Small Things Like These

Wonderfully cosy yet powerful short story that was very pleasant to read approaching the festive season. Addressing and condemning the ability of people to ignore the suffering of those less fortunate, through the misguided belief that they are a "different" kind of people compared to themselves.

The writing is the star of this book above all, highlighting the beauty in simple everyday things and people in ways that invoke vivid imagery that forces you to feel. I particularly enjoy the use of weather throughout the book, the pervasive cold of the Catholic church contrasted with the empathetic warm coal merchant.

A good history lesson on a topic I had little knowledge of prior, but ended far too quickly. I was genuinely shocked when there wasn't at least a final chapter after the last page which left me feeling a tad bit dissatisfied toward the end.

Absolutely still worth a read and the writer is an extraordinary talent and I look forward to exploring her other work.

Favourite lines (pretty spoil free)

"Before long, he caught a hold of himself and concluded that nothing ever did happen again; to each was given days and chances which wouldn't come back around. And wasn't it sweet to be where you were and let it remind you of the past for once, despite the upset, instead of always looking on into the mechanics of the days and the trouble ahead, which might never come."

"Furlong did and did not know, he found himself asking was there any point in being alive without helping one another? Was it possible to carry on along through all the years, the decades, through an entire life, without once being brave enough to go against what was there and yet call yourself a Christian, and face yourself in the mirror"

"his fear more than outweighed every other feeling but in his foolish heart he not only hoped but legitimately believed that they would manage."

Novela curtia costumista ambientá n'Irlanda nos años ochenta. Tenía toles papeletes pa encantame y convertise nun favoritu, por embargu, decepcionóme un poco. Non porque fore malu, nin mucho menos, sinón porque esparaba salgo más. Quizá tenía espectatives demasiao altes...

En fin, la novelina sigui a Bill Furlong, un mercaer de carbón. Ye un paisanu corriente y moliente con muyer y fíes (cinco, concretamente). El llibru céntrase nel conceptu de “muyer caía”, términu que s'usaba pa referise a muyeres que perdieren la virxinidá enantes de casase, madres solteres, muyeres vioales, prostitutes... cualquier muyer que nun siguiere les normes marcaes pola ilesia.

La madre de Furlong yera una d'estes “muyeres caíes”, pues yera madre soltera y nun se sabía, nin tampoco ella quería confesar, la identidá del pá. Cuando esto pasó echáronla de casa, tul mundu dexóla de lláu y abandonóla. Tos excepto la señora pa la que trabayaba, Mrs. Wilson. Nun la echó del puestu nin-y quitó'l sueldu, sinón que dio-y un hogar, un sitiu seguru nel que criar al so fíu. Mrs. Wilson nunca lu trató de menos por ser un “bastardu”. Non obstante, nun yera na mesma situación na cai: la xente mirábalu mal, como si llevare la marca de la vergoña y el pecáu na frente, em colexu metíense con él... por algo que nin siquiera yera realmente culpa suya. Por embargu, gracies a l'ayuda y sofitu de Mrs. Wilson y la so propia integridá y trabayu “escaló” na sociedá y entamó a ser un paisanu respetable.

N'Irlanda esistíen unes instituciones católiques ampares pol estáu llamaes “Llavanderíes de la Madalena” onde estes muyeres facíen dellos llabores en condiciones deplorables ya insalubres. Les monxes robáben-yos los bebés a les moces que veníen con ellos o entraben yá embarazaes. Taben totalmente apartaes de la sociedá.

Furlong entabla contactu con una d'estes moces y siente la obligación y deber morales de sacala d'ehí, d'ayudala, anque tul mundu-y tuviere diciendo que siguiere a lo suyo y que nun se metiere nesos percales. Fala de la hipocresía d'algunos cristianos, d'aquellos que son quien a ver miseria y sufrimientu, xirar la cara, facer como si nun pasare na y tirar pa misa.

Resumiendo, un bon conceptu, un ambiente navidiegu y una gran escritora. Aun teniendo tos estos elemento, faltóme salgo, nun sé mui bien el qué. Encantaríame ver esti conceptu más densendolcáu nuna novela más llarga.

“As they carried on along and met more people Furlong did and did not know, he found himself asking was there any point in being alive without helping one another? Was it possible to carry on along through all the years, the decades, through an entire life, without once being brave enough to go against what was there and yet call yourself a Christian, and face yourself in the mirror?”

If you're into small towns, moral quandaries, and Irish slang, this is your jam!

