If you don’t read Dark Lies the Island then you’ll be missing out on a definitive lesson in the art of short story telling then this is it. This collection will illuminate you.

*****

And so rather reluctantly I’ve come to the end of my journey through Kevin Barry’s new short story collection, Dark Lies the Island (Jonathan Cape), and it’s time to offer up my afterthoughts. If you’ve been following my journey through this collection then I’m sure it’ll come as little surprise to any of you to hear that I loved it.

I said in my forethoughts that although I was excited to be heading into Dark Lies the Island, I was little anxious because I feared, having built such a passion for the short fiction of Kevin Barry over the past couple of years, that my expectations may have been set too high. Fact is, I needn’t have worried because Dark Lies the Island is magnificent. It’s easily as good as Barry’s debut collection There Are Little Kingdoms (The Stinging Fly Press), and in some respects it’s even better.

Before I go on to tell you a little more about my overall impression of Dark Lies the Island, I’d like to present to you a rundown of all of my individual reviews of each story in the collection, with links to each review and ratings. I’ve also provided a brief quote from each individual review, to save you from having to leave this page (I know, I’m all heart and kind consideration ):

• Across the Rooftops – “I loved this story’s subtlety, because it’s more about delicate body language than anything else. I also loved the story’s rooftop setting. Aside from anything else, it made everything feel all the more intimate.” – Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• Wifey Redux – “I loved, loved, loved loved, loved this story. If you’re a Dad (like me), and you have a teenage daughter (like me – I have 2), then this story will really resonate with you.” – Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• Fjord of Killary – “Through reading so many of Kevin Barry’s stories I’ve come to learn that he does two things extraordinarily well – characters and dialogue. Both of these ‘super powers’ are clearly evident in this story. It’s an absolute triumph.” – Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
• A Cruelty – “I adore this story even if it is a little sad overall, and my affection for Donie is such that one would think it were a real person who I knew personally. What a most gifted storyteller Barry is.” – Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
• Beer Trip to Llandudno – “Pacy and energy-filled, ‘Beer Trip to Llandudno’ is one of these stories that warms the heart (with its subject matter), and tickles the soul (through its humour). Classic Kevin Barry. “ – Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• Ernestine and Kit – “Penned with plump descriptions and laced with lashings of humour, ‘Ernestine and Kit’ brings a new and dark activity to the pool of senior pastimes. Brilliant!” – Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
• The Mainland Campaign – “To be honest [this story] didn’t grab me to the same extent as some of Barry’s others have. There are moments of magic (the eclectic flavour of Camden Town is captured beautifully), but overall I found The Mainland Campaign to be a bit flat.” – Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
• Wistful England – “I rather enjoyed this story. It has something of the melancholic mood of a Chekhov tale to it, and as always it’s exquisitely penned.” – Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• Doctor Sot – “I can’t even begin to describe just how charming I found this story to be. The character of Doctor Sot is warm and endearing (oddly, made all the more so by his mild drunkenness) and his gentlemanly charisma just beams off the page.” – Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• The Girls and the Dogs – “Barry is renowned for penning manic, drunken-fuelled tales, and The Girls and the Dogs is a prime example. Completely original for all the right reasons this story is madder than a box of frogs and throughly entertaining.” – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• White Hitachi – “This is an hilarious tale about two brothers who have little choice but to live on the wrong side of the law. It’s got brilliant characters, there are plenty of laughs, and it’s all held together with razor-sharp dialogue.” – Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• Dark Lies the Island – “Barry paints a sense of loneliness and vulnerability in the story’s self-harming main character to such an extraordinary depth that he shows in the space of one short story, just how deftly he can turn his pen to the darker and more affecting side of fiction writing.” – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• Berlin Arkonaplatz – My Lesbian Summer – “This story is full of sexually depraved characters – Bohemian deviants who seek to shock – but despite being crammed with so many strong personalities it didn’t really appeal to me all that much.” – Rating: 3 out of 5 stars

Five star magnificence
You’ll have noticed perhaps that I rated three of the stories in this collection a perfect five, and I do so for good reason. Fjord of Killary is as perfect a short story as I’ve ever read. It’s very much a signature story for Kevin Barry because it embodies all of the qualities and quirks that make him the renowned storyteller that he is. A Cruelty is to be celebrated for its tenderness, as Barry dispenses almost totally with the hilarity, preferring instead to pull at the reader’s heart strings with a tale that’s as emotional as it is charming. And then the humour comes crashing back – albeit in a dark way – in Ernestine and Kit which is a spectacularly entertaining tale about two pensioners who have a very sinister hobby.

And that’s not forget the four stories that were a mere half a mark away from perfect. Wifey Redux which looks at an issue close to every father of a teenage daughter, Doctor Sot in which the reader gets to spend an extraordinary day in the company of a small town alcoholic doctor, and Barry’s brilliant Sunday Times EFG Private Bank Short Story Award winning story, Beer Trip to Llandudno. All demonstrate just how incredibly adept Barry is as a short story writer.

The stories that didn’t click
Although Barry’s descriptions of Camden Town in The Mainland Campaign are exquisite – he captures the ambiance and ethos of the place brilliantly – I found the story to be blander than perhaps a tale about an IRA terrorist should be. Wistful England while totally infusing the mood of melancholy that Barry so clearly wanted to achieve with this story, just felt like it plodded along. And Berlin Arkonaplatz – My Lesbian Summer? Well, I just found it to be plain weird, and not in a good way.

What’s surprising about all three of the stories I didn’t click with in this collection, is that they’re all, for the most part, set outside of Ireland. Sure, the protagonists in these stories are all Irish, but there’s no glow and warmth of Emerald Isle in any of these stories, and perhaps it’s because Barry is so spectacular (not to mention habitual) in capturing his native land in his prose, that these stories feel somewhat lacking. That said, Barry’s masterpiece Beer Trip to Llandudno features a bunch of Liverpudlians in Wales, which is about as un-Irish as it gets, so maybe I’m just waffling. I do however, just get the overall feeling that Dark Lies the Island as a whole, doesn’t feel as Irish as Barry’s first collection. And whether this is a bad thing or not I’m not quite sure.

Barry’s a Romantic at heart
I’ve discussed my favourite stories in this collection, and the ones which I didn’t connect with quite so well, but before I bring these afterthoughts to a close I want to give specific praise to the titular story of this collection, Dark Lies The Island. This is an incredibly powerful tale about a young girl who is alone and desolate and fighting the demons of self-harming. Now, we all know by now just how brilliant Barry is at writing about the drunken brawls and the hilarity inherent in the marginal characters who populate his stories, but in Dark Lies the Island (the story not the collection, should you be getting confused) Barry shows a certain maturity and depth that I’ve never seen before in his short stories. The sense of anxiety and foreboding in this story is palpable, and it’s made all the more atmospheric through Barry’s extraordinary use of environment and weather. There’s a real Romanticism about Dark Lies the Island, and it’s a joy to engage with it (as an aside you might want to read this piece posted by Kevin Barry on The Stinging Fly website. It clearly demonstrates the more romantique side of Kevin Barry).

A short story collection to treasure
So I think I’ve said all I can say about this collection, and I leave you in the hope that during the course of these afterthoughts (and my individual reviews of the collection) I’ve said enough to convince you to rush out and buy a copy of Dark Lies the Island, because just like There Are Little Kingdoms, this is a story collection worth treasuring. During the course of my campaigning to promote the glory of short stories I come across many people who regularly turn their nose up. They consider short stories to be the most inferior form of literature; a form which has no depth, point or entertainment value. To these people I would eagerly thrust a copy of this collection into their hands, because more than many other short story collections, Dark Lies the Island stands as a perfect example of why the short story is the most glorious of literary forms, and why Kevin Barry is one of the most fresh and exciting short story writers alive on our planet today. Mr. Barry, I salute you!

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

Jonathan Cape | 5th April 2012 | £12.99 | PAPERBACK | 199 PP | ISBN: 9780224090582

:: What others have said about Dark Lies the Island::

• “[Kevin Barry's] fluid style escorts the reader through a world that is funny, tragic, relentless, endearing and, well, very similar to this one. His profound understanding of western society is married to dialect-heavy prose to produce a startlingly unique voice.” – Henry Krempels, The Sunday Observer.
• “This is exuberant, risk-taking, exhilarating prose. Don’t be put off by its idiosyncrasies; revel in them. Barry’s reputation is growing by the year, and deservedly so. And unless he’s got a Special Bonus edition of Dark Lies The Island stashed away in the Irish midlands, I don’t think I’ll read a better collection this year.” - Valerie O’Riordan, Bookmunch.
• “Throughout, Barry’s language is intense, precise, given to delightful swerves and with pitch perfect dialogue. Unexpected joy is always close: threat is always closer in these superlative stories.” – The Scotsman.

