Dear Life: Stories by Alice Munro
Reviewed by Jason Koivu
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
This is Winesburg, Ohio for Canada.
I hesitated to use that analogy, because Ohioans and Midwesterners in general are so very Canadian it just seemed redundant. However, in Dear Life Alice Munro has written the same kind of truly reflective snippets of life that made Sherwood Anderson's work the well-respected, and frankly, forgettable novel it is.
Stories about everyday events and the less-than-dramatic moments of an average joe's average day do not enthrall me. I do, however, enjoy really well-crafted prose that "gets to the heart of the matter" and that's what we have here. Munro has presented us with a piece of work that flows with the ease of an ancient, flat river. Any turbulence is under the surface. You may not be swept away, but you will be transported comfortably and carefully to an inevitable conclusion.
I will not remember these stories. They tired me with their tedium. But I respect the hell of out the accomplishment that is Dear Life.
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