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How The Light Gets In
How the Light Gets In is the debut collection from award winning short story writer, Clare Fisher. A book of very short stories that explores the spaces between light and dark and how we find our way from one to the other. From buffering Skype chats and the truth about beards, to fried chicken shops and the things smartphones make you less likely to do when alone in a public place, Fisher paints a complex, funny and moving portrait of contemporary British life.
192 pages, Paperback
First published June 7, 2018
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249 people want to read
About the author
Clare Fisher
4 books84 followersClare Sita Fisher was born in Tooting, south London in 1987. After accidentally getting obsessed with writing fiction when she should have been studying for a BA in History at the University of Oxford, Clare completed an MA in Creative and Life Writing at Goldsmiths College, University of London.
An avid observer of the diverse area of south London in which she grew up, Clare's writing is inspired by her long-standing interest in social exclusion and the particular ways in which it affects vulnerable women and girls. All The Good Things is her first novel. She now lives, writes and works as a bookseller in Leeds.
An avid observer of the diverse area of south London in which she grew up, Clare's writing is inspired by her long-standing interest in social exclusion and the particular ways in which it affects vulnerable women and girls. All The Good Things is her first novel. She now lives, writes and works as a bookseller in Leeds.
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Displaying 1 - 25 of 25 reviews
January 22, 2019
“Learning to live with cracks – both my own and other people’s – will win me no prizes. But I don’t care. I’ve been doing it for years now and it feels like life”
This short-story collection is published by the UK small press Influx Press “Influx Press is an independent publisher based in London, committed to publishing innovative and challenging fiction”.
In 2018 they won the Republic of Consciousness Prize (for which I was a judge) for Eley William’s brilliant short story collection “Attrib.” – so I was therefore very interested to read another short story collection from them.
The author of this collection is Clare Fisher – bought up in Tooting she now lives in Leeds and still divides her time between London (she lectures at the Goldsmith – where she took an MA in Creative Writing) and Leeds (where she is studying a PhD in Creative Writing).
Her debut novel was published in 2017, and the origins of this collection go back to 2014 – when she ran a series of creative workshops and then a number of interactive storytelling sessions in Leeds (as part of Light Night Leeds 2014) exploring “the ways in which words can and cannot lead us through the dark – both the literal dark of the winter months and the dark that everyone encounters when life gets hard”.
Her own description of the book is excellent
“This is a collection of very short, or flash, fiction on the theme of light, dark and how we find our way from one to the other. As such, it’s more fragmentary than the novel, and more playful, too; I experimented with different voices and forms, and some of the stories are only a few sentences long. Yet the central concern is the same: where does hope come from? Where does it go? How do we navigate through the literal and the more metaphorical darkness?”
And the book opens with a fridge magnet saying “blessed are the cracked for they let the light in” and the opening quote to my review. I was reminder, perhaps as I read it the same week, of the opening image of Jack Robinson’s Blush and the text “A chink, a gap, a little slippage between me and the other me, the one I am performing - where the blush gets in” and interestingly blushing does appear in one of my favourite pieces “the neurotic”.
The pieces seem divided between London and Leeds – with a clear urban setting in both (the countryside is only really featured as an “other place” which only exacerbates urban tensions (for example in “the thing about sheep” when two siblings reminisce on their parents forced country outings and the brother’s fierce jealousy of the easier life of sheep).
They vary between those which I would interpret as more self-revelatory and written from a Millennial viewpoint (one of my favourites being the excellent neurotic) and those which examine the views and thoughts of others (particularly those marginalised) – with some characters recurring (and possibly overlapping or possibly being variations on themes) such as a trafficked sex worker, a scarred victim of a sex attack and a brother and sister who find out they are not related and try to decide what that means for a potential relationship, the daughter whose two parents look back on their time obsessed with a “divine light” cult.
A recurring piece examines “dark places to watch out for” and there is an excellent examination of insecurity in “things smartphones make you less likely to do when alone, in a public place” which is followed by “things smartphones make you less likely to do when alone, in a private place, with or without other people”.
Overall I found this a very enjoyable collection and one, contrary to the opening quote, I would like to see win prizes.
January 5, 2019
“For much of my childhood, there was this poem magnetted to the fridge: blessed are the cracked for they let the light in.”
Clare Fisher’s debut short-story collection (her debut novel was published in 2017) has been produced by Influx Press, one of the UK’s vibrant small independent publishers:
Notably Influx Press published in 2017 Eley Williams' brilliant Attrib. and other stories, which won both one of the UK's newest literary awards, the Republic of Consciousness Prize (I was on the jury) and one of the oldest, The James Tait Black Prize.
