Balancing on the Edge of the World
by Elizabeth Baines (2007)
Short Fiction, 108 pages
Salt Publishing

Review copy courtesy of the author

Advisory: Strong language, Sexual content
(Not too much or gratuitous)

Notice above I use the term “short fiction”, not short stories. Fourteen stories taking up 108 pages should be a clear indicator as to why: many of them are merely a few pages long. However don’t let the size of the work fool you. This is a book where the narrative proves that much can be conveyed with little.

Not that every story is perfect, or perfectly written. It doesn’t need to be, as in many cases I suspect the issues which gnawed at me were due to the author using a regional voice, one with which I am little familiar due to my nationality.

I’m not saying as an American I had a hard time with the content, far from it. The theme connecting these stories is universal. It is only the vernacular that at times challenged me. There will always be some subtleties that elude the reader as they have no understanding a particular culture or sub-culture. If an author is skilled enough, these detractions can be overcome, enlightening the reader rather than alienating them.

At times, I did feel like I was missing out on a few of those subtleties, but not many. Overall, my experience with this collection was positive.

The recurring theme is power. That which you have, which you want, and that which others wield over you. The sense of it as it crashes through a moment in time, sometimes crushing those caught beneath it, others times picking them up and carrying them along for a ride as that is really all they can do – hold on and hope for the best.

Primarily woman are the protagonists, but there are children too. Why? I think because of the perception that they are more susceptible and vulnerable. Not that men cannot be similarly affected, however these characters are more likely to tug at ones empathy, drawing the reader in deeper, and thus causing a stronger reaction to their story.

I cannot say this will be the case with every reader, just that it was with me.

One of the most poignant of the group is “Compass and Torch”. It is aptly named, for in it a father and son seek common ground, but find out how difficult it is to navigate through a current of emotions which should bring them together, yet hold them back.

But they don’t need a compass after all. They are adventurers…Compasses are things that boys and dads tend to have, but which, when they are alert and strong at heart, they can leave behind. It is no accident that they both left their compasses behind.

Another one of my favorites, wasn’t – at first. One of the unique aspects of this anthology is the varying styles the author uses. Sometimes straightforward narrative, at others prose-like, nearly poetic. “Daniel Smith Disappears Off the Face of the Earth” is one of those stories that didn’t take hold until I had finished it. I then re-read it for the full effect and was amazed how Baines handles  a moment, that moment, when a young man’s world changes forever:

Panic swells the darkness of the space beyond the tree…He says: Only fifteen. He is pleading: how suddenly he slides from denial of his youth to desperation for its refuge, how cravenly his soul is slipping in the dark.

This is a collection unlike any other I have ever read. Some stories are barely two pages, the longest at twenty. Some are straight narrative, others lyrical – like poetry. I cannot say I liked them all equally, but I can say enjoyed this anthology. I find this to be an excellent introduction to this author, and will keep an eye out for more of her work. I am giving this 4 stars out of 5.

  Later, at the Bar by Rebecca Barry (2007)
  Contemporary Fiction, 189 pages
  Published by Simon & Schuster Paperbacks

Usually I would place a blurb here about the book from it’s cover or jacket. However, inside there’s a description about the book by Hannah Tinti, author of Animal Crackers and The Good Thief. I liked it so much, I’ll quote her instead:

There is a kind of magic that happens at the right bar, with the right people, at the right time of night. A certain song comes on the jukebox, the bartender starts to sing, and two people wobble off their stools, lean into each other, and begin to sway. For a moment, it feels like the center of the world. Later, at the Bar is seasoned with characters who live for this kind of magic , who love hard and drink harder. Rebecca Barry skillfully weaves together their stories as if she is making her way through a room full of friends, then finds you a seat at the bar, leans over, and spills all of their secrets. They are full of heartache and hope, and you will want to stay with them, until everyone puts down their drinks and starts to dance.

The tavern in Barry’s story was founded by Lucy, who nurtured it because she “loved live music and dancing and understood people who liked longing more than they did love” and in doing so, “it became the center of the community.”

However it is not merely the center: it’s the lynch-pin.

When I first heard of this book, I thought it was a collection of short stories about individuals who frequent a bar, that each story may, or may not, be related to one another.

