Tinged with melancholy but rooted in resiliency, the exquisite stories of Bernard MacLaverty’s Blank Pages display the perseverance of the human spirit. In “A Love Picture,” a middle-aged woman, already no stranger to loss, consults a World War II newsreel to determine the fate of her son. “Blackthorns” tells of a poor, out-of-work Catholic man who falls gravely ill in the sectarian Northern Ireland of 1942 but is brought back from the brink by an unlikely savior. The harrowing but transcendent “The End of Days” imagines life in another pandemic as artist Egon Schiele and his wife, both stricken with the Spanish flu, spend their final days together. And in the poignant title story, an elderly writer takes stock of what remains after losing his life partner.
Blank Pages elegantly probes MacLaverty’s signature themes—domestic love, Catholicism, the Troubles, aging—with compassion and insight. A consummately gifted storyteller, MacLaverty uncovers the turbulent undertones of seemingly ordinary human interactions and explores endings of all kinds with tenderness, affection, and wry humor.
Acclaimed for his extraordinary emotional range and “telescopic observational powers” (Sam Sacks, Wall Street Journal), MacLaverty captures the joys and sorrows of everyday existence in crystalline, precise prose. Each resonant story in Blank Pages reminds us again why he is regarded as one of the greatest living Irish writers.
Bernard MacLaverty was born in Belfast in 1942 and lived there until 1975 when he moved to Scotland with his wife, Madeline, and four children. He has been a Medical Laboratory Technician, a mature student, a teacher of English and, for two years in the mid eighties, Writer-in-Residence at the University of Aberdeen.
After living for a time in Edinburgh and the Isle of Islay he now lives in Glasgow. He is a member of Aosdana in Ireland and is Visiting Writer/Professor at the University of Strathclyde.
Currently he is employed as a teacher of creative writing on a postgraduate course in prose fiction run by the Research Institute of Irish and Scottish Studies at the University of Aberdeen.
He has published five collections of short stories and four novels. He has written versions of his fiction for other media - radio plays, television plays, screenplays. Recently he wrote and directed a short film 'Bye-Child'
Bernard MacLaverty's evocative and disarming dozen historical short stories are extraordinary in their depiction of the ordinariness of human life, with his profoundly moving, yet understated prose. He has a keenly observant eye for the details that makes his fiction come vividly alive, covering universal themes of love, loss, grief, loneliness, family, ageing, relationships (intimate and otherwise), war, the Troubles, art, and the power of music. He writes with sensitivity, tenderness and compassion, the exquisite simplicity of his prose made reading this short story collection an absolute joy.
The first and last stories are set in the early WW2 years, both featuring the miraculous, with the anguish and grief of a Belfast mother, Gracie, who has lost her son, his ship hit by the Germans, she is making her way to the cinema to see a newsreel that may just prove that a God exists and impoverished Derry man, Peter Conway is a sick man, his doctor is not expecting him to live, he is suffering from septicaemia, when help comes from unexpected quarters, the US military. We see the relationship of a son living in a different country from his mother, she is in a home, a grandfather in Scotland begins to panic as he searches for his 2 missing grandchildren. Lily, once the lover of the sculptor, carries out a commission from him of making a death mask of a recently dead man, the British army come looking for the son of a mother at night, a visit that results in a cricket ball going missing, and a man addicted to the demon drink proves to be a somewhat good samaritan for a neighbour whilst helping himself to her brandy.
One of my favourite stories resonates with our contemporary global realities of a pandemic, set in Vienna in 1918 where we see the ending of Edi, the pregnant wife of the painter, Egon Schiele, forced to watch as his wife is dying of the Spanish Flu. On a ferry, a quibbling married couple, Sean and Grace, persuade a young woman transporting a harp to give an unforgettable musical performance, whilst in another story a piano gets dismantled. These are a glorious set of short stories, imaginative, emotive, artful, subtly nuanced in the characters and scenarios portrayed. I think many readers will love MacLaverty's stories. Highly recommended. Many thanks to the publisher for an ARC.
This is a varied collection of short stories from the very talented Irish author. They are beautifully written, the language is lush, lyrical and very visual. Some of the stories are wonderfully immersive and others a bit more enigmatic. They are principally about grief and dying, some dwell on the ageing process, with the sadness of a lost loved one or the care needed for an aged parent with dementia or the coupledom of many years together. Some are set in Northern Ireland where The Troubles feature centrally in the storytelling.