How the Light Gets In is a collection of short pieces (typically 2-3 pages) that together paint a picture of modern English urban life, centered around London, where Fisher was brought up, and Leeds where she now lives), mostly from a millennial perspective.
An example, one of the shorter pieces:
the neurotic
Every time someone refers to her as chilled out, she grins and blushes and shrugs and makes some self-deprecating comment to deflect the attention which, if it were to rest on her any longer, would surely reveal that she is not, in the truth she keeps buttoned under her pretty fitted blouse, in the least chilled-out; she is neurotic. She is so neurotic about not appearing neurotic that she is unable to fall asleep until she has figured out how to arrange the next day so that, from the outside, it appears scattered and empty and random, but from this inside place into which she will never allow anyone else, it is unarguably under control.
Many of the concerns of modern life reappear notably the benefits and hazards of smartphone, including in a piece: “things smartphones make you less likely to do when alone, in a public place” which includes:
Read all visible adverts, free newspapers, leaflets, warning signs, safety advice and strangers’ books, newspapers and diaries; because words, even boring ones, have the magical ability to transport you away from the larger boredom of standing on a cold platform, waiting for a train which a very silly, mostly hidden but nevertheless substantial part of you, hopes will never come.
and there is a later companion piece based on things smartphones may you less likely to do in company.
While written as separate pieces there is a coherence to the collection: sequel pieces, such as the smartphone one, some recurring characters (a trafficked immigrant tricked into sex slavery, who later reappears in a story later in her life) but above all, as the title and my opening quote suggest, the themes of light and darkness and the cracks that open up in modern life.
The language, if I am being critical, suffers by comparison to the stable-mate Attrib, but then given that book’s remaking of language, the same criticism could be levelled at most books. And from a personal view point I felt it spoke to a generation and an experience rather different to my own.
3.5 stars.
Clare Fisher’s debut short-story collection (her debut novel was published in 2017) has been produced by Influx Press, one of the UK’s vibrant small independent publishers:
Influx Press is an independent publisher based in London, committed to publishing innovative and challenging fiction, poetry and creative non-fiction from across the UK and beyond. Formed in 2012, we have published titles ranging from award-nominated fiction debuts and site-specific anthologies to squatting memoirs and radical poetry.
Notably Influx Press published in 2017 Eley Williams' brilliant Attrib. and other stories, which won both one of the UK's newest literary awards, the Republic of Consciousness Prize (I was on the jury) and one of the oldest, The James Tait Black Prize.
How the Light Gets In is a collection of short pieces (typically 2-3 pages) that together paint a picture of modern English urban life, centered around London, where Fisher was brought up, and Leeds where she now lives), mostly from a millennial perspective.
An example, one of the shorter pieces:
the neurotic
Every time someone refers to her as chilled out, she grins and blushes and shrugs and makes some self-deprecating comment to deflect the attention which, if it were to rest on her any longer, would surely reveal that she is not, in the truth she keeps buttoned under her pretty fitted blouse, in the least chilled-out; she is neurotic. She is so neurotic about not appearing neurotic that she is unable to fall asleep until she has figured out how to arrange the next day so that, from the outside, it appears scattered and empty and random, but from this inside place into which she will never allow anyone else, it is unarguably under control.
Many of the concerns of modern life reappear notably the benefits and hazards of smartphone, including in a piece: “things smartphones make you less likely to do when alone, in a public place” which includes:
Read all visible adverts, free newspapers, leaflets, warning signs, safety advice and strangers’ books, newspapers and diaries; because words, even boring ones, have the magical ability to transport you away from the larger boredom of standing on a cold platform, waiting for a train which a very silly, mostly hidden but nevertheless substantial part of you, hopes will never come.
and there is a later companion piece based on things smartphones may you less likely to do in company.
While written as separate pieces there is a coherence to the collection: sequel pieces, such as the smartphone one, some recurring characters (a trafficked immigrant tricked into sex slavery, who later reappears in a story later in her life) but above all, as the title and my opening quote suggest, the themes of light and darkness and the cracks that open up in modern life.
The language, if I am being critical, suffers by comparison to the stable-mate Attrib, but then given that book’s remaking of language, the same criticism could be levelled at most books. And from a personal view point I felt it spoke to a generation and an experience rather different to my own.
3.5 stars.
