I chose this short Christmas novella with the perfect cover during a cold and windy night over the holidays.

Brief but breathtaking, Small Things Like These was shortlisted for the 2022 Booker Prize and is set in the days leading up to Christmas.

Bill Furlong is living a quiet, simple life in Ireland. He’s a happy man and dotes on his wife and five daughters. They have enough to eat and aren’t living on credit. The town has known hard times, factories are closing, and people are being laid off. Mr. Furlong is making ends meet by delivering coal and firewood to the townspeople.

Continue reading Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan

Once I finished The Correspondent, I was reminded of another epistolary novel which I once started but never finished. So, I unearthed Letters from Yellowstone and finished it over the next two evenings.

In the spring of 1898, A. E. (Alexandria) Bartram—a spirited young woman with a love for botany—is invited to join a field study in Yellowstone National Park. The study’s leader, a mild-mannered professor from Montana, is less than pleased to discover that A.E. is actually a woman.

Once he and the other scientists overcome their shock, they forge ahead on a summer of research and adventure. They move from Mammoth Hot Springs to a camp high in the back country. They struggle with weather, rugged terrain and each other. As they make their way collecting amid Yellowstone’s beauty, the group is conflicted by differing views on science, nature, and economics.

This compelling story of a woman botanist and the assorted characters she meets during her Yellowstone summer drew me in from the beginning. And while some of the letters do slow down the pace, Ms. Smith does an admirable job with the epistolary format, language and manners of that time period,

Letters from Yellowstone contains bits of humor and much excitement, but most interestingly, it’s also a love letter to the joys of botanical discovery, as well as a thoughtful reflection on environmentalism, Native American displacement, and feminism at the dawn of a new century.

N.B.: The book does a wonderful job introducing non scientific readers to the wild flowers, plants, trees and wildlife of Yellowstone ~~ which can be viewed online at the National Parks Service websites.

Summer is officially over, but here in our foggy city by the bay, it’s finally the beginning of our good weather. We’ve put the deck cushions out and I’ve been enjoying the warm sun (with hat and sunscreen) and dipping into this book.

When I spotted Stories for Summer on display in my local used bookstore I just had to have it. Look at that cover and the list of authors includes many of my favorites.

New to me, and hard to find in this country, The British Library has issued a Women Writers series, reissuing lesser-known novels by female authors from the 20th century for modern-day readers to enjoy.

From the introduction:

Whether on a Greek island, in a French chateau, or at Kew Gardens, each summer story shows a significant day, hour or moment in the life of women from many walks of life. And whether you’re able to take this book to a beautiful beach or are reading for some summery escape, I hope you’ll enjoy meeting new authors and perhaps re-encountering much-loved ones. (Introduction by series consultant Simon Thomas.)

I enjoyed going to Lake Como for Elizabeth Bowen’s Requiescat. Stuart has come to see the recently widowed Mrs Majendie, who was married to his friend, Howard. As this subtly crushing story unfolds, it reveals the true nature of Stuart’s feelings for Mrs Majendie, hinting at what might have been if their paths had brought them together.

She was less beautiful than he had remembered her, and very tall and thin in her black dress. Her composure did not astonish him; her smile, undimmed, and the sound of her voice recalled to him the poignancy of his feelings when he had first known her, his resentment and sense of defeat—she had possessed herself of Howard so entirely. She was shortsighted, there was always a look of uncertainty in her eyes until she came quite near one, her big pupils seemed to see too much at once and nothing very plainly.

Daphne du Maurier’s The Pool, tells the tale of two young children, Deborah and Roger, who stay at their grandparents’ country house during the summer holidays. This story opens with this glorious description, which seems to set the scene for an idyllic summer.

The children ran out on to the lawn. There was space all around them, and light, and air, with the trees indeterminate beyond. The gardener had cut the grass. The lawn was crisp and firm now, because of the hot sun through the day; but near the summer-house where the tall grass stood there were dew-drops like frost clinging to the narrow stems.

As this disquieting story unfolds, a palpable sense of darkness creeps in, reflecting Deborah’s fascination with a nearby woodland area and pool, to which she offers small tokens, such as a pencil stub, as ritual sacrifices. Du Maurier is known for her unnerving, atmospheric short fiction, and The Pool is very much in this vein, casting an unsettling spell over Deborah’s secret visits.

