This book is on the NYT “Best 100 books of the 21st century so far”, and the author came highly recommended by my fellow book-clubber. I found it during a summer book browse at a favourite shop in Victoria, and when I needed a break from a longer book, I decided this short one would fill in nicely.
Small Things is a small thing, indeed – at 116 small pages, it is more of a novella or long short story than a novel, but it packs a lot into those few pages. In the days leading up to Christmas, in small Irish town in the mid-80s, we meet Bill Furlong, husband of Eileen and father of five girls. Bill’s coal and fuel business connects him with many in the town and surrounding area, including the nearby convent, school, and home for wayward (i.e. unmarried and pregnant) girls. By accident or providence, Bill becomes witness to and then part of one of the tragedies of the school. Just in time for Christmas, he makes a brave, important and profound choice that will change the lives of many.
The author describes in the afterword how the story reflects the reality of the Magdalen Laundries, the now infamous system of “schools” in Ireland. The story presents a fictional situation in which good people are faced with this reality, anticipating the consequences for all involved; as the system was not stopped until the late 90s, the situation for Furlong and others would not have ended well, but peace over Christmas may have been like a calm before the storm for them all.
Keegan’s writing is exquisite. She captures the grim cold of the winter, the cozy warmth of the family house, and the stark division between the girls and the nuns at the convent – from the unheated coal shed to the sumptuous office of the head mother – as a clear indication of the cruelty and hypocrisy of the system. So much is conveyed in such a short book, it felt bigger than the small thing it is.
Fate: I will read this again some time, and there is room on my shelves for this small thing.
8 – female author
9 – made into a film
13 – set somewhere I’ve never been
25 – new author to me
34 – won a prize
rclr 