*****

I may have penned my forethoughts post for Various Authors (The Fiction Desk) close to a year ago now, but don’t let my slow pace in reading through this anthology reflect any unwillingness to read it. My snail’s pace simply comes from me trying to juggle too many balls at the same time. Finally however I have got to the end of Various Authors, and I’m ready to offer up my afterthoughts.

Realising a dream
Just over a year ago Rob Redman was a simple lit reviewer like me, but he harboured a desire to not only write about short fiction, but to become a major source in bringing fresh new stories to the masses. He came up with the idea of publishing a quarterly anthology of new short fiction – titles can be bought individually or as part of a subscription deal – and Various Authors is the realisation of Rob’s dream – the first quarterly anthology to be published under The Fiction Desk brand (at the time of writing, another two anthologies have been published (All These Little Words and The Maginot Line).

Blown away
I’ll say from the outset that the quality of the stories in Various Authors blew me away. I wasn’t quite prepared for the level of reading enjoyment that I got from the anthology, simply because I thought it would take time for this new venture to get up to speed, but it’s clear that The Fiction Desk have set out to impress, and with Various Authors they seem to have succeeded.

Before I go on to speak about this anthology as a whole, I’d like to give you a summary of my individual reviews for each story in Various Authors, together with links to each individual review:

• Two Buses Away by Lynsey May – “I found this opener [to the collection] to be somewhat mundane and largely uneventful. But hold on, isn’t the mood of the average trip to the parent’s house for lunch on a Sunday pretty much like that for most people i.e. mundane and largely uneventful? Absolutely, so May has done a great job in capturing the mood perfectly.” Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
• How to Fall in Love with an Air Hostess by Harvey Marcus – “a thoroughly entertaining story, and it’s one in my reading experience, that’s wholly unique. Good job, that man!” Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• Crannock House by Ben Lyle – “The real triumph of this story isn’t solely based on the success of one character. Rather, it’s Lyle’s sublime treatment of the relationship between one lonely schoolboy and an equally lonely academic that really puts the icing on the cake.” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• Rex by Jon Wallace – “If the rest of Wallace’s stories are as inventive and as humourous as this one, then I swear I’m going to keel over and die. I’ve not laughed so hard while reading a story for a long time.” Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• The Puzzle by Alex Cameron – “I read primarily in order to moved emotionally, and this story certainly hit the mark in that respect.” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• Dave’s Tough Luck by Matthew Licht – “I like the pace of Matthew Licht’s prose. It skips along with speed and a sense of urgency, which is perfect for a story that’s themed around such an energetic activity [drumming].” Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• Assassination Scene by Jason Atkinson – “[This] is one of these tales where not a great deal happens. That said, it captures a precise moment in a person’s life when a key spark is (hopefully) ignited….and in this story Jason manages splendidly, to shine a spotlight on one man’s minor victory.” Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• Celia and Harold by Patrick Whittaker – “A surreal and nonsensical story this may be, but it’s a joy to read. It feels like a Kelly Link meets Blake Butler meets Alex Burrett kind of tale, and it’s just as entertaining.” Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• All I Want by Charles Lambert – “What I like most about All I Want is the sizzling undercurrent of lust and passion which runs through the story. It’s something that lingers without really comes to the surface. As such the overall mood of the story is subtle but tense at the same time. Very clever writing indeed.” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• A Covering of Leaves by Danny Rhodes – “From [a] seed Rhodes has built a story that feels so ‘in memoriam’, not only to the lost souls of a fictional train crash, but to the victims of any disaster that has happened in the real world. The story and the feelings it arouses is quietly magnificent.” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• Sometimes the Only Way Out is In by Ben Cheetham – “One is inclined to think that Cheetham must have transgressed to his boyhood state when writing this story because he really does get into the mind of a ten-year-old. This is longest story of the collection by far, and it’s definitely one of the best in terms of readability and enjoyment.” Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• Nativity by Adrian Stumpp – “I can’t ever remember reading a story on the fears of impending fatherhood, so this is a new one on me. And I think that author Stumpp has treated the subject brilliantly, raising all of the fears and the upheavals that impending fatherhood brings with it.” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

Consistently high standard of story
So that’s a rundown of my individual reviews for each of the stories in Various Authors and you may have noticed how consistently high my individual ratings are. This is rare because in a work that contains stories from so many different authors, it’s difficult to maintain consistency. Such is the varied and fickle nature of most reader’s taste that they will enjoy some stories more than others, and significantly so. It’s almost impossible to produce an anthology where every story is a hit for the reader (the Bristol Short Story Prize anthologies are an exception because the stories in their anthologies – up to this point – remain consistently brilliant throughout), yet The Fiction Desk seem to have succeeded.

Sure, I may not have bestowed a single five-star-rating on any of the stories in this anthology which may make it look inferior, but many have 4 and 4.5 ratings, with the lowest scoring story still coming out with an not too shabby rating of 3 (and in retrospect I may have underscored that one by at least a 1/2 mark). That dear reader, is impressive.

Best of the bunch
So, onto a brief mention of my absolute favourite stories in this anthology. First off I was thoroughly entertained by Jon Wallace’s ludicrous tale, Rex. The story’s like a bizarre sketch from Monty Python, and it’s just as ‘laugh out loud’ hilarious.

Tears of another kind rolled down my face when I read Cheetham’s story, Sometimes the Only Way Out is In by. Ultimately it’s a tragic tale, but I love how profoundly the author gets into the mind of a ten-year-old boy. Although the main character in this one doesn’t have autism (only naivety) it reminds me in part of Mark Haddon’s The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time. I loved that novel for its intimacy and power, and I loved this story in much the same way.

It was back to the surreal and wacky with Patrick Whittaker’s Celia and Harold, which is another story in Various Authors that I enjoyed purely for its entertainment value. Whittaker has a vivid imagination, and his tale brought some lighter relief and balance to the more serious stories in this collection.

With variety comes enrichment and freedom
As for my impressions on the anthology as a whole? Well there is no tying theme and so the stories in Various Authors are wide-ranging and eclectic – a mix of serious and of humourous tales – but I consider this to be a good thing. With variety comes enrichment and a certain sense of freedom, and in Various Authors the stories take the reader from different themes and situations and to different locations around the planet. One minute the reader finds oneself on a bus whizzing around the Glasgow suburbs (Two Buses Away by Lynsey May), and the next, he/she is reclining on the shores of Lake Garda with a glass of vino in hand (All I Want by Charles Lambert). No sooner does one share in the anguish of man who is trapped inside his lifeless body in a nursing home (The Puzzle by Alex Cameron), before one is whisked off to gather ‘tips’ on how to date an air hostess (How to Fall in Love with an Air Hostess by Harvey Marcus). Sure I like the framework of a themed anthology, but I also enjoy story anthologies such as this one where one doesn’t know what the next story may bring or where in the world it’s going to take one.

Keen eye for rooting out quality short fiction
So all in all then I’m really impressed with this debut anthology from this new publisher. It couldn’t have been easy deciding to launch a new publishing venture in this current economic climate however strong the desire, but it looks as though The Fiction Desk not only have a strong vision for success, but they also have a keen eye for rooting out quality short fiction. If the standard of story remains as consistently high as this one in subsequent quarterly anthologies, then short story connoisseurs will be ensured of a reliable new source from which they will be able to feed their passion.

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

The Fiction Desk | 18th April 2011 | £9.99 | PAPERBACK | 192 PP | ISBN: 9780956784308

:: What others have said about Various Authors::

• “I was encouraged enough by what I read in Various Authors to tune in for the next instalment.” – Pauline Masurel, The Short Review
• “A mixed bag. A few of the pieces I found a little underdeveloped or lightweight; several others were very polished and moving.” – Valerie O’ Riordan, Bookmunch
• “This first volume of Various Authors was an absolute delight to navigate, and I eagerly anticipate the second.” – Renee Beauregard Lute, The Review Review

*****

I think I made it quite clear in my forethoughts just how excited I was about reading the latest novel of Niccolò Ammaniti to hit the UK, so much so that I ended that forethoughts post by saying that I feared that I may have set my expectations a little too high. I needn’t have worried because Me and You (Canongate Books) turned out to be everything that I hoped it would be, and more.