Read
August 14, 2018Another book from Influx Press that made me go: “REALLY? You can DO that?”, How The Light Gets in is a collection of very short, very lyrical forms from the border between prose poems and short stories. They are funny, they are touching, they capture fleeting moments and feelings that you sometimes don’t notice, never mind being able to name them, and yet when you read them you go: “oh, yeah, I know this”. Love the weaving of motifs (light, cracks), as well as the skillful deployment of details (this is something I notice and enjoy very much when done well), but also, when necessary, of vagueness that allows the reader to insert their own experiences and connect with a particular story more intimately.
June 1, 2018
“the light’s been here all along, it’s always here, it’s just that you’re not always in a place where you can see it.”
How The Light Gets In, by Clare Fisher, is a collection of short stories that shine a light on individual experiences currently being lived in a UK city. They are fresh and at times mordantly funny. They put the reader inside the heads and hearts of the narrators.
textbook burglar offers a description of the feelings of relief, absence and expropriation following a broken relationship. Many of the stories deal with the disconnect between people, particularly those most cared for.
the thing about sheep conveys the need to understand those close to us, and the difficulty in accepting facets that do not segue with curated perceptions. Family members experience the same events differently.
Protagonists balance their desire to fit in with a crowd, the difficulty of doing so, with the easy option of staying home which can then feel like failure. They work hard and gain achievements that they wish others to acknowledge, watching as lesser accomplishments are remarked upon and celebrated by those around them. It is not unfairness but rather bewilderment, an unanswerable how and why.
Most of the stories are a mere page or two in length yet somehow delve into the complexities and variations of living day to day. Smartphones have become companions, the desire to have comments acknowledged online as necessary as to be noticed and accepted elsewhere.
how to talk about potholes looks at the relationship between parents and their grown up children, the concerns and difficulty of communication.
“we do care about our dad and we want to know: does he eat? Does he sleep? Does he feel a part of human life? Does he have hopes and plans for the future? But he will only reply by treating us to a slide show of that week’s most unusual potholes.”
Parents of young children remember how they once lived dangerously, indulged in escapades that they cannot now share.
Although dealing with a contained world these stories are broad in scope, mindful and searingly honest. They question norms and get below the surface. Even the most ordinary lives are coping with a myriad of complications.
This is a young, modern voice that delves deep into the heart of lived experiences in a contemporary city, exposing truths admitted to only in the deepest recesses of thought and feeling. The stories are personal, prolific and visceral. Relatable, readable and recommended.
How The Light Gets In, by Clare Fisher, is a collection of short stories that shine a light on individual experiences currently being lived in a UK city. They are fresh and at times mordantly funny. They put the reader inside the heads and hearts of the narrators.
textbook burglar offers a description of the feelings of relief, absence and expropriation following a broken relationship. Many of the stories deal with the disconnect between people, particularly those most cared for.
the thing about sheep conveys the need to understand those close to us, and the difficulty in accepting facets that do not segue with curated perceptions. Family members experience the same events differently.
Protagonists balance their desire to fit in with a crowd, the difficulty of doing so, with the easy option of staying home which can then feel like failure. They work hard and gain achievements that they wish others to acknowledge, watching as lesser accomplishments are remarked upon and celebrated by those around them. It is not unfairness but rather bewilderment, an unanswerable how and why.
Most of the stories are a mere page or two in length yet somehow delve into the complexities and variations of living day to day. Smartphones have become companions, the desire to have comments acknowledged online as necessary as to be noticed and accepted elsewhere.
how to talk about potholes looks at the relationship between parents and their grown up children, the concerns and difficulty of communication.
“we do care about our dad and we want to know: does he eat? Does he sleep? Does he feel a part of human life? Does he have hopes and plans for the future? But he will only reply by treating us to a slide show of that week’s most unusual potholes.”
Parents of young children remember how they once lived dangerously, indulged in escapades that they cannot now share.
Although dealing with a contained world these stories are broad in scope, mindful and searingly honest. They question norms and get below the surface. Even the most ordinary lives are coping with a myriad of complications.
This is a young, modern voice that delves deep into the heart of lived experiences in a contemporary city, exposing truths admitted to only in the deepest recesses of thought and feeling. The stories are personal, prolific and visceral. Relatable, readable and recommended.
June 1, 2018
This short story collection was excellent. It entertained me in the same way that observational comedy does, because these short stories are born of real life observations.
The stories are grouped together in themes so you know the kind of thing to expect from each section, I really liked that about the structure of this book. They also really vary in length, some being a page and a half or two pages and some being 5 or 6 pages so you get variety as you read.
Due to the fact that each of these stories are different and can be told from different points of view, have different protagonists or are written in a different person, this book was really great for picking up when i had a few minutes to spare and reading through a few of the stories. I also found this book really great to read in between other novels because by the time I was a few stories in, it felt like a bit of a comfort to come back to it.