The first story set in Belfast of 1940 features the grief of Gracie O’Brien for her son Frank who she fears lost at sea following a torpedo attack. This is a wonderful story, there’s some lovely memories and imagery and Gracie receives a great kindness. This is one of my favourites because Frank comes alive in her mind and there are some apt Irish expressions which sum situations up perfectly. Another good one is set in Belfast in 1971, featuring Molly and her 83 year old mammy and some British soldiers. The tension the author creates you could dig out with an Apostle Spoon (features in the first story) and you feel everyone’s heightened state of nerves.
There’s a collection entitled ‘The Fairly Good Samaritan ‘ and there are some good ones here too, with a drunk who does a fairly good turn for Mrs Downstairs but the best is set in Vienna in 1918. The central characters are Egon and his pregnant wife Edith and centres around the devastating arrival of the Spanish flu. That one resonates for obvious reasons with the author bringing post-War Austria alive with the colour of the writing.
I also love the story of couple Sean and Gracie who amicably bicker on a ferry crossing from Ireland to Scotland. It becomes a magical voyage when they encounter Lisa with a harp. The final one set in Derry of 1942 and throws up some thought provoking comparisons of segregation following the arrival of US soldiers many of whom are black with the situation of Catholic/Protestant segregation. This one features a new wonder drug being produced by Pfizer.... which is clever and miraculous.
Overall, this is an intriguing, beautifully written, clever and thought provoking collection which is well worth reading.
With thanks to NetGalley and Random House UK, Vintage/Jonathan Cape for the much appreciated arc in return for an honest review.
The stories in this Irish author’s new book are about loss, death, the inevitability of grief, the indignities of age and the way a life can suddenly slide into the abyss. It could have been very grim going, but MacLaverty writes with such compassion that his stories never feel bleak; they feel humane. They feel hopeful.
What is going on? I'm pretty sure it's not legal for me to have two 5-star reads back-to-back, especially when I only had nine all last year.
I don't read a lot of short stories, but after reading this collection I have to wonder what the hell I've been missing. This was simply a great read, not a single dud among the twelve stories.
MacLaverty writes about common people facing hard times, but not particularly unique times. They have the problems we all have–a parent with growing dementia, not enough work to make ends meet, the loneliness and grief after losing a partner. He writes about Ireland and Scotland, covering time periods from World War I to today, about Catholicism, prejudice, compassion, love, familial duty, and in a brief 15-20 page story, gives us major portions of a life. Just beautifully done. This is simple: read this book!
A number of the longer stories are set at turning points in twentieth-century history. In 1940, a mother is desperate to hear word of her soldier son; in 1971 Belfast, officers search a woman’s house. Two of the historical stories appealed to me for their medical elements: “The End of Days,” set in Vienna in 1918, dramatizes Egon Schiele’s fight with Spanish flu, while “Blackthorns” gives a lovely picture of how early antibiotics promoted miraculous recovery. In the title story, a cat is all a writer has left to remind him of his late wife. “Wandering” has a woman out looking for her dementia-addled mother. “The Dust Gatherer” muses on the fate of an old piano. Elderly parents and music recur, establishing filaments of thematic connection.
Three favourites: In “Glasshouses,” a man temporarily misplaces his grandchildren in the botanical gardens; “The Fairly Good Samaritan” is the fable of a jolly drunk who calls an ambulance for his poorly neighbour – but not before polishing off her brandy; and in the gorgeous “Sounds and Sweet Airs” a young woman’s harp music enthrals the passengers on a ferry.
‘Midwinter Break’ is one of my favourite books of recent years so I was very excited to be able to read an early copy of Bernard MacLaverty’s latest work. This is a collection of short stories looking at instances of grief, loneliness, ageing and death, and those set in Ireland are by far the ones that struck me most. I remember from ‘Midwinter Break’ the sublime talent BM has for conveying moments of poignancy in unremarkable, everyday lives and some of these stories impressed me in the same way.
I am thinking here particularly of the first in the collection (in which a mother is reeling from the news that her son’s ship has gone down in the Atlantic convoys of WWII), the title story (about a lonely widower and a triumph of obliquely articulated compassion), and the final two.
The last one sees a doctor going out of his way to save the life of a man he barely knows and the author conveys with heartbreaking subtlety and understatement what an unusual act of kindness this is.