Ammaniti’s ‘trademark’ themes present themselves
Dark and moderately disturbing, this latest offering from Ammaniti has crammed within its slender 160 pages, much more than you might expect. All of the recognisable themes that have made Ammaniti the stand out writer that he is, are present. There’s the oddball characters who find themselves in situations that they have difficulty coping with. There’s the coming-of-age theme in which a teenager on the cusp of adulthood is played around with. And there’s also the omnipresent present ‘shock factor’, which raises its head throughout the novel, before reaching fruition in the closing sentences, when a lasting imprint is stamped forcibly on the reader.

The story itself (minor spoilers)
The story itself centres around fourteen-year-old Lorenzo who suffers from some form of autism. His condition makes him socially inept, and in his short life he has managed to distance himself from all but his closest family members.

At primary school Lorenzo’s condition first shows itself in the form of angry and violent outbursts. His emotions boil over when picked upon by others, and knowing this was an unacceptable way to act, he learns to cope by keeping himself as separate from his classmates as much as possible, while trying not to stand out too much.

The situation changes for Lorenzo when he heads off to high school and he realises that he can’t, as he has done up until that point, simply fade into the background. ‘The predators have evolved’ as he puts it, and ‘they move around in herds singling out those who are different’. Taking inspiration from a documentary where insects mimic other insects in order to survive, Lorenzo begins to dress and act like his peers in order to fit in. The tactic works, but as he maintains this persona and becomes more like his peers, he yearns to spend time with them, especially when he overhears a group talking of their plans to go skiing in the Dolomites.

Lorenzo believes he is no different from this group (‘They too were flies pretending to be wasps,’ he says), and despite never being invited, Lorenzo rushes home to tell his Mum that he’s been asked to join the skiing group.

Given the fact that he’s a loner and he’s never been invited to anything, Lorenzo’s mum is understandably delighted, not to mention emotional. Lorenzo realises that he can’t go back on his lie and tell his Mum the truth, so he concocts a plan to hole up in the cellar of the luxury apartment block that he lives in, so he can keep up the pretence to his parents that he’s away on the ski trip.

All seems to go well. Lorenzo with his analytical way of thinking has really thought this one through, but what he doesn’t plan for is an unexpected visitor, and it’s a visitor who has personal traits that will conflict greatly with Lorenzo’s sensivitives.

Quirky characters
Being so short a novel, there’s little more I can reveal without going into spoiler territory, but I will tell you something of the characters to be found in Me and You. Ammaniti is renowned for populating his novels with colourful and quirky characters, and there are plenty to be found in Me and You too. From the socially inept Lorenzo, to his rebellious half-sister Olivia – who provides much of the novel’s shock factor – quirky personalities are abound in this novel. One of my absolute favourites is the underplayed caretaker of the luxury apartments, the ‘Silver Monkey’. He spends much of his time lethargically sweeping the courtyard while fighting off sleepiness; a condition imbued in him following an apartment break-in when gypsies sprayed him with anaesthetic.

The translator succeeds
The biggest fear I had going into this novel – and it was one I expressed most strongly in my forethoughts – was one regarding ‘voice’. With a change in English translator from Ammaniti’s previous novels, I was worried that Kylee Doust would give a completely different voice to Ammaniti, from that of Jonathan Hunt. I’m happy to say that my fears were completely unfounded. Doust has given the English reader of Ammaniti as flawless and as faithful a translation as anything rendered by his previous translator. If anything, Doust has actually sharpened up Ammaniti’s translated prose a little, and that’s something I would never have thought possible.

Summing up
In bringing these afterthoughts to a close, I’ve got to say that I’m delighted with this latest offering from Niccolò Ammaniti. He explores his themes to a depth that one would not expect in a novel of such short length, and no theme more so than that of personal relationship. He has thrilled and entertained me to the same level that he has with all of his novels thus far, and I have no hestitation in recommending Me and You to anyone. For the newcomer to Niccolò Ammaniti, Me and You stands as a fine ‘quick bite’ testament to what this hugely talented author is capable of. I’d even go as far as recommending this novel to anyone who is put off by translated fiction. In the space of a lowly 160 pages, Niccolò Ammaniti shows that foreign fiction can be enjoyable, readable and completely engaging. I await more from this literary genius, with great impatience.

Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars

:: *What others have said about Me and You::

• “This is a powerful novel, which asks us to consider the relationships we have with our own siblings and the memories of our own adolescence” – Emilia Ippolito, The Independent.
• “beautifully captures that time on the cusp of adulthood when our childish view of the world is changed forever” – Kimbofo, Reading Matters.
• “I fail to see where Ammaniti adds anything new to the all-too familiar teen-boy coming of age narrative” – Carley Parsons, Three Percent

*So as not to influence my own impressions, these review summaries are gathered after my review has been written.

Canongate Books | 2nd February 2012 | £10.00 | HARDBACK | 160 PP | ISBN: 9780857861979

*****

The biggest fear I had while penning my forethoughts for this novel, was that Amos Oz’s 2012 Independent Foreign Fiction Prize longlister, Scenes from Village Life (Chatto & Windus) would end up being far too abstract and too puzzling to be enjoyable. It turns out that I was spot on. Scenes from Village Life is somewhat abstract and puzzling (on occassion), but thankfully it’s a heck of a lot more pleasurable (and rewarding), than I expected it to be.

Not really about village life in comptemporary Israel
If one is looking for a straightforward insight into village life in comptemporary Israel, then this isn’t the book to be looking at. Scenes from Village Life does give something of an impression of a nestled desert village, and of its local culture, but this is a novel that runs way deeper, because it’s not about village life per se, it’s more about the characters who inhabit the village (Tel Ilan), and the effects of that village on the inhabitants themselves. More importantly it explores the feelings of loss and longing that haunt the characters who live in Tel Ilan, and how these feelings direct behaviour and inner thoughts as desire drives to seek that which is missed and missing.

Echos of Chekhov
Oz states that Scenes from Village Life originated, like much of his fiction does, from a dream. He wanted to not only write about the village that he saw in his dream, but to also explore the themes of loss, longing and eternal searching.

Consequently, each of the stories in this linterlocking novel contains characters who are at a loss for whatever reason. Oz paints every one of these characters beautifully, and with a depth reaching sublime proportions. There is something wonderfully Chekohovian in the way in which Amos Oz presents his characters, and in the way in which he tells his stories.

In one of my favourite tales, Relations, Dr. Gili Steiner is seeking her nephew Gideon, who is scheduled to stay with her for a while in the village, following illness. He doesn’t arrive on the bus from Tel Aviv and as she wanders around the village considering the possibilites for his absence, Gili begins reflecting on her past relationship with her nephew. It becomes clear that Gili has a real longing for Gideon, and that it’s not just the loss of her nephew that troubles her, but the potential loss of the close relationship that she has with him, too. Does the nephew turn up in the end? Well, I hope that I’m not giving too much away by telling you that the story closes without conclusion, or at least any conclusion in respect to missing teenager’s whereabouts.

Another favourite story is Strangers, in which seventeen-year-old teenager, Kobi Erza (he’s the son of the village grocer, Victor) is trying to figure out the best way to let the village postmistress and librarian Ada Dvash know, that he has a crush on her. Not surprisingly, as is the case with most teenagers in this situation, Kobi outwardly projects his feelings through his behaviour and body language, and Ada – a divorced thirty-year-old – knows fine well, without him saying anything, that the young man has strong feelings for her. Kobi doesn’t know this though and his biggest fear is that she will pity him more than see his advances as a declaration of love. This is not what he wants. As he says himself:

The distance from pity to love was like the distance from the moon reflected in a puddle to the moon itself

It’s quite the predicament to be in, for both of them, and it all leads to an unforgetable climax, which is filled with regret and loss.

No real ending
What quickly becomes apparent when reading Scenes of Village Life – and what might have already become apparent to you in reading these afterthoughts – is that none of the interlocking stories, with the possible exception of one or two, ever reach a conclusion. However, this is no bad thing. Why should every story logically run from A to B and be rounded off with a neatly tied ending? What better way to impress the sense of loss and longing upon a reader, than to allow those feelings to linger, without conclusion?