These stories are all observations on real life so they all featured people and places I could recognise, the information person in Victoria coach station, the person working in Leeds train station. Some of the book also feature different dialects and accents and I love when authors are brave enough to do that and get it right. These stories are mainly set in Leeds or London and I have lived in and around both of those cities and so I could recognise aspects of both and aspects of the characters living there to.
Not all of these stories have a happy ending, or an ending at all but that didn't take away any of my enjoyment of this collection at all. I really enjoyed this book, it was refreshingly honest and would be a really great introduction if you are looking to get into reading short stories or to expand your short story collection.
The stories are grouped together in themes so you know the kind of thing to expect from each section, I really liked that about the structure of this book. They also really vary in length, some being a page and a half or two pages and some being 5 or 6 pages so you get variety as you read.
Due to the fact that each of these stories are different and can be told from different points of view, have different protagonists or are written in a different person, this book was really great for picking up when i had a few minutes to spare and reading through a few of the stories. I also found this book really great to read in between other novels because by the time I was a few stories in, it felt like a bit of a comfort to come back to it.
These stories are all observations on real life so they all featured people and places I could recognise, the information person in Victoria coach station, the person working in Leeds train station. Some of the book also feature different dialects and accents and I love when authors are brave enough to do that and get it right. These stories are mainly set in Leeds or London and I have lived in and around both of those cities and so I could recognise aspects of both and aspects of the characters living there to.
Not all of these stories have a happy ending, or an ending at all but that didn't take away any of my enjoyment of this collection at all. I really enjoyed this book, it was refreshingly honest and would be a really great introduction if you are looking to get into reading short stories or to expand your short story collection.
December 27, 2021
“It’s hard being human; ordinary; freakish; a being with volume and weight; an interminably messy creature; a body which wants things; and a soul whose hunger, it seems, the harder you look up and down and under and over and around and around and through and in the cracks of this city, is never sated”
This debut collection by Clare Fisher is a manual of self-emancipation. Running amok on its pages are pamphlet-sized tales about what we all feel, but are unable to express. Fisher digs up those seemingly trivial things we’ve forgotten, or intentionally misplaced; in a technologically over-saturated, overbearingly mundane world. At times it was eerie – not only in terms of its content, but the fact that the subject matter she confronts is so relatable I felt like an unknowing member of a cast and at any moment someone would jump out and say “Ha, got you!”. Uncanny.
How the Light Gets In is absorbing. Moreish. Riveting. The reader is easily able to pick it up and put it down due to the multiple protagonists and different POVs in each tale. Thematically grouped, with consistent tropes of light and darkness; it’s difficult to settle on a favorite. dark places to watch out for comes in a set of an existential five, confronting ordinary madness that lingers in all of us, like ‘the days when you hate everything, everything’, goading you into confronting life’s fortuity – how it can sucker-punch you on some random, idle Thursday morning. Each part is discerning, a tribute to the sheer vigilance of the writer’s perception; that ‘darkness in the belly of a can of Diet Coke, crushed, which you find on an otherwise pristine moor’.
I can imagine reading these in public would garner some strange reactions. I probably looked like I’d seen a ghost after reading tales such as The Engine, in which our fragility is magnified and impuissance heightened – and how ‘we don’t know why, sometimes, late at night, we feel as if there is a hole in the centre of everything’. But that’s how potent these words really are. And written so tersely despite tackling notions such as inadequacy, apprehensiveness, vulnerability and instability. An ardent task for many – but Fisher is immersive, compelling you into contemplation and self-reflection. And herein lies the beauty of the collection – despite the bleakness; enjoyment certainly did not suffer. In how to talk about potholes for example, despite its crux centering around a father’s anguish at the death of his wife, you come out the other side of it enlightened. Anguish makes way for contentment as solutions are sought – and contemplation confronted about what and who matters amidst the incessant hum of daily life.
The mordant, acerbic wit in unnecessary attachments is sublime. As I was reading this story Radiohead’s Karma Police was revolving around my head – specifically the ‘Phew! For a minute there, I lost myself’ lyric. It encapsulates the attempts we make to find a modicum of sense amidst the absurdity of the human condition through the medium of office work. The interweaving of implicit and explicit content throughout the collection works well, because just as you’re slapped into near psychosis at the brutal truths Fisher serves out; we’re sobered up slightly by accounts of journeys on the M25, scrolls through social media, Nescafe coffee, fried chicken takeaway shops and the familiarity of the landscape of an ever-changing cityscape spanning Derby, Leeds and London. In happy, sad, numb, the veracity of poverty is expertly conveyed and the torment it laments, while more than lunch is painfully identifiable – that barren land we inhabit when on the cusp of some kind of maturity, but not quite ready to let go of the murky pasts of excess and recklessness.
