Deft ... The short form is ideal for Tóibín’s skills: he’s a writer for whom every word must do its job, and he tells these lives with efficiency, directing the reader only gently, and leaving space for us to complete the work ... There’s no sense of this book as scraps gathered, of secondary work that would not have been published without an established author’s name. Even if they had been discovered anonymously, floating in a bottle — off the coast of Ireland, say, or Spain — these stories would still astonish and delight.
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