"Small Things Like These" by Claire Keegan

On the one hand, there's nothing altogether shocking about Small Things Like These, which revolves around an Irishman's realization that the convent near his home is abusing young women. Revelations like these about the Magdalene laundries and other abuses perpetrated by the Catholic Church have made the news and been turned into a number of recent movies and books. The increasing visibility of such stories don't reduce their horrors at all, but it does mean a new book on the topic needs to do more than just reveal the atrocities.

Fortunately, Keegan's Small Things Like These does just that, spending little time on describing the abuse--most of it is assumed, unsaid--and instead focusing on her protagonist, Bill Furlong. Bill is a good man; he's a loving father and husband, a respected boss, and a reliable citizen. The only "stain" on his character is his parentage: his mother gave birth young, out of wedlock, and Bill never learned who the father was. Still, he was protected from the worst treatment as a child of an unwed mother because of his mother's employer, who protected and cared for her and Bill.

Bill is a good man, but like most people, his day-to-day is consumed by the mundane of tasks to be done. He tries to find time to think and make sense of the world around him, but the pace of daily life is relentless. When he is forced to confront the convent's abuse directly, he does as most do and falls into politeness and easy escapes.

Bill, his wife, and his daughters are comfortable, but they're not secure. They can buy small indulgences for Christmas, but Bill knows a blown car engine will mean putting off new house windows for several more years. That precariousness--the sense that any good in life can be undone in a moment--shapes most of Bill's thoughts. 

Nevertheless, in the end, Bill makes the "right" choice and rescues one of the girls. Though he repeatedly acknowledges that this isn't an easy victory, as there will be repercussions for his actions, I still was initially disappointed with Keegan's book. After all, she chose to finish on a high note with Bill's heroism, which felt like it overshadowed the enormous coda that there is no pat happy ending.

But then I thought about it a little more. Keegan's Small Things Like These isn't a novel, or really even a novella. It's a short story, which I say not to criticize the publisher's decision to print as a standalone book, but rather to note that its success relies on the short story form. In short stories, nothing is resolved, as they're typically only a snapshot of a character, a setting, a dilemma. It's a moment in time when a decision is made. To that end, Keegan's made a moving portrait of a man trying to do good, not just out of sympathy for his mother (though that plays a role), but because he recognizes the importance of "daily kindnesses" and the value of allowing "the best bit" of oneself to "shin[e] forth, and surfac[e]."

(as an additional note, though any group of stories doesn't tell all stories, it's increasingly hard to believe the Catholic Church has done any good in the world)