To term it merely as ‘a book of very short stories’ would be unjust, for every story captures those transient moments we neglect; and the way in which Fisher writes in its unalloyed, melodic form, renders each tale instantly recognisable. While many of the stories contained in the collection are over in a flourish – they contain so much – deftly weaving in so much detail in such short space it leaves you stupefied – each one packs so much punch.
This debut collection by Clare Fisher is a manual of self-emancipation. Running amok on its pages are pamphlet-sized tales about what we all feel, but are unable to express. Fisher digs up those seemingly trivial things we’ve forgotten, or intentionally misplaced; in a technologically over-saturated, overbearingly mundane world. At times it was eerie – not only in terms of its content, but the fact that the subject matter she confronts is so relatable I felt like an unknowing member of a cast and at any moment someone would jump out and say “Ha, got you!”. Uncanny.
How the Light Gets In is absorbing. Moreish. Riveting. The reader is easily able to pick it up and put it down due to the multiple protagonists and different POVs in each tale. Thematically grouped, with consistent tropes of light and darkness; it’s difficult to settle on a favorite. dark places to watch out for comes in a set of an existential five, confronting ordinary madness that lingers in all of us, like ‘the days when you hate everything, everything’, goading you into confronting life’s fortuity – how it can sucker-punch you on some random, idle Thursday morning. Each part is discerning, a tribute to the sheer vigilance of the writer’s perception; that ‘darkness in the belly of a can of Diet Coke, crushed, which you find on an otherwise pristine moor’.
I can imagine reading these in public would garner some strange reactions. I probably looked like I’d seen a ghost after reading tales such as The Engine, in which our fragility is magnified and impuissance heightened – and how ‘we don’t know why, sometimes, late at night, we feel as if there is a hole in the centre of everything’. But that’s how potent these words really are. And written so tersely despite tackling notions such as inadequacy, apprehensiveness, vulnerability and instability. An ardent task for many – but Fisher is immersive, compelling you into contemplation and self-reflection. And herein lies the beauty of the collection – despite the bleakness; enjoyment certainly did not suffer. In how to talk about potholes for example, despite its crux centering around a father’s anguish at the death of his wife, you come out the other side of it enlightened. Anguish makes way for contentment as solutions are sought – and contemplation confronted about what and who matters amidst the incessant hum of daily life.
The mordant, acerbic wit in unnecessary attachments is sublime. As I was reading this story Radiohead’s Karma Police was revolving around my head – specifically the ‘Phew! For a minute there, I lost myself’ lyric. It encapsulates the attempts we make to find a modicum of sense amidst the absurdity of the human condition through the medium of office work. The interweaving of implicit and explicit content throughout the collection works well, because just as you’re slapped into near psychosis at the brutal truths Fisher serves out; we’re sobered up slightly by accounts of journeys on the M25, scrolls through social media, Nescafe coffee, fried chicken takeaway shops and the familiarity of the landscape of an ever-changing cityscape spanning Derby, Leeds and London. In happy, sad, numb, the veracity of poverty is expertly conveyed and the torment it laments, while more than lunch is painfully identifiable – that barren land we inhabit when on the cusp of some kind of maturity, but not quite ready to let go of the murky pasts of excess and recklessness.
To term it merely as ‘a book of very short stories’ would be unjust, for every story captures those transient moments we neglect; and the way in which Fisher writes in its unalloyed, melodic form, renders each tale instantly recognisable. While many of the stories contained in the collection are over in a flourish – they contain so much – deftly weaving in so much detail in such short space it leaves you stupefied – each one packs so much punch.
March 29, 2020
DNF @ 60%
This book was not for me. I don't know if it's because of my age or because I'm not British, but I didn't connect to any of the stories. I really enjoy short fiction, but I didn't think the stories were well done. For some of the stories I could see what she was going for, but it felt very basic; she wasn't adding anything new to the discussion. For others I have no idea what their point was or what message the author was trying to get across.
Unfortunately I don't think I'll be reading anything more from this author. I don't think I connect with her writing at all.
This book was not for me. I don't know if it's because of my age or because I'm not British, but I didn't connect to any of the stories. I really enjoy short fiction, but I didn't think the stories were well done. For some of the stories I could see what she was going for, but it felt very basic; she wasn't adding anything new to the discussion. For others I have no idea what their point was or what message the author was trying to get across.
