It has been quite some time since I have read a short story, possibly not since college. I picked this collection up at a book sale because it seemed to have good reviews on Goodreads and I wanted to try something different.
If you are in the mood for something unrelentingly depressing, then this is what you are looming for. I think I maybe would have enjoyed it more if I hadn’t tried to read it like a novel and had taken my time, but I just slogged through it, grimacing.
She’s certainly a good writer, but I found her usage of pronouns and narrators to be a bit misleading and frustrating. I have been buoyed to give other short story collections a go, but this one just wasn’t for me.
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I’ve see Edna O’Brien’s name all over the place this year (I think she has a memoir out) and have been mulling around the idea of reading something of hers. I’ll keep this review in mind. I’m not in the market for a depressing book right now!