by Bernard MacLaverty
An ExtractHe stubbed his cigarette out with more pressure than was required and turned obver to go to sleep. But it was too quiet. Now and again he raised his head off the pillow and listened. Once a dog barked in the distance. Then another and another, from different farms. And just as suddenly they stopped and the silence returned. He listened so hard there was a kind of static in his ears - like listening to the sea in a shell. He expected whispering voices, the squeak of a rubber-soled shoe on their concrete path. He had heard on the radio once that the Universe had started with an unimaginable explosion and that static was its dying echoes a skillion years later. He lay on his back and listened to the echoes, waiting for his window to explode.
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Review: This was the book of the month for my book club and thank God I finished it so fast. We are meeting in a little over a week from now and I am ahead of the game. I often find myself scrambling to finish the night before we meet and I didn't want to do that this time, so I started earlier than usual and am very pleased with my stamina. I did not like this book at all and would not recommend it to any reader I know. I cannot put my finger on it, but the style reminded me of James Joyce and now that I think of it slightly John Updike. I didn't realize Updike until a fellow book club member pointed it out to me in conversation. The writing is rich and was probably the only reason I finished the book in the first place. The storyline did not suck me in and the dialogue was overkill. If you are interested in the problems of Ulster, the tragedy and madness of Northern Ireland and the IRA, then Cal is for you.
