Setin Caerphilly, a sleepy castle town in South Wales, Thomas Morris's debut story collection offers vivid and moving glimpses into the lives of some of its inhabitants - the lost, lonely and bemused. These ten stories feature people who, like all of us, know where they are, but don't know what they're doing.
Calling all: - Sally Rooney fans - speculative fiction enjoyers - people who seek out content no one really knows about, for pretentiousness reasons - title appreciators - short story aficionados - general readers???
In other words I can't believe how underrated this book is.
I've become a real good-line-underliner recently, but I borrowed this from someone, and was so overwhelmed by goodness and wanting to remember that I wrote everything I loved on my bookmark.
Baby, I filled that bad boy up well before the ending.
This isn't a five star because there was definitely range in quality in stories for me, but it is 4.5 for still being excellent.
Fugue and Nos Da ruined my life.
Bottom line: My most insane reason for reading a book = decision rewarded.
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i think i'm broken.
books never used to make me cry and now look at me.
review to come / 4.5 at least
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it's always "i would read this author's grocery list" this and "they're an auto-buy author that."
but i'm out here reading books just because the author is friends with sally rooney.
These perceptive, melancholic stories are set in the small Welsh town of Caerphilly. The characters are aimless and lonely, unsure of themselves. They are all trying to figure life out and discovering that there are no easy answers.
The standout for me was Fugue, in a which a woman returns to her family home at Christmas. Now a successful journalist in Edinburgh, she is at once drawn to the place of her childhood and dismayed by the scenes she encounters. She seems relieved to have escaped and yet there is something intangible that pulls her back to this dead-end town. The disturbing house party she reluctantly attends has really stuck with me. I also enjoyed all the boys, a vivid account of a Welsh stag weekend in Dublin. As somebody who works across the Liffey from the raucous Temple Bar district, I can personally vouch for the authenticity of its depiction.
Morris is a writer of real talent, with a keen eye for the little details of everyday existence. Sensitive and searching, he perfectly captures the claustrophobia and disillusionment of life in a small town. I look forward to reading more from him.
I am so bored of contemporary fiction's stream of novels about over-educated, sassy metropolitan writers trying to write novels (and their conversations with their sassy confidants and lovers about the difficulties they face writing novels) - see Cusk, Lerner, Heti, etc, etc. I genuinely feel that the dilemmas a novelist faces are not universal or even that interesting. I'm not sure there's much any of us can learn from the effusions of creative writing tutors in Williamsburg coffee shops. Take me to Planet Earth, please.
So, when I do come across something from a 'normal', provincial milieu with 'normal', everyday characters facing 'normal' dilemmas, it feels like something blisteringly fresh. I read (Irish) Colin Barrett's 'Young Skins' a few weeks ago and that had this effect - note too that Irish contemporary literature is experiencing the absolute opposite; they write novels about recessions and provincial social breakdown and domestic grit.
I really enjoyed this - for precisely this domesticity. Again: small lives; small settings. Echoes of Alan Bleasdale or, more recently, young Joe Dunthorne and the always marvellous Jon McGregor. Video stores and garages; Iceland and burger joints. There's a flatness of tone, yes, and a narrowness of view, but that's the point, right. The sheer fact of it being all set in Caerphilly (bar a trip to Dublin) endeared me too: we get several references to the castle and the same residential streets. The final story 'Nos Da' was the tricksier outrider - part ghosty, part dystopian - a strong, imaginative set piece (while, again, still very domestic).
A promising first collection. I've already a bought someone a copy. More, please.
Alright, so I'm not from South Wales, but I grew up in a town about the same size as Caerphilly. I have never been able to accurately describe to friends from cities just what it was like to be trapped there - as someone who decided early on that they had their sights set on bigger places. In a way, reading these stories, set in Caerphilly, felt like coming home. This surprised me.