This is not the case. Yes, each chapter can stand on its own, but the author skillfully integrates one into another that this truly is ‘a novel in stories’.

I like the contemporary tone of the story and the fact that the characters are written so well, I actually recognized a few of them. They reminded me of someone I once knew – or still know.

It is this more than anything that struck me hardest. I used to watch Monday Night Football religiously at a restaurant/bar and formed strong friendships with some of the other patrons as well as some of the staff. In doing so you learn a lot about people. Sometimes even yourself.

These are the memories Barry’s writing brought back. She also shows the potentiality of what may have happened had many of those relationships continued through the amount of time that passes in Later, at the Bar. And if they remained centered around a bar.

Perhaps they both knew that it was the last time they would be together like this, that Grace would leave and they would both move on and later they might see each other in passing, or hear each other’s news, but they wouldn’t feel the heat of each other’s skin, or the roughness of each other’s hearts the way they did then. So they lay there for a while…wrapped around each other in the private, lavender time between night and day when anything can happen and sometimes, at least for a little while, all is forgiven.

I read this during Dewey’s Read-A-Thon, and I have to say it was my favorite. Definitely a keeper, and definitely worth 5 out of 5 Stars!

This is Rebecca Barry’s first book and was chosen as a New York Times notable book of the Year in 2007. Her nonfiction has appeared in numerous publications, including The New York Times Magazine, The Washington Post Magazine, Real Simple, Hallmark, and The Best American Travel Writing 2003. Her fiction has appeared in Ploughshares, One Story, Tin House, Best New American Voices 2005 and elsewhere.

Irish Girls About Town (2002)
Anthology of Short Stories, 310 pages
This edition: Simon & Schuster, Inc. for Barnes & Noble (2006)

As with the U.K. and Irish edition, Barnardo’s and the Society of St. Vincent de Paul will benefit from the sale of this edition of Irish Girls About Town.

Another review that has been languishing on my desk since October. Ay yi yi.

No sooner did I recuperate from the Read-A-Thon, than I began preparing, and then became immersed in, National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). As a first time participant, I had no idea what I was getting myself into – and yes, that would be par for the course.

I had decided early in the marathon, that short stories were the way to go, and so I read Interpreter of Maladies , this book, and a little bit of The Book of Lost Things.

I flew through this book of 15 stories, all written by Irish women. The theme throughout is that of relationships, ranging from familial to marriage, and even though there is a single theme, there are enough variations of it to make it easy to read and just as easy to enjoy.

My personal favorites were “Soulmates” by Marian Keyes, “The Twenty-Eighth Day” by Catherine Barry, and “Thelma, Louise and the Lurve Gods” by Cathy Kelly. Don’t get me wrong though, there is not a bad story in the bunch, it’s just that I felt compelled to list the ones that stick out in my mind the most.

“Soulmates” is an interesting tale about two ‘perfect’ people fated to meet and be together because they are, yes, soulmates. Everything is just right when it comes to these two: their meeting, their courtship, and subsequent marriage. But when trouble looms on the horizon, their friends harbor a secret hope that all will unravel, and do so badly. I will leave it for you to read the story to find out what happens.

“The Twenty-Eighth Day” is for anyone who has suffered through PMS – and I just don’t mean the woman:

I am being tormented and tortured by some unknown force I cannot touch or feel. It’s like somebody else has taken over my body, mind, and soul. There is a demon spirit inside me, telling me to do inappropriate things, prompting me to say hurtful, offensive words, urging me to be the meanest b—- that ever walked the earth.

“Thelma, Louise and the Lurve Gods” initially appears to be a story about a woman who needs a vacation from her boring life, to experience something more exciting than “not having a Chinese takeaway on Friday nights but…shock, horror…having pizza instead.” No sooner does the vacation begin than a snag threatens to destroy all her hopes. However she eventually learns that the trip she is on is one of self-discovery, for as she notes, “Although my own world had shifted on its axis after the holiday, in the office nothing had changed.” Things around her remained the same, it was she who had changed – who needed to change – so she could see those things, and herself, more clearly.

I am giving this book a 5 star rating as per my system that states a book earns this because I could not put it down. And I couldn’t.