The penultimate story features a long-married couple on a ferry journey across the Irish Sea and is most reminiscent of ‘Midwinter Break’ with the bickering born out of familiarity.
A lovely, varied but oddly cohesive collection that I shall re-read for sure. Highly recommended.
With thanks to Random House Vintage via NetGalley for the opportunity to read an ARC.
4.5 stars. Lively, human stories, from spilling eyedrops to dementia, a harp recital on a passenger ferry to a fairly good Samaritan, Egon Schiele discovering his girlfriend dead in bed to the first use of penicillin in Ireland during the war. A smart, loving writer.
MacLaverty is a Northern Irish writer who has produced several masterful novels over the years including Cal, Grace Notes and Midwinter Break. He was born in Belfast in 1942 and has lived in Scotland since 1975.
As can often happen in collections of short stories, I found some stories lacking and others brilliant. Nevertheless, I believe it is well worth reading as MacLaverty is a masterful writer.
Reread May, 2023 for my Irish fiction book group. My book group discussion was greatly enhanced by a Colm Toíbin interview with the author about the book. The interview is paro of Toíbin's "The Art of Reading" podcast which appears on Spotify, among other places. He is the current Irish Laureate for Fiction. In this interview with the author, Toíbin pulls out examples of MacLaverty's careful and even brilliant descriptions. The writing is careful and meticulous.
Beautifully written collection, albeit very sad. At their core, these stories were about being human and how beautiful and painful that can be at the same time. MacLaverty has a wonderful way of making the melancholy seem mundane, yet also finding the grace in that mundanity. Some stories were more successful at illuminating this silver lining than others (Glasshouse, The End of Days, and Blackthorns stood out for me), while others left me feeling just a bit sad.
Side note: Tried to be festive by reading this on a flight on St. Patrick’s Day, but these stories were anything but festive! 😂
I loved MacLaverty's previous novel Midwinter Break - the setting, the characters and observations of a marriage felt absolutely spot on, and the book has really stayed with me. Whilst the writing was good here and the stories had some hints of what I loved about Midwinter Break, they felt slight and sadly left little impression on me only days after finishing the book.
Thank you Netgalley and Random House UK / Vintage for the advance copy, which was provided in exchange for an honest review.
The greatest of short story writers worm their way into your consciousness with lasting images and characters: Poe, K.A. Porter, Flannery O’Connor. One can certainly add the name of Bernard MacLaverty to that list.
One of the growing number of outstanding Irish writers, his Winter Break was one of the treasures of 2017 fiction. In Blank Pages and Other Stories, he continues to reshape what makes short fiction.
Although his sense of place is firm, be it the recent past, WWII, Vienna or WWI, he recreates with verve. But it is in themes of mortality and how we face it, that he sculpts with a sure hand. Each story in the collection is fine, but if I were teaching the short story, I would hold his “Blank Pages” as a prime example of understated pathos and completeness of sorrow and longing.
There is not one weak story in the collection. One critic states: “This fine collection reaffirms MacLaverty’s place among the greatest short story writers of his generation.” I firmly agree.
Bernard MacLaverty’s latest collection of stories is unmissable. Once again, he excels at capturing the magical and the sublime in the everyday. Twelve stories, loosely linked by common themes of ageing and loss, transport the reader directly into the lives of his characters. The stories are mostly set in MacLaverty’s favoured territory of Northern Ireland and the west of Scotland, with the exception of the most recent story in the collection, the unbearably sad The End of Days, which focuses on the last days of Egon Schiele and his wife Edi in the Spanish Flu pandemic of 1918.
What a deceptively light touch he has. Translucent stories dealing with universal themes, as if one peeped through a door and glimpsed something precious.
It took me waaaaaaaaay too long to read this book. I think I won it from a Goodreads giveaway in January of 2022, and I didn’t read it until January of 2023. Physical books get added to my special TBR shelf and I read them in the order in which they were received. Because I get the majority of my reading material from the library, and those books have due dates, the physical books don’t take priority. So, it took me a year, but I finally read it. I have long professed my dislike for short stories. I can handle them in small quantities, in literary magazines and websites, but an entire anthology of them immediately exhausts me. However, as a pseudo-writer, I fully understand the appeal of the short story. I, too, have amassed a pretty decent collection of short stories (they will likely never be read by anybody other than myself), but I can’t knock out a novel to save my life (to be fair, my life has never been threatened by the lack of a completed novel). I avoid short story books, but every now and then, one will sneak in. This book made me think of the Disney movie Fantasia. If you haven’t seen it (because maybe you live under a rock???), artists painted pictures and scenes based on pieces of music. It’s a beautiful movie. This book painted some of the most amazing pictures and scenes, the writing was that good. While I don’t recall the specifics of any of the stories, I do recall being completely captivated by every word on every page. This is one of those books I will recommend to every human I know. Please read this one.