Unfortunately I don't think I'll be reading anything more from this author. I don't think I connect with her writing at all.
June 22, 2024
it took me like 5 chapters to realise it was a book of short stories n not a very very confusing plot with lots of different unrelated characters !!! but that's on me lol x
June 2, 2018
3.5 stars
I love fiction that does interesting things and this collection of super short stories does just that. Often finishing up in a page or two, the pieces explore our modern life through the eyes of 20 and 30-somethings. Realistic with flights of fancy, at her best Fisher gets at truths we may have felt but haven't said aloud.
Some of my favorites spill an entire tale in three sentences, as you can see here.
The length makes the stories perfect for reading on the train or in stolen moments. In fact, I found myself saving them for my commute because they fit so well. Light and dark are covered at length as themes, as you would expect, as well as finding yourself and belonging. I get the feeling Fisher is around my age because some stories can only told by someone who has straddled the digital divide, who has both lived the "before" and is fully immersed in the "after". Someone who has been told since they were small that they can do anything, and who is just realizing that anything does not equal everything.
As with any collection there's some range - when the stories are good they take your breath away, but when they're off they're just meh. There are so many short pieces, though, that the mehs (or the ones that don't get through my head) fall away, leaving gorgeous prose behind.
Great if you're looking for something a little different and beautifully written that embraces the now.
Thanks to Influx Press for providing a review copy.
I love fiction that does interesting things and this collection of super short stories does just that. Often finishing up in a page or two, the pieces explore our modern life through the eyes of 20 and 30-somethings. Realistic with flights of fancy, at her best Fisher gets at truths we may have felt but haven't said aloud.
Despite having spent a greater proportion of her life in a relationship than not in a relationship, she feels that a greater proportion of her 'self' is unknown than known.
Some of my favorites spill an entire tale in three sentences, as you can see here.
The length makes the stories perfect for reading on the train or in stolen moments. In fact, I found myself saving them for my commute because they fit so well. Light and dark are covered at length as themes, as you would expect, as well as finding yourself and belonging. I get the feeling Fisher is around my age because some stories can only told by someone who has straddled the digital divide, who has both lived the "before" and is fully immersed in the "after". Someone who has been told since they were small that they can do anything, and who is just realizing that anything does not equal everything.
Yes, you will die without doing or being many things; you will die as you are - and perhaps that is alright.
As with any collection there's some range - when the stories are good they take your breath away, but when they're off they're just meh. There are so many short pieces, though, that the mehs (or the ones that don't get through my head) fall away, leaving gorgeous prose behind.
Great if you're looking for something a little different and beautifully written that embraces the now.
Thanks to Influx Press for providing a review copy.
June 21, 2018
Several times reading this book I had to put it down and stare out of the bus window or train where I was reading it and double check that I wasn't dreaming, or in some alternate reality, because reading this was like having someone crack open my head and peer inside my brain. I have a lot of overlaps with the author in terms of age (millennial), background (working-class) and cities (London and Leeds crop up a lot as well as a few nods to Leicester, my home-town). I had moments of recognition that I don't often find in books, I had had that exact car-journey, that exact walk up the Headrow in Leeds, that exact thought about how hard it is to be human.
The stories in this books are short and fast as light. None last more than a few pages, they are broad in their topics and strong in voice and character. We have bullied kids growing into bullies, an encounter at a bus shelter between a working-class woman and someone well-to-do, commuters struggling to find a sense of space and peace on a busy tube.
Fisher's writing is light to the touch but doesn't hesitate to delve into serious issues. Technology is handled in a way that is believable to this generation: as a part of everyday life, a tool most people interact with daily, neither good nor bad. Relationships to technology and to others makeup many of the themes of the stories and there is a sense overall of the struggle of day-to-day life, our small triumphs and losses, our perceived slights and joys that make up the world. Mundane details that under the bright gaze of Fisher are given meaning. Its strength is also its weakness, the shortness of the stories means some struggle to make an impression, not every story caught me and that's fine, there's enough breadth of ideas for everyone here to enjoy and to find something that clicks with them.
Fisher's books feels like a fresh new voice and it was certainly one that resonated deeply with me.
The stories in this books are short and fast as light. None last more than a few pages, they are broad in their topics and strong in voice and character. We have bullied kids growing into bullies, an encounter at a bus shelter between a working-class woman and someone well-to-do, commuters struggling to find a sense of space and peace on a busy tube.
