Christina Stead (1902–1983) was an Australian writer regarded as one of the twentieth century’s master novelists. Stead spent most of her writing life in Europe and the United States, and her varied residences acted as the settings for a number of her novels. She is best known for The Man Who Loved Children (1940), which was praised by author Jonathan Franzen as a “crazy, gorgeous family novel” and “one of the great literary achievements of the twentieth century.” Stead died in her native Australia in 1983.
I had not intended to actually read this entire book - others were waiting - but I found Stead's pieces curiously compelling and read it all. She doesn't waste words, but doesn't leave out things either. The topics were sometimes weird! I remember the grandmother with a parrot that called 14 people when someone beat the dinner gong, even long after the children had grown up and moved away. The story of the man who tried to organize the tailors in a small Polish town. The little girls of a school who know all the names of local jails ("Where do the charming little balls of fluff, their mothers' happiness, gather this awful lore?")
The best discovery of last summer. These stories are very original, in just about every way. The only writer that she brings to mind is Katherine Mansfield. There is the same sort of gentle quirkiness. Everything is a little off, unexpected, coy but not cloying. The stories aren’t memorable, mostly, I suppose because what makes them a joy is the way they’re written, not what they’re about.