As usual, I found a short story collection where some of the stories spoke to me more than the others. I found the stories set in the past to be particularly compelling, and the second half of the collection felt like the author was running out of steam. But it concludes with a powerful tale demonstrating the place systemic prejudice & racism held in so many societies...and still does.
Bernard MacLaverty is a master of the art of sort story telling. Blank Pages has brought him to the point of genius. There is really no point in saying any more. Each story is a delight. If you do not read them that is a punishment that you are inflicting on yourself.
In this collection of twelve short stories mostly set in Northern Ireland, the author’s consistently clear, spare style provides vivid images of the daily experiences, actions and trains of thought of mainly ordinary people leading unremarkable lives. If there is a common thread, it is their stoical acceptance of fate in whatever form –age, bereavement, loneliness, or the turmoil of the Troubles. Otherwise decent and caring people hold unconscious prejudices of religion, Protestant versus Catholic, or racism, such as against black American soldiers in Belfast during the 1940s.
So far, so banal and bleak, only slightly relieved by a tendency to end on an upbeat note. What makes the writing so compelling is the anticipation - precisely when or even whether Bernard MacLaverty may choose to introduce some dramatic event or unexpected twist, some sharp insight or striking image. “A Love Picture” not only describes a type of film but also portrays Gracie’s memories of her son, whose fears of being torpedoed at sea have come to pass. The sight of his bicycle in the hall prompts the image of him as he once “walked beside her down the street - steering his bike from the back by simply holding the saddle”. What is the mysterious urgent “night work” which cleaner Lily has to carry out on behalf of a sculptor? This is just one of the stories taking a quirkily original course, as is also the case with “Blank Pages”, which contrives to reveal a great deal about human relations through Frank driven by writer’s block to lay out sheets of white paper on the carpet, and the behaviour of a well-observed cat.
Some stories may appeal more if they mirror one’s own life, as in “Glasshouses” where an elderly man lost in his own thoughts suffers the sudden panic of finding that the two grandchildren in his care have disappeared, or the employee whose business meeting finishes unexpectedly early uses the time gained to visit his mother’s care home, an indication of his sense of guilt.
Yet perhaps Bernard MacLaverty’s skill lies in enabling readers to connect with situations they have not experienced first-hand. Is it necessary to have seen patterns on the frozen windowpane as a child to be struck by the “cold sandpaper roughness” of frost “which had covered the inside of the glass with feathers”? Also, the image of the artist Egon Schiele, traumatised by grief yet relentless in his need to paint his wife who has just died from the Spanish flu, chimes with one’s own recent experience of the effects of the Covid pandemic.
For my part, perhaps the most effective story is “Sounds and Sweet Airs”, where a superficially mundane account of an elderly couple making a ferry crossing in rough weather between Ireland and Scotland impressed me through both its construction and mix of character development, insights, and poignancy laced with humour. “Blackthorns” is also recommended, but other readers will be drawn for different reasons to other stories in this varied collection.
Vivid stories that allow the reader to dive into the world of various characters struggling with challenges in their daily lives reminds us to cherish the simple things in life and the true value of family. MacLaverty's writing paints scenes in crisp detail that makes the stories truly come to life in your mind's eye. Stories are short enough to read on the go for those with little time. This was a joy to read and hard to put down.
I loved these stories from Bernard MacLaverty. In and out of people’s lives with quiet steps. His stories gear up subtly but never miss the pain or the humour of the characters. I sent a copy to a friend of mine, a Belfast man now living in the west of Ireland - I felt on solid ground, knew it would land as well with him as it did with me in Scotland. Another superb book from a real master.
I've never read anything from MacLaverty before, so I wasn't sure what I was getting reading into this new collection. I want to say I "enjoyed" it, but I don't think that's the right word. These stories feature loss as the main theme and that may have been too "on the nose" when compared to today's world/situation for me to truly enjoy them. Did I not become completely immersed in them because my life right now is overloaded with loss? I think so. Still, I appreciated MacLaverty's gorgeous words and felt that he did offer a tiny bit of hope in the face of death and fear.
