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Of the three collections I've read by Munro, I'd say this is arguably the weakest (the other two being Runaway and Open Secrets), but by any other standard, these are still utterly breathtaking stories. I suppose my two critiques would be that (a) this feels like cohesive as a collection in that each story seems only tangentially to tie back to a grander thematic thread; and (b) that there are two or three somewhat unmemorable stories. "Eskimo" and "Circle of Prayer" come to mind. Or rather, don't, and I had to look at the table of contents to recall their titles.

On the other hand, stories like "The Progress of Love," "Fits," "Jesse and Meribeth" and "A Queer Streak" are among the best short pieces of fiction I've read/heard all year, the first one being my personal favorite. Munro has a peculiar way of taking the positively mundane and awarding it a sense of breathtaking profundity, emotional weight, tragedy - meanwhile, those things which are tragic, particularly death here, often happen offstage but seem nevertheless terribly inevitable. Perhaps that's what I'm really trying to get at: the inevitability of life's events, whether they be tedious or irrecoverably wrenching, itself takes on a kind of epic quality. Nothing surprises - and everything surprises. You see I'm at a loss for how to describe this; that, I suppose, is why Munro is the master in this case.

If I were smart, I'd run out and buy every other collection Munro's written and spend the rest of the summer devouring them. I may just do that.