lingered on the power of the human connection.
I do wish that Brooks structured this book more as a practical handbook with exercises and to-dos. There's a lot of value in the resonance and awareness this book builds, but human connection takes effort and taking the first step in that journey is not always easy. While the book is peppered with things to do and Brooks' own journey, one doesn't leave concretely with how to implement it in their own lives. Other reviewers have attempted to consolidate and come up with a to-do list though, so I think this is a book that readers do have to do some work to actually plan and do in order to take away more from the book --> this is certainly a to-do item for myself....more
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