Wonderfully cosy yet powerful short story that was very pleasant to read approaching the festive season. Addressing and condemning the ability of people to ignore the suffering of those less fortunate, through the misguided belief that they are a "different" kind of people compared to themselves.
The writing is the star of this book above all, highlighting the beauty in simple everyday things and people in ways that invoke vivid imagery that forces you to feel. I particularly enjoy the use of weather throughout the book, the pervasive cold of the Catholic church contrasted with the empathetic warm coal merchant.
A good history lesson on a topic I had little knowledge of prior, but ended far too quickly. I was genuinely shocked when there wasn't at least a final chapter after the last page which left me feeling a tad bit dissatisfied toward the end.
Absolutely still worth a read and the writer is an extraordinary talent and I look forward to exploring her other work.
Favourite lines (pretty spoil free)
"Before long, he caught a hold of himself and concluded that nothing ever did happen again; to each was given days and chances which wouldn't come back around. And wasn't it sweet to be where you were and let it remind you of the past for once, despite the upset, instead of always looking on into the mechanics of the days and the trouble ahead, which might never come."
"Furlong did and did not know, he found himself asking was there any point in being alive without helping one another? Was it possible to carry on along through all the years, the decades, through an entire life, without once being brave enough to go against what was there and yet call yourself a Christian, and face yourself in the mirror"
"his fear more than outweighed every other feeling but in his foolish heart he not only hoped but legitimately believed that they would manage."
Favourite Quotes (spoil free)
"Why wouldn't you tell someone you loved them? Once you loved someone, you repeated it until they were tired of hearing it. You said it until it ceased to have meaning. Why not not course, you goddamn did."
"She had once read in a book about consciousness that over the years, the human brain makes an AI version of your loved ones."
"As Sadie spoke, Sam was reminded of a winter afternoon, many years ago, and of commuters clogging up the train station, blocking his path. At the time, they'd seemed like impediments to him, but maybe he'd been thinking of them the wrong way. What makes a person want to shiver in a train station for nothing more than the promise of a secret image? But then, what makes a person drive down an unmarked road in the middle of the night? Maybe it was the willingness to play that hinted at a tender, eternally newborn part in all humans. Maybe it was the willingness to play that kept one from despair."
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