Fisher's writing is light to the touch but doesn't hesitate to delve into serious issues. Technology is handled in a way that is believable to this generation: as a part of everyday life, a tool most people interact with daily, neither good nor bad. Relationships to technology and to others makeup many of the themes of the stories and there is a sense overall of the struggle of day-to-day life, our small triumphs and losses, our perceived slights and joys that make up the world. Mundane details that under the bright gaze of Fisher are given meaning. Its strength is also its weakness, the shortness of the stories means some struggle to make an impression, not every story caught me and that's fine, there's enough breadth of ideas for everyone here to enjoy and to find something that clicks with them.
Fisher's books feels like a fresh new voice and it was certainly one that resonated deeply with me.
June 18, 2018
The most common topic is "insecure people in recovery". The writing's not literary, nor are the characters - "placid" (p. 131), "leaping into the uncomfortable groove of routine" (p.154), "discern" (p.154), etc sound out of place. Sometimes, not often [enough?], there's dialect.
Several pieces are lists - "dark places to watch out for" is in 5 parts, each part a list. "trying" is a list. I don't mind lists, but I think they're a rather forgiving form - the odd weak item won't break the whole piece.
Overall I felt rather frustrated by the pieces. Many had a line or two which I liked but few stuck in the memory. I prefer the longer pieces. I liked "something else" though it's a bit heavy handed, and "one woman's love". I liked the ending of "the guardian of travellers". I didn't like "mistakes" or "discovery in the dark".
"Everything would be much easier, for you, for me, for us, if I just turned into your phone", (p.110) - I suspect several characters in the book have that thought.
"you rush for your iPhone, click-click-click, but it's no use; the lens can't capture the play of light against the time-nibbled brick ... Nope, this is just a sunset, not a #sunset", (p.135) - a characteristic sentiment
"Some people will step over us, others will laugh, and maybe, if we're very lucky, some might take a few seconds out of the day they've got planned, that perfect day forever shimmering on the horizon, and help us out", (p.179) - typical of the low expectations and self-esteem of many of the characters.
Several pieces are lists - "dark places to watch out for" is in 5 parts, each part a list. "trying" is a list. I don't mind lists, but I think they're a rather forgiving form - the odd weak item won't break the whole piece.
Overall I felt rather frustrated by the pieces. Many had a line or two which I liked but few stuck in the memory. I prefer the longer pieces. I liked "something else" though it's a bit heavy handed, and "one woman's love". I liked the ending of "the guardian of travellers". I didn't like "mistakes" or "discovery in the dark".
"Everything would be much easier, for you, for me, for us, if I just turned into your phone", (p.110) - I suspect several characters in the book have that thought.
"you rush for your iPhone, click-click-click, but it's no use; the lens can't capture the play of light against the time-nibbled brick ... Nope, this is just a sunset, not a #sunset", (p.135) - a characteristic sentiment
"Some people will step over us, others will laugh, and maybe, if we're very lucky, some might take a few seconds out of the day they've got planned, that perfect day forever shimmering on the horizon, and help us out", (p.179) - typical of the low expectations and self-esteem of many of the characters.
June 9, 2018
It's hard being human; ordinary; freakish; a being with volume and weight; an interminably messy creature; a body which wants things; and a soul whose hunger, it seems, the harder you look up and down and under and over and around and around and through and in the cracks of this city, is never sated.
'How The Light Gets In' is a fascinating collection of short stories about modern life - the good, the bad, and the spaces in between. Even for short stories, they are incredibly short, however they are beautifully written so each character is understood regardless. Some evoke incredibly strong feelings. There are, naturally, stronger and weaker stories, but there were none that didn't seem to deserve their place here.
None of the characters are directly described, yet by the end of each story you feel like you know - and to an extent, understand - them. This is an art that many could learn from. I did feel like many of the characters seemed to share a voice - but this may have been deliberate, many stories about the same individual.
I may subsequently upgrade this review to 5*, but I think on balance it is more of a very strong 4*. Recommended.
'How The Light Gets In' is a fascinating collection of short stories about modern life - the good, the bad, and the spaces in between. Even for short stories, they are incredibly short, however they are beautifully written so each character is understood regardless. Some evoke incredibly strong feelings. There are, naturally, stronger and weaker stories, but there were none that didn't seem to deserve their place here.
None of the characters are directly described, yet by the end of each story you feel like you know - and to an extent, understand - them. This is an art that many could learn from. I did feel like many of the characters seemed to share a voice - but this may have been deliberate, many stories about the same individual.
I may subsequently upgrade this review to 5*, but I think on balance it is more of a very strong 4*. Recommended.