In Afternoon in Summer by Sylvia Townsend Warner – A young married couple in the country for the summer decide to bike up to a pub some way down the road. When they arrive, hot and thirsty, they find it not open for tea and have to wait an hour and a half for it to open, so they journey on looking for a church, and there they start their afternoon adventure. I enjoyed the writing on this and it’s piqued my interest in trying this author again. I didn’t get along with her Lolly Willows.

Kew Gardens by Virginia Woolf chronicles various people who stroll through Kew Gardens, noticing a flower or two, and we catch a phrase or two of their conversation. A piece that celebrates the beauty of Kew Gardens.

I have many more stories to read in this beautifully produced book and there are lots of sunny days to come so I will keep it handy to dip in and out of ~~ as another reviewer said, this is the literary equivalent of a box of chocolates.

Uh oh… I just did a search and found the full series there are 26 in all, and two jumped out at me — don’t these look yummy? But I will resist as I have waaay too many holiday books I have yet to read.

The other week when I finished The Keeper of Stories , I thought – hmm there’s a book with a similar title somewhere on my shelves. Found it, The Keeper of Lost Things.

This novel came out in 2017 to high praise from many book bloggers and book tubers. Yet, somehow it got put on the shelf, as yet unread.

Anthony Peardew is a finder and keeper of lost things. Having lost something he once held dear, he knows all too well the pain of dispossession. In fact, his experience with loss in general runs deep. So he collects random objects—often meaningless to others—and imagines what they once meant to their owners. He gives these things a home in his cluttered but lovely London house – called Padua. He catalogs the exact place and moment he found each item in hopes to one day reunite them with their rightful owner.

Lime green plastic flower-shaped hair bobbles—Found, on the playing field, Derrywood Park, 2nd September.

Bone china cup and saucer—Found, on a bench in Riveria Public Gardens, 31st October.

Now, in the twilight of his life, Anthony worries that he has not fully discharged his duty to reconcile all the lost things with their owners. As the end nears, he bequeaths his secret life’s mission to his unsuspecting assistant, Laura, leaving her his house and and all its lost treasures, including an irritable ghost.

Recovering from an ugly divorce, Laura, in some ways, is one of Anthony’s lost things. But when she moves into his mansion, her life begins to change. She finds a new friend in the neighbor’s Downs Syndrome daughter, Sunshine (a sensitively developed character) and a welcome distraction in Freddy, the gardener. As Laura regains her footing and starts to recover from her own loss, she and her new companions, set out to realize Anthony’s last wish: reuniting his cherished lost objects with their owners.

There are two plot-timelines: 40 years earlier, Eunice found a trinket on the London pavement and kept it through the years. Now, with her own end drawing near, she has lost something precious—a twist of fate that forces her to break a promise she once made.

Both timelines were engaging, but scattered throughout the novel are Arthur’s stories about some of the found objects — a real treat.

Fair warning many found The Keeper of Lost Things trite and saccharine and yes, it is an old-fashioned novel, with manners and decorum — maybe it was my mood, but I found it enchanting and a lovely escape from reality.

Anthony had made her tea at the interview. He had brought it into the garden room; teapot with cozy, milk jug, sugar bowl and tongs, cups and saucers, silver teaspoons, tea strainer and stand.
All set out on a tray with a tray cloth. Pure white, lace –edged linen. The tray cloth was definitive. Padua was clearly a house where all these things, including the tray cloth, were part of every day life.

The novel starts out slowly and it takes a few chapters before things start to get interesting, stick with it my friends – it’s a lovely read. And despite my current obsession with clearing out “stuff” and “things”, it did remind me of the significance of the objects we love and care for. I’ll cheat here and quote another reviewer which sums up this book nicely:

A charming, clever, and quietly moving novel of of endless possibilities and joyful discoveries that explores the promises we make and break, losing and finding ourselves, the objects that hold magic and meaning for our lives, and the surprising connections that bind us.

N.B. There is a great deal of tea drinking which Sunshine carefully makes and names “the lovely cup of tea” — a gentle hug throughout.