The Hill Bachelors--William Trevor

William Trevor has been known to the rest of the world for some time as one of the premier creators of short fiction. I have managed to remain ignorant of him for lo, these many years, much to my own detriment and sorrow. And this ignorance is just a symptom of a wider systemic problem.  In a world where thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of books are released each year, how in the world does one keep track of all the worthy writers?  Perhaps that is a question for another post.  For now, a review of Mr. Trevor's book.

The Hill Bachelors collects twelve stories on subjects as varied as the trails and traumas of a monk's vocation ("The Virgin's Gift)", the painful aftermath of Irish Independence and "the troubles" that eventually resulted in it ("Low Sunday, 1950"), a professor who discovers (or not) that rumors of his death have been greatly exaggerated ("Death of a Professor"), and a Belfast con-woman's play for more money in rural Ireland ("Against the Odds").

Each story has its own piquant qualities.  Many of them reflect upon longing or loss.  Some of them seem elegaic, others seem quietly domestic.  The tension in most is slight, barely noticeable; and the stories are all the more attractive for not relying upon sensational elements to carry them.  They are taut, balanced, and perfectly tuned to what they are trying to do.

Neither is the prose sensational and calling out for attention in the way many in the post-modern era do.  Instead, it is exactly right for each story.  It carries the weight of history, of the lightness of a family party, or the poetry of a life well-lived.

Each story is a gem, a beautiful small package to be opened, an extended poem, a small revelation.  This small book has encouraged me to read as much as I can get of Mr. Trevor's work.  The stories are strong--very, very strong.  The voice and the description powerful and compelling.  The work has all the virtues of more "popular" writers,  and none of the drawbacks of familiarity and rote similarity in each.  There are no clearly marked paths through Mr. Trevor's work.  Similar themes surface and vanish, but each story is unique, uncluttered, to the point.

In short, one of the finest writers of the short story I've happened upon in years.  Some have referred to Mr. Trevor as "our Chekhov."  On that accolade, I am not qualified to comment, having never much cared for Mr. Chekhov's stories--preferring the plays (may be a problem of so-so translations).  But the comparison itself is enough to drive me backward to dip into Mr. Chekhov's work again.

*****--Highly recommended.

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