Dear Life

A 3.5 star read. Interesting but unfortunately unremarkable. Munro leads you down a certain path in each story to end her stories on a different note leaving you to contemplate different perspectives of life loss love and death. However many stories in this collection were repetitive in structure and not many characters were memorable in the end. I enjoyed the first few stories but as the collection progressed I slowly lost interest in the individual stories. As a collection the stories complement the theme of everyday life and the collection has a good mix of male and female protagonists. However the collection became stagnant for me as the subtle ending of the stories and the repetitive feel of the characters left me unimpressed and slightly disinterested. I like Alice Munro's writing style but I wanted to feel a more passionate reaction one way or another to the collection but I felt it ended up coming across for me as a bit of a damp squib. I would like to read more of Munro's work to see how it would compare to this collection as I am not well read when it comes to short story collection and maybe that's why this collection didn't enrapture me.

Oh boy. Like, this was the first Alice Munro book I've ever read (listened to), and I get it–Alice Munro can write a short story. I don't think audiobook is the right medium for this though, or at least not with these 2 readers? It took me forever to get through this because I had it in the car but they made me sleepy. So boring. Still, obviously, I can admire the quality of her prose.

It took me four months to finish this book. It has often been said that those who write clearly and simply are better than those who prefer to swathe their prose in ambiguity. Alice Munro definitely falls in the former category, although I have come to prefer the latter.

This book is proof that something can be created from nothing, that ordinary stories are just as capable of being magical as ones that appear to be extraordinary. Here is a form of magic I find hard to swallow, but I can still feel her power. And it makes me hope that, some day, I too will be able to prize the clarity of simplicity over the polish of eloquence.

Sadly, I still feel that a story isn't as important as the way it is told. I need a whirlwind of revelations to sweep me way. The power of language has not been unleashed here. I need to be PERSUADED that there is beauty in life, not coldly informed.