This novella packs a lot of emotional and character complexity into its short story. It's a story of identity, of family, and of the ongoing struggle to do what's right or look the other way for the sake of convenience. It takes place over a couple of days and contains only a handful of scenes, but paints a rich picture of a small Irish town where everybody knows everybody and no one wants to upset those in power, even if they know something is wrong. The protagonist is easy to overlook and would usually be a supporting character, one who does nothing of importance, and that is what makes him the perfect protagonist for the story.

Keegan mostly writes short fiction, and that's apparent here, as her prose is able to convey enormous depth of emotion, character, and world-building in just a few sentences. You can read this in a couple hours, but don't rush through it. Take time to savor Keegan's literary mastery.

what a gem of a book - it's a super brief, subtle yet beautiful glimpse of a small corner of the world. i think Claire Keegan balances so many of the charming, simple details of a Christmastime Irish town (and its shortcomings) with such a pressing issue in a very impressive way. the plot remains incredibly simple but beautiful nonetheless. i see why some people adore it and why it doesn't strike others as very interesting, still i enjoyed it and i recommend reading and rereading this, especially to those that have visited ireland - it nicely captures the country and its culture

The premise of the book is very important and the execution was marvelous but I think the story has been cut short for the length and even though the writing style is very simple and relevant, I was hoping for more versatility here. The ending has suited this book well in, adapting an open-to-interpretation ending gave the book the last touch of realism it needed. Not to mention I got to know about an obscure historical practice that involved the death of more than ten thousand innocent people. Kudos to Claire Keegan for mentioning this topic in the author's note.
4 stars/5

I've been hearing about Small Things Like These for weeks now, and everything I heard about it was good, so I have been waiting and waiting for the single copy of it in our huge library system to arrive for me for a long time. I worried that I might have pumped up my expectations for this book, and that I would be disappointed; I did not.

Small Things Like These is a small book about small lives in a small town. Bill Furlong is a coal merchant, and it's winter, and Furlong is busily trying to keep all his customers fully stocked. He is married and has five girls, and he's respected in the community, but his life was not always so smooth. His mother became pregnant with him out of wedlock, and things could have been horrible for Bill and his mother, but, unexpectedly, his mother's employer kept her on, and everything changed for Bill.

When Bill is faced with a difficult situation, he must make a moral judgment about how to proceed. Whatever path he decides to take will not be easy.


Here are some quotes that might offer some small spoilers...read with caution...

“What was it all for? Furlong wondered. The work and the constant worry. Getting up in the dark and going to the yard, making the deliveries, one after another, the whole day long, then coming home in the dark and trying to wash the black off himself and sitting into a dinner at the table and falling asleep before waking in the dark to meet a version of the same thing, yet again. Might things never change or develop into something else, or new?”

“Always it was the same, Furlong thought; always they carried mechanically on without pause, to the next job at hand. What would life be like, he wondered, if they were given time to think and reflect over things? Might their lives be different or much the same – or would they just lose the run of themselves?”

“He found himself asking was there any point in being alive without helping one another? Was it possible to carry on along through all the years, the decades, through an entire life, without once being brave enough to go against what was there and yet call yourself a Christian, and face yourself in the mirror?”

“He thought of Mrs Wilson, of her daily kindnesses, of how she had corrected and encouraged him, of the small things she had said and done and had refused to do and say and what she must have known, the things which, when added up, amounted to a life. Had it not been for her, his mother might very well have wound up in that place. In an earlier time, it could have been his own mother he was saving – if saving was what this could be called. And only God knew what would have happened to him, where he might have ended up.”

4 stars purely bc I've never heard of magdalene laundries before and this book made me go into a rabbit hole to learn more. it was also well written and and I love the small community atmosphere in this one. so short yet made me care abt the characters and I feel like I know them which is insane and impressive to me

সিনেমাটা দেখার আগে ভাবলাম বইটা পড়ে ফেলি। মিতকায় এই উপন্যাস থেকে এতটা গভীরতার সন্ধান পেয়ে যাবো আশা করিনি। আজকে এই বৃষ্টিঘেরা ঘষা কাচের মতো ভোরবেলায় রোগা বইটা শেষ করে মনে ভাসছে হেমন্ত মুখোপাধ্যায়ের কণ্ঠে রবীন্দ্রনাথের সেই গানটা—

আছে দুঃখ, আছে মৃত্যু, বিরহদহন লাগে
তবুও শান্তি, তবু আনন্দ, তবু অনন্ত জাগে