“The Exercise” - 7
- Deeply felt, but a dime a dozen as it goes with these adolescent-perspective reflections on the vagaries of paternal love, and the mysteries of its awkward and sometimes violent expressions, and the big hearted expectation of its reciprocity from the child’s perspective, who knows little, save that they love this big thing and that it too can, strangely, be hurt. McLaverty writes one of those, and it’s not bad, so far as they go.
“A Rat and Some Renovations” - 9
- It’s not even that there are hidden depths beneath the superficial narrative — it’s just that the story itself, straightforward and easy, tells a true story of of true intentions, and there it is. STORY: some Americans (we take it to be distant relatives) are coming to visit the old country, and the Irish protagonists are tidying up and renovating for the “Yanks,” bespeaking a shame for their déclassé old world accoutrements. That kitchen redo brings in a rat, which threatens the impression they want to make. There it is. Gotta get rid of it.
“St. Paul Could Hot the Nail on the Head” - 8.25
- It is not belabored ambiguity in his not giving any firm stance on the relevant emotional issues at the core of his stories, but instead, so it seems, an unwillingness to move beyond the humanness of the characters, as they fill the jar he’s set out for them, no more no less. Here, his concerns are several: decorum, exhaustion, religious sensibility. At each turn, we get a sense of one, but from the median, not the fringes, as so many are wont to do. And it’s more effective for it. STORY: tired wife meets with distant priest relative, who is not an ideal guest, and she parries his mild inquiries into the lack of religiosity of her husband, and the nature of her own faith. To the end realizing that he doesn’t have a place to stay, and is therefore expecting generosity on her part must arouse little sympathy, as she’s been given little reason to give it happily. But she does, and without even internal hesitation. Indeed.