128 pages
English language
Published Dec. 3, 2021 by Grove/Atlantic, Incorporated.
Shortlisted for the 2022 Booker Prize
"A hypnotic and electrifying Irish tale that transcends country, transcends time." —Lily King, New York Times bestselling author of Writers & Lovers
Small Things Like These is award-winning author Claire Keegan's landmark new novel, a tale of one man's courage and a remarkable portrait of love and family
It is 1985 in a small Irish town. During the weeks leading up to Christmas, Bill Furlong, a coal merchant and family man faces into his busiest season. Early one morning, while delivering an order to the local convent, Bill makes a discovery which forces him to confront both his past and the complicit silences of a town controlled by the church.
Already an international bestseller, Small Things Like These is a deeply affecting story of hope, quiet heroism, and empathy from one of our most critically lauded and iconic writers.
A penetrating snapshot of Irish life under the suffocating weight of Catholic dominance. But true moral strength cannot be suppressed, and every small act erodes that edifice. Beautifully crafted.
Novella about a man who grew up the son of an unwed mother in 1940s Ireland. Mainly concerning his inner life as he goes about the daily grind of life, and how something in him changes after some chance encounters at the local nunnery (aka Magdalen Laundry). This one was not for me. The writing was fine, and the topic something I feel strongly about, but I didn’t enjoy this nor did it elicit any strong feelings in me. Found it vaguely tedious.
A couple days of an Irish coal delivery man. This is like an extended short-story, a couple hours read time, but lively and earnest. Although it doesn't go into them, look up the Magdalene Laundries in Ireland before you read; I'm sure the tension I felt was designed.
A quick read but packs a punch.
There's a very old Jewish teaching which says "whoever saves a life, saves an entire world." This gentle and reflective novella, in which nothing much happens and yet lives change, is a version of this, told through the details of the quiet life of a man in an Irish village.
A bit too sickly sweet for my liking, but not a bad book by any means. Maybe if it was longer and delved a bit deeper into its themes I would've liked it more.
A disturbing but interesting novella. Suffice it to say, it seems there is no low to which ancient organizations will not stoop.
Beautiful, incredibly moving book.
Let's be honest: this is a short story.
The piece only has one drawn out character who faces one decision when the decision is made the piece is over. All the other characters are small things: two-dimensional stock, stereotypical. There's no real subplot, he wonders about his father, mother, and his girls but there's no action there.
The first 39 pages establish the character. The next 10 introduce the problem, the "convent". The piece is only 115 pages. The character approaches convent three times and makes his decision on Christmas eve. It’s like a long short story in structure.
This decision was a small thing for him. There's a thread that the character is different because he was raised by a matronly Protestant. He’s portrayed as having Protestant values not Catholic. The book is set in 1985, 15 years after the post Vatican 2 mass was imposed and so when …
Let's be honest: this is a short story.
The piece only has one drawn out character who faces one decision when the decision is made the piece is over. All the other characters are small things: two-dimensional stock, stereotypical. There's no real subplot, he wonders about his father, mother, and his girls but there's no action there.
The first 39 pages establish the character. The next 10 introduce the problem, the "convent". The piece is only 115 pages. The character approaches convent three times and makes his decision on Christmas eve. It’s like a long short story in structure.
This decision was a small thing for him. There's a thread that the character is different because he was raised by a matronly Protestant. He’s portrayed as having Protestant values not Catholic. The book is set in 1985, 15 years after the post Vatican 2 mass was imposed and so when the author incorporates some of that liturgy it falls flat of the mystery, fear, and authority the traditional Latin Mass had. By 1985 the church has a rockstar Pope, who’s also referenced in the piece, and a cupcakes, rainbows, and all dogs go to heaven theology. 1962 would have been a better year, but the county was not a theocracy or hotbed of fundamentalism at point in the last century. The author still tries to overlay the qualities of the pre-VC2 church on this 1985 setting, but falls short.
So going against the Catholic Church for someone with Protestant values in 1985 isn't that hard. There’s no dark night of the soul, just some small things that trouble him. His main concern is his business. He runs the only heating supply business in the village, business has never been better. The Irish Catholics I know wouldn’t go without heat because they disapproved of the personal decisions the owner made. Will his decision hurt his girls socially? The piece infers that they may better immigrating anyway. His fears seem irrational.
A more developed piece would provide (show) an example of someone making a decision that cuts against the church and then paying for it. That way the stakes are legitimately high at least according to the internal logic of the story. To hang it all on a supposedly commonly held perception that the church is an all powerful institution that excels at retribution doesn’t work.
So the end feels predictable what his decision will be on Christmas Eve. There’s no question over right or wrong, but whether to do or to not. Finally, there’s a bit of "The Gift of the Magi,” which feels sentimental in 2022.
I didn't find that the writing vividly or hauntingly described the horror of the Magdalen houses. The piece only gives a male outsider perspective. Contemporary literary writing is often criticized for its lack of passion. This is contemporary literary writing.
I didn’t think the piece was iconoclastic. Any one who had any authority in 1985 is most likely dead. The Magdalen houses closed by 1997. Ireland legalized abortion in 2018. Tearing up this questionably reconstructed historical image of "Catholic Ireland" isn't as "powerful and affecting and very timely" as Sinead O'Connor on SNL tearing up JP2 in 1992. Like O’Connor, a powerful, affecting, and timely piece would speak the truth to the current power on a pressing issue.
Keegan's a qualified writer and an emerging star. I liked her short story in The New Yorker, So Late in the Day, it was one of the best short stories in that magazine this year. This is a nice piece of writing. My main objection is how it is marketed. I don't think it's prize worthy or a novel, but her work will continue to make the rounds.