But the characters in this are not portrayed patronisingly. As far as they're concerned, Caerphilly could be London. None of them express a desire to leave. There is enough going on in Caerphilly. The reader believes it, too.
There were two stories that didn't quite do it for me, but the others had me hanging onto every word with their familiar observations of stuff that's so easily ignored - in fact, stuff we try not to let our minds wander to at all. I think that's why there were quite a few moments in the book where I felt jarred, even though most of the events were pretty mundane.
Something that struck me is how places like Caerphilly - all around Britain in general - are seen from the outside in. Yeah, you may have the standard local castle, but nobody visits it for its historical merit. Instead, it's just a meeting point where the town's youths get up to no good.
One more thing I liked: the shift of perspective in each story. Good mix of 1st, 2nd and 3rd person.
cause the older you get, all the people you meet have so much shit going on. and you’ve got your own shit too. it just piles up. and then you’ve got your shit, and they’ve got their shit, and well, it’s all just shit
A collection of ten painfully relatable short stories about love, death, grief, mental ill-health and youth in a small town in South Wales.
Really enjoyed these - from a stag do in Dublin, losing family members to mental illness, to mid-life crisis, Morris captures the absurdity in the ordinariness of everyday life perfectly.
For an author's debut this was quite impressive. Fugue and "all the boys" were the standouts for me. Great insight into mental illness and the plague of uncertainty that's rampant across the world. A strong comparison could be made to Colin Barrett's Young Skins but I don't think it's a perfect fit. I would gladly have read more on several of these characters.
When a short story collection is excellent, it is hard work for a reader. I've said this before. Novels, once the momentum has begun, are easier to navigate, but a book of stories can be a roller coaster, requiring introduction, involvement, and absolution, and 20 pages or so later, it starts again. For me, the best way to read such a collection is in pieces, taking my time between other books, which is why in order to do it justice, it takes so long for me to complete.
Set in the actual Welsh town of Caerphilly, each of these gems (one exception) is a gritty slice of life, a fly-on-the-wall, ear-to-the-keyhole look at the population of this town. Having never heard of it, I looked it up which I recommend to anyone not familiar with its layout, the importance of the Castle and its moat, accounting for its status as a tourist destination. There is also a disused coalpit which plays a large part in one of the stories, but for the most part, these are the inhabitants of the town, dealing with their everyday struggles. There is a Hangover-type story of a stag party taking place in Dublin, but all the others involve either residents or returnees. If this sounds grim, it can be viewed as such, or as I felt -- slices of life presented with uncanny wisdom by a talented young writer.
In a collection of Welsh stories, Morris give us a panoptic view of Caerphilly through the people who live and breathe the city. I found sediments of Ali Smith and Armistead Maupin in these tales which balance the tragic and the comic near perfectly. Being a Welsh writer who lives in Dublin, Morris is able to mix the blood of Irish humour and Welsh humour and make a flea of his own.
súbor poviedok nesúci názov "We don't know what we are doing" je presným stelesnením svojho názvu. v každej poviedke sledujeme príbeh iného človeka s unikátnymi myšlienkovými pochodmi, ktoré zvýrazňujú autorovu snahu orientácie sa na bežných, či menej bežných ľudí. vnímame ich nefiltrované postrehy, pocity, absenciu či nadbytok sebauvedomenia. zaujímavé je, že niektoré postavy sa v priebehu zbierky vracali v rôznych štádiách ich životov, nikdy nie však príliš nasilne či očividne, vždy asi takým spôsobom, akým sa nám ľudia v kruhoch motajú v živote. striedanie autorského hlasu a rozpravacskej perspektívy od seba odlišovalo poviedky a podtrhavalo ideu individuality každej z postáv. zaujímavý bol aj prejav veľmi jemného magického realizmu, ktorý bol skôr pretavením osobnej neistoty postáv a ich úvah o veciach komplexnejších, než sú oni sami ako napríklad strata, smrť, záhrobie, alebo aj taká bežná alienácia od osôb nám najbližším. toto opakujem v každej mojej recenzii, no k tejto knihe sa NAOZAJ budem musieť vrátiť, lebo som si istá, že som prehliadla mnoho detailov a prepojení. to je však pravdepodobne zámerom autora, keďže už pri prvom čítaní cítiť vrstvenie, ktoré sa dá úplne pochopiť s istým odstupom.
