Vital, masterly written, accurate in the transfer of shades of emotions stories of the Booker-2009 laureate.
Munro’s stories are living life presented without filters and distortions. Her characters are housewives and students, aging widows and recovering alcoholics, former hippies and violinists. Their existence is habitual, measured and calm … until a certain moment – when they find themselves in a situation of psychological pressure or violence (from men, which is significant). Munro chooses tense plots with sudden, sometimes tragic twists: a widow, faced with a thief at home, ascribes to herself the murder of her rival and thereby saves her life; returning home after a quarrel with her husband, the woman finds the children strangled by him; the old host asks the guest to undress before dinner, read poetry aloud naked and not cross his legs …
But even about the most terrible, Munro speaks calmly and honestly, masterfully conveying the complex emotions of the characters in exceptional circumstances with stingy means of storytelling. And her restrained, everyday intonation contrasts with the plot and balances it. There is no open clash between the male and female worlds. Tragedy is unavoidable. As if by chance, the shell of well-being cracks, but the world does not collapse.
Munro women are exceptionally flexible and able to adapt to circumstances. They prefer to cope on their own, rejecting the help of friends and psychologists. And they are able to accept reality, no matter how strange or painful it may be. What is it – their strength or their weakness? Munro gives no answers, no advice, no moral assessments, for her there are no right and wrong, winners and losers. She seems to say: yes, life brings surprises, yes, there is a place in it for minor troubles and a real tragedy, but it’s worth letting it take its course, and then time will put everything in its place.
Translation from English by Andrey Stepanov
Alphabet, 352 p.