And Scenes from Village Life certainly does impress a sense of loss and longing on the reader. I always like to feel something on a deeper level whenever I partake in serious literature, and reading Scenes from Village Life I felt as though I really did. And while I can’t interpret all of the allegory and hidden message that may have been entrenched in this novel, I came away with an undeniable feeling of melancholy and empathy for each of the characters, while at the same time experiencing no real sense of closure with regards to anything. These are hugely powerful emotions to come away with when reading a novel of course, and it takes a truly gifted writer to be able to embed those emotions.

A collection of short stories?
Although Scenes from Village Life will be seen by some as being a short story collection, I’d definately say that it’s much more than this. Amos Oz calls this a ‘novel in short stories’ and I tend to agree with the description. The way in which characters intertwine from story to story, makes Scenes from Village Life feel a lot more like a composite whole than most short story collections do. And what’s more, a true understanding of the novel’s major themes can only really be gained from reading the book as a whole. Much would be lost if the reader were to only ‘dip in’ to this book, as one often does when reading a short story collection.

Not as political as one might think
Given Oz’s fervour for political writing, one would be forgiven for thinking that Scenes from a Village Life would be soaked with political message, yet I didn’t feel that it was. Aside from a subtle nod in stories such as Heirs (issues over land ownership), Digging (animosity shown towards an Arab lodger), and Singing (brief mention of the Air Force bombing enemy targets), there is surprisingly little political reference, with the focus remaining mainly on the theme of personal loss and longing, and the eternal search for it.

Breathtaking translation
Fans of foreign fiction do not need me to tell them of the value of a good translation. A foreign novel will often succeed or fail on the quality of its translation, and if the translator has not managed to attune him/herself to the author’s voice or been able to render into a target language an exact interpretation of what the author is trying to say, then the novel at best will turn out to be totally unlike the original, or at worst a most painful and awkward thing to read.

Oz himself says that Hebrew is a ‘very unique musical instrument’ (he likens it to Elizabethan English), and as such it’s impossible to translate. That said, it looks as though Nicholas de Lange has managed to pull off the impossible in Oz’s eyes, and given the English reader a novel which reads as beautifully and as poetically as I’d imagine the original in the vernacular to be.

Something pretty special
In conclusion then I’d have say that Scenes from Village Life is something pretty special. It’s definitely deserving of its Independent Foreign Fiction Prize longlist place, and after reading Scenes from Village Life it’s clear that one is in the presence of a literary master, not least because the writing is of such immense quality.

I will reiterate that I don’t think that Scenes from Village Life is a novel that everyone will enjoy, and those who don’t like short stories or ambiguous endings would be wise to steer clear. For everyone else though – dive in, this book is a real treat, and a rare one at that. There are not that many books out there that have the power to make a reader return in their mind to reflect on a book, but this is one of them. And even as I type these closing comments I still hear the village of Tel Ilan and its occupants calling to me. I can see that it’s going to be a long time before I forget this place.

Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars

:: What others have said about Scenes from Village Life::

• “[Scenes from Village Life] soon lures you in, like taking a walk in a new neighborhood which appears entirely unremarkable until you begin to scratch at its surface” – Mark Staniforth, Eleutherophobia **IFF Shadow Judge**
• “Scenes From Village Life is a brief collection, but its brevity is a testament to its force. You will not soon forget it.” – Claire Messud, New York Times.
• “Scenes From Village Life packs a kind of nauseating punch, as if you’d been smacked hard in the solar plexus and then sent for a ride on a roller coaster.” – Carolyn See, Washington Post
• “Even when the eighth and final piece wrenches us suddenly from Tel Ilan into a scene set in a primitive, possibly post-apocalyptic society, Oz’s respect for human mystery stays with us and richly rewards our attention.” – Dan Vitale, Three Percent

Chatto and Windus | 14th July 2011 | £12.00 | HARDBACK | 272 PP | ISBN: 9780701185503

This book is being read as part of my involvement in 2012 with the ‘shadow jury’ for the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize. To find out more about this, and the judging panel that I’m involved with, please visit my ‘Shadowing the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize’ post.

*****

So I’ve reached the end of my island-hopping journey through Judith Schalansky’s Atlas of Remote Islands, and it’s time to offer up a few afterthoughts on it. You may remember, if you read my forethoughts, that I was quite taken by the book’s beautiful design, but my biggest fear was whether all of the work that had go into the design was only to disguise poor content. Well, I’ll alleviate any fears of this straight away because the content of the book certainly DOES live up to expectation, matching the quality of book’s presentation, perfectly.

Well crafted narrative
I think Schalansky is a fine writer. I was looking forward to her picking me up and taking me around fifty nondescript islands around this planet Earth, but I’d feared that she’d be like one of these monotone museum guides (you know, the ones you sometimes get lumbered with on museum visits. They’re knowledgeable enough but their delivery is just so yawn). Thankfully, Schalansky isn’t anything like that at all. Her narrative is well crafted and fast moving, and she can certainly a whip up a good story – based on fact, allegedly – and present it in an engaging way.

Brings out a spectrum of emotion
Yep, I was thoroughly entertained by Atlas of Remote Islands. I giggled at the life led by the ‘governor’ and his ‘subject’ on Saint Paul Island (well, until the end of the story at least). I wept at the plight of the poor slaves who were left deserted on the island of Tromelin (seven of them got the last laugh though). I took with a pinch of salt the story of Atlasov Island and how it began life as a mountain in the middle of Lake Kurile in Kamchatka, before the other mountains in the area got jealous of it and forced it to find a new home in the sea. And, I was left shocked and shaken by the islanders of Tikopia and their rather horrifying solution to population growth (apparently the island’s natural resources can sustain 1200, and not a single islander more). So a wide range of subjects and a whole spectrum of emotion shown there, by me (not deep emotion, but emotion all the same) so I think I can safely say that I think there’s a little something in Atlas of Remote Islands for everyone.

Over too quickly
As much as I enjoyed Atlas of Remote Islands I do have two minor complaints about it (if you can really call them complaints). Firstly, I managed to whizz through the book is next to no time. That’s good because it shows I enjoyed the book, but you’d think, given that the Atlas of Remote Islands features FIFTY islands, that there would be plenty to keep me reading for a long time. Not so, in actual fact most of the book is made up of eye candy – full page maps, timelines, distance graphs etc. with only half a page of prose being given for each island. Of course it’s definitely a case of writing quality over quantity with this one, but if somebody picks this up expecting it to offer them a substantial reading experience, then they’re going to be a little disappointed.

A bit on the pricey side?
My second minor niggle regards the price. £25 seems rather a lot for a book that only amounts to only 143 pages (including introduction and index). I know this book is beautiful and a lot of work and effort has gone into creating it, but I for one would have to think twice about buying this book to put it on my own bookshelves (I’m reading a library copy. I know, I’m a skinflint )

Flawless translation
Finally, I should give brief mention on the translation of this book by Christine Lo. The translation is invisible, it reads as though originally written in English. The prose is neither awkward at any point, nor ambiguous. And the narrative flows freely. That’s down to a good translator that is, so Lo deserves big credit on this one.

The perfect present
In summing up then I’d have to say that I really liked Atlas of Remote Islands. I know I moaned about the price and the short length of Schalansky’s narrative pieces, but putting this aside this is still a thoroughly enjoyable and entertaining book. I guess it’s one you should think about buying yourself as an indulgent treat, or as a special gift for someone else. If you are thinking of doing that then I can think of no finer choice.

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

:: What others have said about Atlas of Remote Islands::

• “[Atlas of Remote Islands] is an utterly exquisite object.” – Robert Macfarlane, Guardian Books.
• “This is a great coffee table book, perfect for history buffs, dreamers or anyone who sticks pins in their maps and obsessively uses “GTrot” on Facebook.” - Blair H, The Lost Girls.
• “Every single page of The Atlas of Remote Islands is as individual and enchanting as the island it describes.” – Worm, The Dabbler.

Particular Books | 07 October 2010 | £25.00 | HARDBACK | 144 PP | ISBN: 9781846143489

Judith Schalansky will be appearing at the Edinburgh International Book Festival, in a Newton First Book Award event with Alastair Bruce, on Friday 19th 6:45pm – 7:45pm. For ticket information and booking, please visit the event page on the EdBookFest website.