I'm not really a short stories girl. I like books about people that know where they are (most of the time), but don't know what they're doing. The characters felt really aimless, stuck and lonely , trying to discover what will happen next. And it felt really relatable. The stories 'Fugue' (really recommend when you feel so lost in life or your relationship) '17', 'Clap Hands' and 'Big Pit' really hit me in my core.
This quote my god... I just lay on my bed and bawled my eyes out: "In fairness to Emma, whenever we run in to each other, she'll always stop for a chat. But the conversation is different now. It never really feels solid - it's like we're heaping snow on top of more snow, on top of a shaky mountain. Our words are light in case of avalanche." - p.224
We Don't Know What We're Doing is the debut short story collection by Thomas Morris. First published in 2015, it was chosen by one of my favourite authors, Ali Smith, as one of her books of the year. She writes that this collection is 'Heart-hurtingly acute, laugh-out-loud funny, and not just a book of the year for me but one of the most satisfying collections I've read for years.' Colm Toibin deems it 'really impressive and memorable', and it has also been highly praised by a number of publications; the Observer, for instance, calls it 'brilliantly judged... a quiet masterstroke.' For me, the collection ticked so many boxes, and as I particularly enjoy discovering new-to-me short story authors, I snapped up a copy as soon as I saw one in a branch of Fopp.
Set in the 'sleepy castle town' of Caerphilly in southern Wales, this collection of ten stories 'offers vivid and moving glimpses into the lives of some of its inhabitants - the lost, lonely and bemused.' Each protagonist is troubled in some way. One of the protagonists in the opening story, 'Bolt' calls Caerphilly a 'paradox', in that 'it only looks nice when you're away from it.' I have read rather a lot of fiction set in Wales, but this collection felt a little different, in that it is based around a town, rather than taking place in a purely rural setting. I found it most interesting to read something more urban in character, the town used as it is as a focal point which connects its disparate inhabitants. Caerphilly is referenced many times throughout the stories; it is a presence always there, and always discernible.
Each of the stories in We Don't Know What We're Doing offer up tiny, realistic slices of life. There are characters here going through complicated breakups, suffering at work, trying to come to terms with grief, or in less than perfect relationships. Morris focuses upon the minutiae of life, and those things which have the power to change someone, sometimes irrevocably. His prose and plotlines are sometimes startling relatable. In 'Castle View', for instance, Morris describes the sleeplessness of his main character: 'It's been four months now since he started at the school, and he hasn't been sleeping well. He dreams of losing teeth and being chased, and in the mornings he's disappointed by the obviousness of these dreams. In the night, his wife talks in her sleep. There are times when he wakes to hear her speaking a kind of Russian-sounding language. For a while he tried to stay awake when it happened. He thought she might disclose something important. Another man's name, perhaps. But no, just more gibberish. Where do they come from, he thinks, all these chains of nonsense?'
Much sadness and despair penetrates both the town and its inhabitants; even the characters of comparative privilege here are suffering in some way. Throughout, Morris is revealing of his intriguing cast of characters, and often of the way in which their surroundings impact upon them. Many of them have a lot going on in their lives, and act contrary to societal expectations. Some of Morris' protagonists are likeable, others not so much, but each can be believed and understood.
Throughout, I really admired Morris' writing, particular with regard to the way in which he uses similes. In 'Bolt', a group of young girls teeter past on 'heels the size of Coke cans', and in 'Fugue', 'side-on, your father's eyes seem like two swollen capital Ds - glassy and unreal.' He knows instinctively the number of details to reveal about a character or scene, and I was intrigued throughout by these tightly plotted tales. There are dark edges to every single one of the stories; these range from a secret and suppressed memories, to the dislocation one might feel when coming back to their childhood home after time away.
