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EVERYTHING IN THIS COUNTRY MUST

A NOVELLA AND TWO STORIES

More exquisite and wrenching storytelling from Manhattan-based Irish author McCann (This Side of Brightness, 1998, etc.), who packs more passion and heartbreak into these two stories and novella, about the Troubles and children coping with hard times, than most writers can generate in books three times the length. The title story is a classic in contemporary Irish fiction: A farmer, desperate to save his favorite horse, whose leg is stuck between stones in a raging river, enlists help from his daughter, Katie, and from a passing truck'which, however, turns out to be full of British soldiers. The men rush to the rescue, and succeed in it, but though Katie invites them back to the house to dry off and have tea, there’s no joy in her father’s heart: On the mantel are photos of his wife and son, killed by an army truck in an incident for which no one was ever charged. “Wood” is far more subtle, about a boy who works with his mother preparing poles to carry banners in the Protestant parade, though he must do so furtively, knowing that his father, crippled by a stroke and unable to work, would never approve. The novella, “Hunger Strike,” also focuses on a boy: this one has moved to Galway with his mother, a singer who hopes to start anew in her hometown, away from the violence of the north and the lingering memories of her husband’s death. The Troubles haunt the two when the boy’s uncle, in prison as an IRA terrorist, joins the collective hunger strike and progressively weakens. The boy befriends an elderly Lithuanian couple who take a kayak on the ocean together daily, but the comfort he finds in paddling over the waves is not enough to soothe his rage at what is happening to his father’s brother. Masterful. These emotionally charged, beautifully controlled tales can only enhance McCann’s already considerable reputation.

Pub Date: March 8, 2000

ISBN: 0-8050-6398-6

Page Count: 160

Publisher: Henry Holt

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 1, 2000

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IF CATS DISAPPEARED FROM THE WORLD

Jonathan Livingston Kitty, it’s not.

A lonely postman learns that he’s about to die—and reflects on life as he bargains with a Hawaiian-shirt–wearing devil.

The 30-year-old first-person narrator in filmmaker/novelist Kawamura’s slim novel is, by his own admission, “boring…a monotone guy,” so unimaginative that, when he learns he has a brain tumor, the bucket list he writes down is dull enough that “even the cat looked disgusted with me.” Luckily—or maybe not—a friendly devil, dubbed Aloha, pops onto the scene, and he’s willing to make a deal: an extra day of life in exchange for being allowed to remove something pleasant from the world. The first thing excised is phones, which goes well enough. (The narrator is pleasantly surprised to find that “people seemed to have no problem finding something to fill up their free time.”) But deals with the devil do have a way of getting complicated. This leads to shallow musings (“Sometimes, when you rewatch a film after not having seen it for a long time, it makes a totally different impression on you than it did the first time you saw it. Of course, the movie hasn’t changed; it’s you who’s changed") written in prose so awkward, it’s possibly satire (“Tears dripped down onto the letter like warm, salty drops of rain”). Even the postman’s beloved cat, who gains the power of speech, ends up being prim and annoying. The narrator ponders feelings about a lost love, his late mother, and his estranged father in a way that some readers might find moving at times. But for many, whatever made this book a bestseller in Japan is going to be lost in translation.

Jonathan Livingston Kitty, it’s not.

Pub Date: March 12, 2019

ISBN: 978-1-250-29405-0

Page Count: 176

Publisher: Flatiron Books

Review Posted Online: Feb. 16, 2019

Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 1, 2019

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THE SECRET HISTORY

The Brat Pack meets The Bacchae in this precious, way-too-long, and utterly unsuspenseful town-and-gown murder tale. A bunch of ever-so-mandarin college kids in a small Vermont school are the eager epigones of an aloof classics professor, and in their exclusivity and snobbishness and eagerness to please their teacher, they are moved to try to enact Dionysian frenzies in the woods. During the only one that actually comes off, a local farmer happens upon them—and they kill him. But the death isn't ruled a murder—and might never have been if one of the gang—a cadging sybarite named Bunny Corcoran—hadn't shown signs of cracking under the secret's weight. And so he too is dispatched. The narrator, a blank-slate Californian named Richard Pepen chronicles the coverup. But if you're thinking remorse-drama, conscience masque, or even semi-trashy who'll-break-first? page-turner, forget it: This is a straight gee-whiz, first-to-have-ever-noticed college novel—"Hampden College, as a body, was always strangely prone to hysteria. Whether from isolation, malice, or simple boredom, people there were far more credulous and excitable than educated people are generally thought to be, and this hermetic, overheated atmosphere made it a thriving black petri dish of melodrama and distortion." First-novelist Tartt goes muzzy when she has to describe human confrontations (the murder, or sex, or even the ping-ponging of fear), and is much more comfortable in transcribing aimless dorm-room paranoia or the TV shows that the malefactors anesthetize themselves with as fate ticks down. By telegraphing the murders, Tartt wants us to be continually horrified at these kids—while inviting us to semi-enjoy their manneristic fetishes and refined tastes. This ersatz-Fitzgerald mix of moralizing and mirror-looking (Jay McInerney shook and poured the shaker first) is very 80's—and in Tartt's strenuous version already seems dated, formulaic. Les Nerds du Mal—and about as deep (if not nearly as involving) as a TV movie.

Pub Date: Sept. 16, 1992

ISBN: 1400031702

Page Count: 592

Publisher: Knopf

Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010

Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 1, 1992

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