*****

It’s taken me a while getting to the end of Kevin Barry’s debut short story collection, but it’s been a journey that has definitely thrilled and entertained me every step of the way. I began reading There Are Little Kingdoms way back in August of last year, in preparation for his EdBookFest event with Simon Van Booy (you can read my report on that event, HERE). It was, to be honest, my first exposure to the writings of Barry. Originally I only saw it as background reading for the event I was attending but very quickly, as I began to get drawn into Barry’s incredible rich and vivid storytelling world, I began to form a very high opinion of the Limerick-born writer.

Having now finished There Are Little Kingdoms I can state with complete conviction that Kevin Barry has gained a place in my exclusive pool of favourite short story writers, simply because I’ve seldom read anything as rich and character-filled as this collection (and if you think he’s impressive in print then you should see him live).

Before I go on to tell you a little more about the collection (outwith what I’ve already written in my forethoughts post), and discuss some of my favourite stories, I’ll share with you my review summaries and ratings for each of the stories in the There Are Little Kingdoms collection (links lead to my full review for each story):

• Atlantic City – “James [the story's main character] stands on a pedestal as a god among men (and women), and Barry exalts him magnificently” – Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• To the Hills - “a great story…Barry captures mood and moment brilliantly” – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• See The Tree, How Big It’s Grown – “I felt as though this was more of an opening to a novel rather than a standalone short” – Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• Animal Needs – “a quality story from Barry that’s full of wit and humour” – Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• Last Days Of The Buffalo – “I adored this story for the way in which Barry so well-roundedly paints one of his characters” – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• Ideal Homes – “Definitely the best Barry story I’ve read so far. Full marks!” – Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
• The Wintersongs – “this story resonates with the spirit of Maupassant (even though it’s set in Ireland)” – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• Party At Helen’s – “If Kevin Barry has a repository in his head for storing characters then it must look a lot like this story” – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• Breakfast Wine – “Barry expertly brings out little nuances and subtleties in character and surroundings” – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• Burn The Bad Lamp – “I left this story 100% chuckling and 100% satisfied” – Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
• There Are Little Kingdoms – “I adored Barry’s description of town life, but ultimately this story is all a bit bewildering” – Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• Nights At The Gin Palace – “A superbly entertaining tale from Barry, one that’s put me on the verge of dubbing him the Irish Chekhov” – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• The Penguins - “A real treat of a story, even if it does take something of a diversion from the other tales in this collection” – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

So what can I say about the collection as a whole? Well I think I can state without fear of contradiction, that There Are Little Kingdoms is most definitely Irish in flavour. That said, if only Barry’s vision were to be believed, then Ireland consists of nothing more than drunkards and odd characters. And that’s because just as Chekhov often presents his characters in a largely exaggerated and humourous way to overly emphasis the theme/meaning of his stories, Barry specifically engineers overstated characters in order to magnify his observations of the more marginal aspects of Irish life (an area in which he takes obvious enjoyment in exploring). He does so with triumphant effect, and as such most of Barry’s characters are so well-rounded and so fully formed (within the confines of the short story form of course), that his stories could stand as the literary equivalent of the 3D movie.

I kid you not dear reader, Barry’s characters bring so much vibrancy and life to the page, that the book almost feels as though it has a heartbeat of it’s own. So it’s no coincidence perhaps that the stories which stood out most for me in this collection, were the ones which contained the most outrageous characters. Take my favourite story of the collection for instance, Ideal Homes, which follows the exploits of randy teenage twins Donna and Dee as they set out on a night out in their local village. The story is hilarious, not only because of the twins but also because of the kind of rockin’ night than can be had (or rather can’t be), in a sleepy Irish village.

Nights At The Gin Palace is also marked out as an outstanding story for me because this one is as close in style and quality to Chekhov, as anything I’ve ever read from any modern-day writer (regulars at RobAroundBooks know how much I admire and value the Russian master, so you can be sure that this is indeed high praise from me).

Finally I should mention Burn The Bad Lamp because this is another tale for which I awarded full marks, but this time it wasn’t so much about sparkling characters but more about Barry’s sharp humour. If anyone ever asked me which single story they should read in order to gain a real sense of Barry’s level of humour, then this would undoubtedly be the one I’d choose (followed closely by Atlantic City).

To be honest I can’t really praise There Are Little Kingdoms enough, so I’m going to stop trying. But in closing I really want ot say that this collection has depth, it has variety and it is has substance. But most importantly of all There Are Little Kingdoms has consistency. It’s often the case with single author collections that they turn out to be something of a mixed bag. The author mixes in his best stories with a few that are not so hot (I don’t know what the official term is but I like to call them ‘fillers’), and the collection ends up being fairly average. I didn’t really get a sense of this from this collection (with the possible exception of one story – See The Tree, How Big It’s Grown, which felt somewhat incomplete), and that’s an incredibly very rare thing to find. So my suggestion is not to even think about it twice. Pick up a copy of There Are Little Kingdoms at your earliest convenience, and prepare yourself for one of the most entertaining short story collections that you’re ever likely to read.

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

Stinging Fly Press | Oct 2007 | €9.99 | PAPERBACK | 154 PP | ISBN: 9780955015298

:: What others have said about There Are Little Kingdoms::

• “Reading Kevin Barry’s collection is like finding a shiny two-pound coin in a pile of muck. It brings unexpected pleasure.” – Elaine Chiew, The Short Review.
• “it’s George Saunders meets The League of Gentlemen! In Ireland!” - John Self, Asylum.
• “[Barry's] prose are exquisite and highly visual, and the pages teem with human wildlife, briefly captured sentiment and sidelong glance.” – Marc Goldin, Laurahird.com.

*****

This anthology is the product of an annual competition held by quarterly culture magazine, the Bristol Review of Books, in celebration and in promotion of the short story form, and the unpublished authors who pen those stories. I’ve already written a forethoughts post on the Bristol Short Story Prize Anthology 3 so I won’t ramble on giving you any more background information. Instead I’ll dive straight in to my review on this anthology, beginning with a rundown on my reviews for each individual story. Links lead to my full review for each story, but for your convenience (because I’m incredibly thoughtful that way ), I’ve also included a snippet from each review, together with a final rating for each story. If you want to find out more, then just click on a related link. OK, let’s go and please be aware that my afterthoughts on the anthology as a whole continues after these listings:

• ‘Mum’s The Word’ by Valerie O’Riordan – “If you’ve ever considered flash fiction to be an ineffective storytelling vehicle, then you REALLY NEED to read this one.” Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• ‘Only the Sure of Foot’ by Ian Madden – “What I love most about the story though is how well Madden combines his wonderfully engaging storyline – which is quite sorrowful at times – with some beautifully painted descriptions of landscape.” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• ‘Gardening’ by Rachel Howard – “I found the whole reading experience for this one to be somewhat surreal, yet at the same time wholly warming.” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• ‘Man Friday and the Sockball Championships’ by Mike Bonsall – “Despite not really being a fan of anything sci-fi, this story turned out to be not that bad.” Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• ‘Two Girls Under an Apple Tree’ by Kate Brown – “There are some delicate little Dutch references in the story that both add to the feeling of cosmopolitan while giving the subtlest suggestion of ‘fairy tale’. If that’s not enough for you, then the story also comes with a clever little ending. Very enjoyable!” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• ‘Marrakech’ by Darci Bysouth – “I admire Bysouth’s skill in instilling in the reader, a real empathy for the main character. I also adore her genius in twisting things so that the plot brings something entirely unexpected. Bravo to the storyteller!” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• ‘Struthio Camelus’ by Joanna Campbell – “I’m a fan of Campbell’s writing ‘voice’. It has a certain vibrant bounciness to it, which makes it easy and enjoyable to connect with.” Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• ‘Signs of Our Redemption’ by Tara Conklin – “a good story, quite sad but very well written.” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• ‘A Sense of Humour’ by Rik Gammack – “this a clever little story from Gammack, and it’s one that really gets you thinking.” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• ‘Conservation of Angular Momentum’ by Ashley Jacob – “Bath-based Jacob really surprised me with this story. It has no rhyme nor reason yet it stands as a very well-rounded little tale.” Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• ‘Wine at Breakfast’ by Claire King – “one of these stories that begins hazy before the mist gradually clears to reveal a rather shocking story. Such a storytelling technique is difficult to get right in my opinion, but King succeeds with much prowess.” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• ‘The Meek Inherit’ by Natasya Parker – “The reader certainly won’t walk away from this one full of the joys of Spring, but how boring would life be if every story had a Disney ending?” Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• ‘rZr and Napoleon’ by Jonathan Pinnock – “This is a wonderfully inventive story from Pinnock, and one which has a slight tinge of Edgar Allen Poe about it.” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• ‘Spring Tide’ by Marli Roode – “South African-born Roode really has done a remarkable job with this story and aside from providing a few ‘morbid milestones’ as reminders that death can be imminent and sudden, she’s subtly seasons her story with a sense of impending doom, which does nothing but unsettle the reader to an even greater degree.” Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• ‘Born Not Made’ by Rachel Sargeant – “the way in which Germany-based Sargeant describes how music affects the main character is sublime i.e. it [the car's CD player] was giving off a sound like honey, sweet and slow that oozed into Mozza’s head and trickled down to the heart.” Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
• ‘Ten Plastic Roses’ by Yana Stajno – “Stajno possesses a wry and somewhat slapstick sense of humour, and she employs that humour well, making this story pleasurable and entertaining to read.” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• ‘An Experiment’ by Natasha Tripney – “I rather enjoyed this story from this London-based writer, which has something of an element of George Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion to it.” Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• ‘Being Mother’ by Sherri Turner – “This is a great story, cleverly constructed by Cornish-born writer Sherri Turner, which comes with an ending (perhaps middle to ending is a more accurate description) that is so wholly unexpected” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• ‘Bitter Gourd Fruit’ by Ben Walker – “This is a story which has a lot crammed into its short length, and I mean that in a good way, and it’s a story which definitely feels original and fresh” Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• ‘But Then Again, Maybe it is’ by Clare Wallace – ” ‘Saving the best until last’ is an adage that almost rings true here, because this final story in this anthology is certainly one of the best of the bunch. I adored it, simply because it’s so well put together, and it reads so beautifully.” Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars

