Little things like these

BOOKER PRIZE NOMINEE

It's 1985, and we're in a town in Ireland. Christmas is approaching, a busy time for Bill Furlong, a timber and coal supplier. Early one morning, he delivers an order to the local monastery - and is confronted with the darkness and complicit silence of a town under the control of the church.

In a small town in Ireland, Bill Furlong is trying to fill his customers' orders as the year draws to a close. At the helm of a small company and father of five girls, he has managed to make a living on his own. His mother, a maid, became pregnant at fifteen but, contrary to what usually happened, she was not thrown out of the house with her baby. In this respect, Bill was luckier than other children. On Christmas Eve, Bill makes his last delivery to the convent - where, under the pretext of educating them, the nuns exploit girls of "loose morals" and put them to work in the convent's laundry. What Bill discovers there, and the difficult decision they lead him to, is narrated by the author with such restrained grace that this beautiful text becomes both enigmatic and shocking.

A masterpiece that was rightly praised by critics.

THE PRESS WROTE
The meticulous attention to detail in characters, setting, memory, and dramatic moments create a story you'll want to read again and again. Its deceptively simple language is impeccable.
Boston Globe

This extraordinary short story somehow defies the gravity of its subject matter and soars into the everyday, luminous present. The details take on a supernatural clarity. The white light of a winter afternoon, the mist over a river, a woman opening the door of a bakery, a child holding his father's hand: We see these images and feel their persistent presence as we enter the life of an ordinary person in an ordinary place.
Wall Street Journal

Keegan is the goddess of small things. Her ability to create entire worlds with just a few words, an entire relationship through just a few interactions, is nothing short of miraculous. Little Things Like These assures us that we are all capable of doing the right thing, and that kindness, like misery, is contagious. It is a literary state of grace.