The Infinite Sadness of Small Appliances by Glenn Dixon
Essentially a ‘modern’ Animal Farm, where the appliances play the role that the animals did. It’s cute to tell the story from the perspective of a little vacuum, named Scout, who does her share of existential and philosophical reflecting on everything from the meaning of joy; our sense of self-worth; and what it means to die. However, the cat-and-mouse element of the story was stretched a little too far to keep me engaged.
2.5/5
The Things We Never Say by Elizabeth Strout
So many people are saying that this is Strout’s best story yet… and I’m inclined to agree. There was something just so gentle and tender about it. And although her books are all about the interior lives of ordinary people, this one somehow took past themes of loneliness and the fact that we don’t truly know what is happening in the lives of others, a little further.
It was a private thing, to be alive.
There’s political commentary (isn’t it interesting how Trump’s first term is being discussed freely but also in an historical context?) and it’s clear who Strout isn’t voting for. I was all there for that hint of snark.
4/5
An Ocean and a Day by Hannah Richell
Gather all the tissues. You’ll need them if you’re planning on reading Richell’s memoir about the tragic drowning of her husband, Matt.
There are many elements of this memoir that have made me put it on my ‘recommended grief stories’ list. Firstly, she describes the difficulty of having to mother two small children while all of them were grieving – the loneliness of this task, and her children’s very different understanding of the permanence of death made for intense reading.
Secondly, Richell doesn’t default to grief theories to frame her experience. Instead, she uses her and Matt’s story, particularly their move from London to Sydney (across oceans) to provide a theme. Given that Matt died doing what he loved – surfing – I found the use of the ocean as a metaphor for grieving absolutely gut-wrenching.
Lastly, the memoir highlights grief in all of its forms – that the ‘small’ things are just as significant and as painful as the ‘big’ things. For example, she tells of a moment when her father let himself in the front door at the time of day when Matt would have ordinarily come home. Richell and the children freeze when they hear the key in the lock – was he back?! A moment when their hearts and bodies believed something different to what they knew in their minds. This, alongside the ‘big’ moments such as scattering Matt’s ashes, demonstrate the wild, tumultuous thing that grief is, and reminds us that we have very little control.
4/5