So dear reader, what’s the first thing you notice about all 20 of these individual short story reviews? Well, probably nothing at first, except that your scrolling finger is aching a little , but if you look closer (if you haven’t already), then you will have seen that ALL of my ratings for these stories remain consistently high. Now, that’s a bit of a rarity that. I don’t know what your reading experience of these things is, but I’ve always found that the quality of stories found in a short story collection/anthology such as this, varies greatly. There is usually a handful of good stories, a lion’s share of average stories, and dare I say it, a couple of rotten apples too. Well, not so with the Bristol Short Story Prize Anthology 3. I found that the quality of the stories remained top-notch throughout, and that’s really only down to one thing – selection i.e. the exquisite taste and quality of the judging panel; those beautiful minds (Bertel Martin, Maia Bristol, Tania Hershman, Helen Hart, Joe Berger) who not only chose the overall winner of the 2010 Bristol Short Story Prize, but the other 19 shortlisted stories included in this anthology too.

And I guess that’s one of the reasons why I’m recommending this anthology for all to read (you do by now know that I’m recommending this anthology to all to read by now, right?), because as a consequence of the judging process that it’s gone through, this is one short story anthology that stands heads and shoulders above the sea of similar publications.

O’Riordan’s a worthy winner aka brevity triumphs
So what of the stories contained within Bristol Short Story Prize Anthology 3? Which ones stood out as outstanding for me, and do I think that the judges were right in choosing Dublin-born Valerie O’Riordan as the overall 2010 winner? I’ll begin with O’Riordan, and say yes, the judges were absolutely spot on in declaring her story to be the winner. Don’t get me wrong, in my opinion at least half of the stories in this anthology could have took the prize, but O’Riordan’s is special, not least because she packs a hell of a punch into a story of incredibly short length. ‘Mum’s The Word’ is a work of flash fiction, the briefest of all story forms, and O’Riordan gives one on the chin to the naysayers who claim that a story can’t really be told in so few words.

The ‘best’ of the rest
So what of the other stories in this anthology? Well, I’m not just saying it but such was their quality that ANY of the other nineteen stories in this anthology could really have taken the top prize. There are, however, some stories which touched me more than others. For instance, Ashley Jacob thoroughly thrilled me with his very unique, and very entertaining tale, `Conservation of Angular Momentum’ . It’s about a guy who quite suddenly and rather unexpectedly finds himself falling through the sky above the City of Bath. It’s a clever story, full of humour, wit and colour, and it’s one that will definitely stick with me.

Another story which will stick with me for completely different reasons is Natasya Parker’s ‘The Meek Inherit’. Poor Mariette lives in the slums of the Haitian capital, Port-au-Prince, and if her life isn’t bad enough to begin with (to illustrate, mud cakes are a staple of her diet), it becomes a whole lot worse during the course of the story. Harrowing and mournful are the only words I can think of to describe this one.

Marli Roode’s ‘Spring Tide’ is also one of the stories which I will remember for a long time to come. What the South African author has given us here, is a contemplation on death and degradation, together with a reminder that we are continually surrounded by these ‘mortal milestones’. It’s powerful stuff and in many ways I felt that I could have been reading something penned by Dostoevsky, albeit with less stiffness and considerably more layers of colour and modernity.

A pleasing layout – ‘clean and uncluttered’
I really should mention how impressed I am with the presentation of the Bristol Short Story Prize Anthology 3. The Bristol Review of Books have used a similar ‘clean and uncluttered’ layout for all of its BSSP anthologies so far, and it’s one that really works. You may have noticed in my individual story reviews that I’ve often added a personal snippet about each author, and that’s thanks to every story in the anthology coming with a brief bio of each author (which is accompanied by a ‘mugshot’ that I’m sure every author unnecessarily cringes at ), which I like because it’s nice to know something of the person behind the pen (especially when the writer up to that point, has remained unpublished).

If you hate short stories then please pick this up
So I hope dear reader that I’ve worked enough to convince you that Bristol Short Story Prize Anthology 3 is one well worth picking up. I was more than pleasantly surprised at the consistently and quality of the stories contained within this anthology, and as such I doubt there will be many of you out there that would be disappointed with the Bristol Review of Books latest offering. I especially urge those who turn their nose up at the short story form – and I know there’s plenty of you out there – to reconsider, and to give this particular anthology a try. I think it may just change your mind.

Before I close these afterthoughts I just want to do one more thing – to pay tribute both to the Bristol Review of Books and the judging panel of the Bristol Short Story Prize. The short story form is sadly under appreciated in this country, and as a consequence it receives much less attention than it deserves. For a short story fan like me this is all hugely dispiriting, but thankfully, through the unfading efforts of Bristol Review of Books and all of those involved with the Bristol Short Story Prize, there’s a corner of the literary world that’s ablaze with love for the short story; where the form is exalted and celebrated and definitely not kept in the shade. This gives me a warm feeling, it makes me smile, and as such I will always be grateful to the Bristol Review of Books and the Bristol Short Story Prize for putting the most deserving of story forms on a pedestal. On behalf of all short story fans around the world, I thank you (I was going to say ‘salute’ but then I would have sounded to much like a gladiator )

Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars

Bristol Review of Books Ltd. | July 2010 | £10.00 | PAPERBACK | 180 PP | ISBN: 9780955955549

:: What others have said about the Bristol Short Story Prize Anthology 3::

• “I would urge anyone who is planning on entering a competition this year to buy, beg, steal, or borrow a copy of this fantastic anthology. Not because it will put you off entering, but because this collection is likely to inspire you.” – A J Kirby, The Short Review.
• “There is some good stuff here, and the book is well worth seeking out.” – David Hebblethwaite, Follow the Thread
• “Overall, I’d agree with other reviews of this anthology. It’s full of some truly beautiful examples of the short story form…” - Tomas Furby, Ramblings of a Bibliophile

*****

OK, I know it’s taken me an absolute age between penning my forethoughts for The Secret Lives of People in Love (Beautiful Books) and offering up this, my final review, but truth be told I was worried about the Van Booy-shaped hole that would be left in my life when I finished it. A stupid thought to hold in one’s head I know, but such is my love for the short stories of Simon Van Booy, that I can’t bear to be without them (oh, have I inadvertently given away my final impressions on the collection already? Probably, but I’m sure it won’t come as any surprise to any regular RobAroundBooks reader what I may have thought). But of course all good things do come to an end, and having now finally turned the last page on this collection its time to collate my reviews of the individual stories, and pass on my final afterthoughts of the collection as a whole.