September 6, 2018
This is a collection of very short stories on the theme of light - and thus dark, and the shadows in between. Ranging from a few sentences to several pages in length, the stories are perfect for stolen moments amid our rushed modern life, and given that several of them are set on public transport, the narrators dashing from one destination to the next, perhaps that's part of the intention.
The characters are many and varied; the stories grouped into themes such as "How the light gets between you and me" and "Learning to live with cracks again" (and given that I'm a Leonard Cohen fan, these nods can't fail to please me). The last section was my favourite: characters finding their way back to each other or to themselves. The Other Lady of the Night made me hold my breath in horror and hope. Even the very short pieces always moved me. Fisher's style is deceptively simple: beneath the apparently casual dialogue or narrators the sentences are always carefully crafted and beautifully rhythmic.
I read the book slowly, a couple of stories at a time, and I feel that may be how it's best enjoyed. Like poetry, these pieces are for savouring.
The characters are many and varied; the stories grouped into themes such as "How the light gets between you and me" and "Learning to live with cracks again" (and given that I'm a Leonard Cohen fan, these nods can't fail to please me). The last section was my favourite: characters finding their way back to each other or to themselves. The Other Lady of the Night made me hold my breath in horror and hope. Even the very short pieces always moved me. Fisher's style is deceptively simple: beneath the apparently casual dialogue or narrators the sentences are always carefully crafted and beautifully rhythmic.
I read the book slowly, a couple of stories at a time, and I feel that may be how it's best enjoyed. Like poetry, these pieces are for savouring.
May 12, 2018
How The Light Gets In is a collection of very short stories and prose pieces that explore modern life and details both light and dark. They examine the impact of smartphones on daily life, create playful extended metaphors, and tell the stories of distinctive characters in very short spaces. Many of the pieces have a very distinct sense of place: London, Leeds, and elsewhere, being in transit and being at home.
The writing style may be familiar to anyone who read Fisher's debut novel, All The Good Things, and this collection has other similarities to that novel as well, particularly a sense of accurate detail about everyday life in Britain and characters dealing with tough situations. The modernity of these fleeting looks into characters and moments is enjoyable and the collection shows how very short writing can be perfect in the modern world. It is a book that can be read in the kind of scenarios the characters are shown to be—on transport, during a lunch break, whilst unable to concentrate, etc—because it is made up of powerful stories in a quick format.
The writing style may be familiar to anyone who read Fisher's debut novel, All The Good Things, and this collection has other similarities to that novel as well, particularly a sense of accurate detail about everyday life in Britain and characters dealing with tough situations. The modernity of these fleeting looks into characters and moments is enjoyable and the collection shows how very short writing can be perfect in the modern world. It is a book that can be read in the kind of scenarios the characters are shown to be—on transport, during a lunch break, whilst unable to concentrate, etc—because it is made up of powerful stories in a quick format.
June 26, 2018
As a Leeds lass who defected to Greater Manchester How the Light Gets In by Clare Fisher brought tears to my eyes and a smile to my face. These very short stories, sometimes just a few paragraphs in length, provide a look at modern life through the eyes of a wide variety of people. I love Clare's conversational style of writing which really takes you into the mind of the characters. Sometimes poignant, often funny the tales are heartfelt and perfectly pitched. A great collection to dip in and out of or to devour in one sitting, this is one I'll be returning to again and again.
August 17, 2020
A superb collection of short stories from one of the world's finest authors. These stories are about life, how we fit (or don't) into the world around us, relationships with our fellow humans - basically the structure of what it is to be a human in today's world. Beautiful descriptive writing and great scene setting - not easy to do when most of the the stories are only 2 pages long! A writer who is adept at leaving you with a sense of having just read something special.
May 14, 2019
Really didn’t work for me, though reading it the second time did help a bit. The mixture was of short fiction which felt like poetry (not necessarily in a good way) and millennial angst which seemed quite foreign to me!
June 27, 2018
she speaks the world we live in. this is everything writing should be. it is true and makes reality more obvious
July 13, 2018
It was interesting, but I didn’t find it triggered me in some of my own battles and found it a difficult read
July 18, 2018
Brilliant book. Short stories which left my head spinning and wanting more
February 5, 2019
Micro short stories
March 24, 2019
Sometimes these small tales can reach parts of modern living that longer novels struggle to get to.
November 15, 2020
These stories we’re too short for me. I didn’t get them, in the same way I don’t get poetry
January 18, 2021
Just not for me. Very creative though
January 21, 2021
A rather unusual set of short stories. Many of them were stunning, but many of them were also... a bit too 'normal' for my tastes. It sometimes seems like she's trying too hard to make unusual choices. But overall a good read for those interested in this genre!
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