‘A moving and intriguing thought experiment about loneliness and human connections. Blaney has a real talent for capturing the texture of everyday life.’ - Justine Roberts, founder and CEO of Mumsnet
‘I would recommend this book to anyone who’s looking for something a little bit different from the crowd. Accessible, engaging, full of ideas and humanity, The Anchoress won’t disappoint’ - BookEmStevo
‘Touching and believable… a beautiful little book’ - Rebekah Lattin-Rawstrone, author of Home
‘In the Middle Ages there were women who had themselves walled up … Anchoresses, they were called.’
Maggie has locked herself in her closet and she won’t come out. Lying in the cool, dark space by herself is surprisingly soothing. Visitors come and go – some more welcome than others. There’s Norman the nosy neighbour, who’s worried her strange behaviour may be lowering the tone of the area. A police officer drops by to offer advice on home security and issues a strange invitation. Then a reporter arrives, inviting Maggie to tell her story to the local paper. And there’s the charming pizza delivery man, who shoots the breeze with her before sliding a thin-crust with anchovies under the door. As Maggie gradually opens up about her past, her reasons for taking refuge in her closet become clear.
What will it take for her to face the world again?
The Anchoress is a story about memory, childhood, grief and acceptance. It’s about what happens when you shut out the world and rediscover yourself.
I was born in England to parents who'd recently moved from Belfast. They were on their way to Tasmania, but that's another story (life). I'm the second of five children--two brothers, two sisters. Since studying Classics at college I've moved around a bit. I taught English for a year in Lisbon, had a short, dull career in reference publishing, and traveled in India, Australia and New Zealand. Then in early 1996 I ended up in Hong Kong, on a nice little island called Lamma. My experience of living and working in Hong Kong are the substance of my novella, Handover.
From Hong Kong I moved direct to Eugene, Oregon (cue culture shock!) where I studied for an MFA in Creative Writing. Back in London, I taught, wrote, and met my lovely wife Karen who's from Louisville Kentucky. She brought me back to America, first to New Jersey (where we both still work at Rutgers) then to Allentown, PA. That about brings me up to date.
I struggled to get into this novella at first - I was unconvinced initially by the characters and found the dialogue slightly stilted - but I'm glad I persevered because once it gets going, it's quietly gripping - having stalled several times in the opening chapters, I read the rest in one sitting. The story of Maggie, a woman who decides, for seemingly no reason, to retreat to the closet in her bathroom, it's a small book that isn't afraid to deal with big issues - love, loss, the lies we tell ourselves and the lives we settle for - and as you read on, Maggie's story unravels, revealing what drove her to such an odd decision. For me, ironically perhaps, it's when the book goes beyond the confines of the closet to examine the ripple effect of her actions that it becomes really compelling, the reactions of the world outside a telling commentary on modern life.
What would happen if a woman one day decided to shut herself away from the world in a closet? From this simple idea, Paul Blaney's intriguing novella launches into an exploration of what that might be like, why she might do it – even when she doesn't know herself – and how the world around her might react. It leads to a revelation both for her and for the reader. She becomes a modern day Descartes or Montaigne, withdrawing from the wider world to explore herself and discover afresh what seemed familiar.
Beautifully written, Blaney picks a delicate line between narrative realism and thought experiment – it is a story that could only have been told as a short novel and, as such, the author successfully displays the weighty potential of the form.
This book surprised me. The blurb intrigued me but I wasn't really sure what to expect. Even while reading it I still couldn't really tell where the story was going, but that's probably why I enjoyed reading it: it was unexpected, intriguing and challenging. Maggie deals with a lot of difficult questions about people, relationships, life in general. Even if you're not in the same place as Maggie, her questions still challenge you to think. The philosophical reference to Socrates was dead-on. I'm not to sure of the ending though, without giving away too much spoilers. I feel like Maggie's story isn't over... I felt like there was something more... like maybe "Pizza Guy" and Collin are more alike than Maggie realizes? http://mssbookshelf.blogspot.be/
At the end of this charming and thought-provoking novella, the protagonist Maggie's mysterious friend PG goads her into playing a game of "Maggie Could", a character-specific version of "What If" ("Maggie could move to Kyrgyzstan and pick apples. Maggie could sell her blue car car and buy a red motorbike." etc.) This book is in itself the realization of just such an exercise: Maggie could move in to her closet and refuse to come out, using the time to work out the psychological problems that are holding her back. Kudos to skilled writer Blaney for taking this quirky idea and going all-out. I especially enjoyed the way the story hangs in the balance between magic and realism.
Two and a half stars. An interesting idea, and a quick read, but not really a great book. Although, I do agree that sometimes we need solitude to attain clarity.
This is an unusual book for me in that it is one of the few books that I have read twice. It is not very long and I felt that a second reading was beneficial and gave me more insight into and understanding of the protagonist Maggie who spends most of the novella locked away in her walk in closet/bathroom. In the womb-like darkness of her hideaway she hears voices - some real and some, perhaps not - as she reflects upon her childhood, her artistic mother and a remote cliff top tower in which her father once attempted to settle the family. Paul Blaney's writing is highly evocative and the reader shares Maggie's darkness in the claustrophobic atmosphere of the L-shaped room. It is not all darkness and, like Maggie, we warm to the light relief and charm provided by the philosophical pizza delivery man who proffers pearls of wisdom whilst sliding pizzas under the crack beneath the door. Other voices and visitors are not quite as welcome. Maggie's isolation and contemplation provides her with the space and time that she needs to come to terms with her past whilst outside in the real world her unusual circumstances become news in her community. This is an extremely thought provoking novella and I enjoyed it very much (both times).