I admired the use of different narrative perspectives used throughout the collection, and found the variety here engaging. One of the stories, 'Fugue', is told using the second person perspective, and begins as follows: 'On the way back from Cardiff, your father asks questions about Edinburgh and Tim. You answer vaguely, and look out the window as the landmarks of approaching home draw near. You haven't been back in a year, and you'd forgotten that these places... even exist.'
We Don't Know What We're Doing is a transporting and assured debut collection. Morris already has a strong authorial voice, and it seems as though he effortlessly brings each one of his characters, many of which are unnamed, to life. We Don't Know What We're Doing is the first work by a promising voice in fiction; it is an impressive collection, which reads like the work of a seasoned author. The collection is a cohesive one, in which several characters cleverly slip in and out of other stories. I for one am very much looking forward to Morris' future publications.
Okay can we please talk about the cover, it’s so pretty, I really liked it, also I liked the idea of the concept of the book, but that’s all I liked about it lol. I was really disappointed from this book, I don’t know I expected just more maybe it just wasn’t the book for me, but it sounded so good but the implementation wasn’t it, unfortunately. For that reason it’s only a 1 ⭐️ star read.
”that’s the hallmark of maturity: ambivalence—to be able to see the good and the bad, to be double-minded.” this was fine, but very surface level in my opinion. some stories i connected more to than others, but none of them gave me any new thoughts to think about.
one thing i liked was the interconnected characters! i think two characters were in more stories than one, which i really liked. i wanted to make a diagram to see all the connections, but i wanted even more of it. i would’ve liked the see the homeless man, the ex-girlfriend and the ex-boyfriend their stories as well.
last thing i will say is that this book talked a lot about genitals for the fact that its around 250 pages.
i picked up this book sorely for the fact sally rooney thanks this author in her acknowledgments in normal people…so i figured i would give it a go as it seemed pretty interesting and could be inspiring. truthfully, i only enjoyed two stories in this story collection….17 and nos das. the book was hard for me to read at times and i didn’t understand a lot of it. genuinely, some of the stories made completely no sense but i guess it makes sense cause these people have no clue what they are doing.
Bolt: 3.5 Castle View: 4 Fugue: 5 Strange Traffic: 4 17: 5 Clap Hands: 4 Big Pit: 4 It took me until this story to realize the characters are popping up in multiple stories or maybe it’s just Garett? All the boys: 4.5 How sad, how lovely: 4 Nos Da: 4
This was a nice short story collection and it deals with some depressing issues but my main problem was that I didn't particularly care for most of the characters
This could have been really good, but sadly it wasn’t for me. I got about 3/4 of the way and stopped reading. I just found the writing really uninspiring :’(
Read this only because the author is friends with sally rooney and I was seeking her vibe. My welsh friend texted me about it and it reminded me that I started it last summer and still had 2 more stories left. 4 stars because I know I enjoyed it, but the stories weren’t very memorable.
la verdad que me ha gustado mucho. es verdad que algunos relatos son un poco más pesados que otros, pero en general es una lectura reconfortante sobre cómo todos, da igual la edad que tengamos, no sabemos muy bien hacia dónde vamos o qué queremos
A collection of short stories that someone on tiktok recommended to fans of Sally Rooney. They all take place in the same town of Caerphilly through the eyes of the people that live there. Morris does well in painting these tragic but comedic stories, but the second half of the book takes a turn into speculative fiction and gross bodily descriptions (a little Otessa Moshfegh Lapvona!) which I didn't love. I didn't think they had the same tender voice, they get grimier and more science-fiction-y and I didn't like them as much. Favourite stories: Bolt, Castle View, Fugue, 17 (basically the first five stories) Least favourite: the last five stories.