Kicking off these afterthoughts then is a rundown of my individual reviews for each of the stories in The Secret Lives of People in Love, along with links to those individual reviews. I’ve also included here my rating for each story, together with a brief quote from each mini review. My impressions on the collection as a whole continue below:

• Little Birds – ‘a short story that’s very hard to beat on an emotional kind of level’ – Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• The Reappearance of Strawberries – ‘such is the eloquence of Van Booy’s prose that one leaves this story feeling both mournful and satisfied at the same time’ – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• As Much Below as Up Above – ‘Once again Van Booy has shown himself to be the undisputed master when it comes to exploring the human reaction to love and loss’ – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• Not the Same Shoes – ‘the poetry of Van Booy’s prose is as sublime and omnipresent as it always is, but for me the story itself is all too brief and in many much too vague to make much sense’ – Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
• Where They Hide Is a Mystery – ‘Again Mr. Van Booy has moved me greatly with another touching story that deals with the processes and consequences of loss’ – Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• The World Laughs in Flowers - ‘Again, a hugely powerful and soul-searching tale from Van Booy’ – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• Some Bloom in Darkness – ‘The sheer beauty of Van Booy’s prose and the breathtaking imagery that his words throw up, is beyond description’ – Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
• Distant Ships – ‘A tale of loss that’s been told a thousand times. Thankfully however Van Booy seems to tell it in a more profound way to anyone else’ – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• No Greater Gift – ‘This may not be the most deep and philosophical tale that Simon Van Booy has ever written, but it stands out as one of the most adorable’ – Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• Snow Falls and Then Disappears – ‘what begins as a simple tale of ‘man separates from woman’ soon becomes something much more profound’ – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• The Shepherd on the Rock – ‘Quite remarkable, in so many ways’ – Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• Everything is a Beautiful Trick - ‘Again Van Booy paints a story so incredibly well that the sense of lose and longing is almost palpable’ – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• French Artist Killed in Sunday’s Earthquake – ‘Definitely one of the most pitiful and sombre stories that I’ve ever read, and I mean EVER!’ – Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
• Apples – ‘I particularly enjoyed the cosmopolitan feel of this one. Aside from anything else Van Booy gives a nice little snapshot of the cultural melting pot that is Brooklyn’ – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• Everyday Things – ‘I enjoyed this story but I like some of his others offerings slightly better’ – Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• Conception - ‘the story’s small size holds much power’ – Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
• Save as Many as You Ruin – ‘Although I don’t believe this to be one of the most remarkable stories that Van Booy has penned to date, I believe it to be one of the most intimate, at least from the perspective of its author’ – Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars
• The Still But Falling World – ‘This story is profound, it’s beautiful and it illustrates perfectly just how deft Simon Van Booy is, at turning an ordinary world into an extraordinarily caring one’ – Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
• The Mute Ventriloquist – ‘a slightly longer story than what I’m used to from Van Booy, but just like the rest of the stories in this collection it reads beautifully’ – Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

A collection that gels with power and punch
So, I think it’s clear that there wasn’t a story in The Secret Lives of People in Love that I didn’t like, so it must be a given that I loved the collection as a whole? Well I obviously did, but a big question always looms when it comes to short story collections – did the stories gel well together, and do they compliment one another? I’ve got to say yes and yes they certainly did, because the overall theme of the collection is one of love and lose, and every story certainly contains a strong element of these themes.

Strength of emotion
It is however the strength at which Van Booy explores the themes in this collection that is its most glorious triumph. Under the pen of this hugely competent writer, the stories come with such power and punch that one is highly unlikely to ever forgot most of them. Some writers provide the power and punch using shock and vivid imagery, Van Booy however delivers his ‘blows’ using acute observation, beautifully articulate language, and a deft ability to express the human condition (at least in relation to love and/or loss). His prowess in storytelling is quite remarkable and it’s a real wonder to behold.

Best of the bunch
A note of my favourite will perhaps reinforce the notion that a reader is highly unlikely to forget ever reading the majority of the stories in this collection. You may notice that I’ve only rated two in the collection a perfect five, but there are a good percentage of them which are only half a mark from the perfect score. And although I will remember all of the stories in this collection it is those which I have given the highest ratings to which affected me the most, emotionally. Take French Artist Killed in Sunday’s Earthquake. It’s a short tale, but I’m certain that you’ll never read anything as powerful, regardless of length . It’s about a woman trapped in the rubble of a collapsed building, following an earthquake. She’s suddenly and unexpectedly living out her final moments, and as I’m sure you can imagine this is one that really hits you in the heart. Never have I read any story as sorrowful as this.

Then there’s Some Bloom in Darkness, which earned the elusive ‘perfect score’. And it did so not only because of the brilliance of its imagery, but because of the profound emotion that is harboured within the story’s principle character, Saboné. Unforgettable!

Another favourite – Where They Hide Is a Mystery affected me not only because of its heartrending storyline but because of the uplifting concept that Van Booy comes up, as to what really happens to people when they die.

The other story I gave a perfect score too – The Still But Falling World, awarded not only because of its perfectly engaging storyline but also because it’s simply faultless.

A cosmopolitan selection
Moving on and as I said in my forethoughts Van Booy is well travelled, and you can tell as much from the stories to be found in The Secret Lives of People in Love. The collection takes us to multi-cultural streets of Brooklyn (Apples, No Greater Gift, As Much Below as Up Above) to Paris (Little Birds, Some Bloom in Darkness), from quaint Italian villages (The Still But Falling World) to the rain-soaked hills of Wales (Distant Ships), and other places in between. It’s true to say that the majority of stories are set, or partially set in New York, but the sense of the cosmopolitan – a tribute to Van Booy’s globetrotting ways – is clearly evident.

A perfect score
And so I come to the moment then, when I have to award a final score to The Secret Lives of People in Love. It’s clear from my individual story reviews that this score is going to be high, but perhaps not as high as a perfect five. Well, in a move that is incredibly rare for me (because I don’t usually think that anything is ever perfect), I am awarding a perfect five. And I do so because this collection has touched me more than any other short story collection ever has. Van Booy’s stories have taken my emotions to places I didn’t know existed, and they’ve given me the feeling of perfect bliss; the sense that reading is the most glorious occupation that a human being can be engaged in. There aren’t too many writers who have evoked that feeling in me thus far (John Steinbeck is probably the only other writer who has done it to such depth), but Simon Van Booy most certainly has. It’s been difficult to put that into words (Van Booy would manage it no problem ), but I hope I’ve given you the encouragement to seek out and read this book, because I think it needs to be read by everyone. You owe it to your heart and to your soul to do so.

Rating: 5 out of 5 stars

UK

Beautiful Books | June 2010 | £7.99 | PAPERBACK | 288 PP | ISBN: 9781905636945

US

Harper Perennial | February 2010 | $13.99 | PAPERBACK | 208 PP | ISBN: 9780061766121

:: What others have said about The Secret Lives of People in Love::

• “Those who love the art of the short story will want to add this book to their reading list. Van Booy does not disappoint.” – Wendy, Caribousmum.
• “Exquisite writing that owns a permanent home on the good shelves.” – Bookfool, Bookfoolery and Babble
• “I know I’m waxing poetic about this collection, but it is a dynamite and vibrant piece of writing.” - Jason Rice, Three Guys One Book
• “if you are looking for a soulful collection of stories so realistic and relatable, yet so distant and melancholy that you gasp every few pages, then this is your book” – The Girl From the Ghetto

*****

Before you read my review on The Birth Machine by Elizabeth Baines (Salt Publishing), I invite you to visit my forethoughts on the book. Here you will be able to read a full preview on the book, together with a few preliminary thoughts on it. For those who don’t have the time or the inclination, here’s a brief rundown on the plot:

Zelda, the wife of medical researcher Dr. Roland Harris, is brought into hospital to begin the induction process for the birth of her first baby. As Zelda’s labour progresses her state of mind changes, and she stresses about her current situation she goes in and out of dream-like phases, where her mind casts back to her childhood, and one particularly traumatic and indelible memory.

Somewhat weighed down in technical jargon
So that’s a brief rundown on what The Birth Machine is about (trust me it’s a short work of fiction so you don’t need to know much more than that), but what did I really think of it? Well I’ve got to to say that I enjoyed this novel very much, even though it’s a little heavy going at times. And it’s heavy going for a couple of reasons. Firstly, there’s a fair amount of medical jargon and run down on procedure. Of course, knowing from the outset that this is a book about a woman going through the various stages of induced labour, I was expecting all of the medical lingo (in fact if you’d read my forethoughts post then you’d know a hospital phobia had me dreading it ), but maybe not quite to the technical depth I experienced. While this is a credit to the author’s knowledge on the subject (or more probably her research skills), there were paragraphs of the novel (thankfully not too many), that read more like a medical textbook than a work of prose, and it took a bit of effort sticking with it. This is not a criticism – the overly technical presence both informed and authenticated the story – but it just took a little more focus keeping with the text at times.