And, frankly, I'm assuming that's why MacLaverty gravitated toward writing these. As a human on the Earth in 2022 during a pandemic, we're all immersed in this same situation and trying to find ways to grapple with it. Authors use writing to make sense of things the struggle with but to also share their own worries; I see MacLaverty doing that here.
All his stories deal with loss, but also seem to offer hope by insinuating loss is a universal concept and part of what makes us human. My favorite story is "The End of Days: Vienna 1918." In Vienna, MacLaverty draws a fictional picture of real-life artist Egon Schiele's experience with the Spanish flu in 1918. The flu killed Schiele's pregnant wife and then Egon three days later. This intimate story has him sitting at her bedside and listening to his child's heartbeat in utero as she--and the baby--dies. It's incredibly sad and moving. MacLaverty's quiet writing fits the moment perfectly; yet speaks to the communal nature of death with imagery of Schiele drawing sketches of his wife and then burning them.
If you're looking for some quiet yet powerful stories by a star of the genre, this might be the collection for you. I"m determined to give it another go and try to savor it; it'll just be when real life is less challenging.
I will read anything by Bernard MacLaverty. I love all the varied and various characters in this short story collection; the wartime widow mom, the grandfather who pretends he didn't lose the grandkids, the cleaning woman who makes a mean deathmask, etc. Each story is so unique and evocative, from Egon Schiele's family being lost to plague, to the titular story about an elderly romantic but ridiculously prolonged meetcute between neighbors Teresa and Frank who both mourn the loss of his wife.
I think my favorite was Sounds and Sweet Airs, about an elderly married couple on public transportation, or maybe I just love that I was on public transportation in Scotland myself as I read about them and got to see exactly what they were discussing! "He nodded at the Priority Seats - the purple fabric was patterned with small, stylised figures: a green man with a white stick, a pink girl with a baby, a blue pregnant woman, an orange man with his leg in a plaster. 'What I like is that some people sat down and figured all this out,' said the woman. 'A committee. Who were kind.' Her partner thought about this. 'But they're all temporary conditions,' he said. 'How do you show depression? Or cancer?'
Favorites: "A Love Picture: Belfast 1940" - Melodramatic, perhaps, but I like a good melodrama. "Night Work" "The Dust Gatherer" "Blank Pages" "Sounds and Sweet Airs" "Blackthorns County Derry 1942"
From "Sounds and Sweet Airs" - on a ship sailing between Ireland and Scotland: "He said, 'You're a bit of an angel.' She nodded, slightly amused. 'But are you any good at it?' 'Being an angel? Or playing the harp?' 'I thought they were the same thing.'"
"This was not somebody who was trying to remember the piece - she was a true musician. Convincing listeners that it could not be played any other way - playing it afresh - as if it was being made up on the spot."
"'I'd like to end with something Irish . . . Emigration was one of the saddest things ever to have happened in Ireland - both north and south. The people who left because of the famine years ago, didn't have much to carry. Music is light luggage. But as the saying goes, songs make an easy bundle.'"
From "Blackthorns County Derry 1942": "He loved the way the trees grew straight upwards, regardless of the tilt of the land. As if they took their orders from the centre of the earth and not from the slant of the forest floor."
Bernard MacLaverty is one of the treasures of our time here. I celebrate him and his writing.
I picked up 'Blank Pages and Other Stories' because I needed a short story collection but other than that I didn't have any expectations of what I might be up against. I ended up loving it.
This is an extraordinary book that focuses on the ordinary parts of life from a son grappling with his mother's mortality, to a grandfather losing sight of his grandchildren in a day out to a musician travelling back to Ireland for her father's birthday and striking a conversation with a couple of pensioners... There are no supervillains or great saviours, even when a character lives in the middle of the II World War or Northern Ireland during the Troubles, everyone grapples with the same kind of day to day kindness or cruelty from their neighbours and how those small things are huge and life-changing.
I ended up curling on the couch with a cup of tea and lost myself in its pages without even trying. This is one of those books that is perfect for everyone and every occasion because every character and situation in it is recognizable, how self-contained, timeless and Irish they all were.
Thanks to Jonathan Cape for sending me this book proof.