BIG GIRL, SMALL TOWN

In a small town in post-conflict Northern Ireland, a young woman working in a chip shop observes the lives—and contemplates the secrets—of her regular customers as she attempts to make sense of her own.

Majella O’Neill—who lives with her alcoholic mother, longs for her missing father, and mourns her recently murdered grandmother—is the cleareyed narrator of a novel that spans just one week, from workday Monday to pub-night Sunday, but that also returns intermittently to bittersweet scenes from childhood. The plot hinges, quite shakily, on the recent and brutal murder of Majella’s grandmother, and its turning point is the reading of her will. But the novel’s vitality resides in Majella’s deadpan observations (“She got her timing from her da. He always caught glasses before they hit the floor, her ma before she passed out”) and in the acutely replicated dialogue that constitutes much of the narrative (“What about ye, Iggy? Ah’m all right. What about you? Grand. Surviving”). Like a stage play, the novel unfolds in nightly scenes at a chip shop called A Salt and Battered! where Majella serves the drunks, waifs, and assorted locals that the reader comes to know as well as she does. The only disappointment is an abrupt ending that brings the curtain down too quickly.

An irreverent portrait of small-town Northern Ireland that is both bleakly and uproariously funny.