Secondly, as the story develops and Zelda gets more and more hallucinatory and confused (a side effect of both the drugs and the prolonged pain), so the story gets more abstract, ambiguous and mixed up. This change in prose and the mixing up of story threads is, of course, in reaction to the drastic change in character, but it does increase the difficulty in being able follow and comprehend the story. I should quickly add however that Baines’ treatment of the changing character of Zelda is triumphant, so the extra effort needed is worth it. I read somewhere that Baines likes to ‘consciously explore and experiment with style and tone’, and this is clearly evident in the way that the novel evolves.

Well crafted characters, but too little McGuirk
On briefly then to a quick mention of the characters in The Birth Machine and I’ve got to say that I thoroughly enjoyed them all. They are all fairly well crafted and, for the most part, interesting. Zelda not surprisingly is the most developed of all, and she is also, for me, almost the most intriguing. Zelda is very credible character and one really feels empathy both for the situation she is in, and the shocking secret she carries with her (no spoilers here, folks ). Her husband Roland, who is something of an overly nervous and somewhat weak research doctor, is another interesting fellow, but I felt that he did not feature in the story quite as much as I perhaps hoped that he would have.

I said that Zelda was almost the most intriguing character in The Birth Machine for me, but there is one other key character who intrigued me more. That character is the obstetrics professor Professor McGuirk, who opens the novel having freshly flown in to Boston from England to giving a lecture, before rushing to the airport straight after, to catch a plane back home in time for supper. I was instantly attracted to McGuirk, both for his scholarly intelligence and his mild eccentricity. This is one character that I felt had a lot more to give, but he didn’t really get all that much of a chance to give it (ironically most of the medical jargon that I ‘complained’ about before comes from the mouth of McGuirk ). Saying that, this story is of course all about Zelda, and her journey through labour and childbirth, so to take the focus away from her and to give it to another character would be detrimental (especially in such a short novel), so this is no criticism whatsoever on the author or her story, I’m just passing comment on a personal preference for characters.

Before closing this review I should mention that although Baines has turned out a rather special and entertaining little story, she had something of an ulterior motive. She states in her author notes that she wanted to tell a story which explores the arrogance of contemporary medical thinking; to poke at the fact that certain personal health matters are overlooked in the name of scientific advancement. She said that she choose to set her novel in the world of obstetrics because ‘in the moments of birth the line between burgeoning life and proximate death is at its fuzziest and, in the contemporary high-tech set-up, so-called scientific objectivity and personal subjectivity [are] most strikingly in conflict’. So her novel has something of a political aspect to it, but thankfully she’s somewhat subtle in her execution, and such a motive can really only be spotted when one reads between the lines.

In summing up then I’m happy to state that my first dip into the literary world of Elizabeth Baines has been a wholly positive one. The Birth Machine is a very accomplished short novel, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I would say however that for the most part this novel is perhaps more suited to the female readership. I believe that a woman (especially one who’s gone through childbirth), will be able to relate to the subject matter a lot better than any man could, and for that reason alone I think it’s more for readers of the fairer sex.

Only one question remains I suppose. Did I faint or throw up while reading The Birth Machine as I said I might in my forethoughts? Thankfully I didn’t although I got a little giddy around the subject of ‘breaking waters’. Actually, The Birth Machine turned out to be not that graphic, something for which I’m eternally grateful to Elizabeth Baines for .

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

:: What others have said about The Birth Machine::

• “Salt’s done the public a service in bringing this one back. It’s a rock-hard satire and a very, very, very good read” – Valerie O’Riordan for Bookmunch.
• “I enjoyed this book very much. It’s the best thing I’ve read by her…and I’m happy to recommend it, to men (and not simply fathers) as well as women (and not simply feminists).” - Jim Murdoch, The Truth About Lies.

Salt Publishing | November 2010 | £8.99 | PAPERBACK | 160 PP | ISBN: 9781907773020

*****

“Men have lost all sense of honour. Power has become their faith instead of faith being their power”

It’s only been a day or so since I posted my forethoughts on this novel, but I return already to let you know what I thought of it. To avoid repeating myself in terms of the plot for this novel and the background of the author, I invite you to visit that forethoughts post if you want further information on these things. Onwards then to my afterthoughts for Atiq Rahimi’s Earth and Ashes:

From the outset I have to say that there is very little in Earth and Ashes that is going to raise the spirits. It’s a very bleak novel that comes without warmth or comfort, yet I still recommend that you to read it. And I do so because I think Earth and Ashes stands as a great testament to how good a storyteller, Atiq Rahimi is. The novel may only amount to less than 70 pages in total (which essentially makes it a long short story I suppose), but Rahimi packs an awful lot into a tiny space, and he does so with much elegance and grace.

In the first instance Rahimi is wonderfully lyrical in the use of his prose in Earth and Ashes, and he shows a real interest in putting that skill to great effect in exploring the human condition, especially in relation to loss. I won’t deny that Rahimi is also using Earth and Ashes to send out a huge political message – not surprising given that the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan had such a huge impact on the writer during his teenage years – but he transmits this message in a more subtle way, choosing to keep the main focus of the novel on the main character Dastaguir, and the way in which that character is trying to come to terms with devastation and loss.

Because Earth and Ashes is so short in length it’s difficult for me to say too much about Dastaguir’s situation without giving away the story. But I will say that his situation is hopeless (so hopeless that he even renounces his faith at one point), and it’s made all the worse due to the illusions and flashbacks which keep coming to the front of his mind all the time. As such one instantly feels sorry for the main character, but Rahimi instills the sense of hopelessness in the reader to an even greater depth, by presenting this entire novel in second-person perspective i.e. just as in portions of Italo Calvino’s If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller, where the narrative uses the term ‘you’ as though the reader were in the role of the character. It may take a page or two to get used to how the story is being told, but when one does one seems to be instilled with a greater empathy for the main character and the dreadful situation that he finds himself in. It’s all very cleverly done.

I said at the start of these afterthoughts that Rahimi packs an awful lot into such a short novel. And one of the things he makes a point of doing in Earth and Ashes (and thank heavens he does because it’s a real triumph and a treat), is mixing in the contemporary with the traditional; with the traditional coming from the great Persian epic, Shahnama (Book of Kings). Rahimi makes a number of references to the Shahnama throughout – or rather to the primary events that occur in that epic – but it is at one point in the novel in particular – a point where a character is summing up how things have changed to the detriment of the Afghani people – that the references to the Shahnama become the most pertinent. And what a privilege it is to witness that moment – the moment when a writer pulls something out of from his heritage and applies it so that it becomes wholly relevant to his own time. It’s almost worth buying this book for this moment alone.

I just want to note a couple of other things I go. Firstly, that I consider Erdag Goknar’s translation of this work to be exemplary, and totally sympathetic of Rahimi’s wonderfully poetic prose. Secondly, I want to give praise for the quality of this US edition of Earth and Ashes. At first I thought $13.95 was a bit steep for a book so slim, but after working with the book over the past day or two I’m delighted at how well this edition has been put together. The quality and elegance if binding and design match up perfectly to the quality and elegance of the story.

And so I will leave these afterthoughts then, hoping that I have given you enough motivation to go and pick up this book. You already know that you’re not going to walk away from this one with a smile on your face and a skip in your step, but I hope that you will walk away having had your heart and soul touched by a very competent writer, and one who still holds a link to the storytellers of the great Persian literary past.

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

Other Press | August 2010 | $13.95 | HARDBACK | 96 PP | ISBN: 9781590513453

[UK] – Vintage | October 2003 | £5.99 | PAPERBACK | 64 PP | ISBN: 0099442124

:: What others have said about Earth and Ashes::

• “a powerful, understated work.” - M.A.Orthofer, The Complete Review.
• “Rahimi is the kind of writer who should be read by everybody.” – Marie Cloutier, The Boston Bibliophile.
• “Earth And Ashes is a great little tale” – Stewart McAbney, Booklit blog.