![]() ![]() This is the twelfth story in Trevor's twelfth collection: an almost magical number for what could be his most mesmerising and haunting story. The final tale, in particular, is a work of perfect control and balance. ![]() Cressida Connolly, The Literary Review July 2007 All the stories in this book are good, but two of them are outstanding. As with Chekov - and the comparison is almost inevitable - they leave space for the reader to ruminate and in that way achieve their aim, which is to underline the solitary nature, almost the impermeability, of individual experience. True to such maturity and control, the stories are suffused with radiant and effortless majesty a comprehensive ease of speaking about spaces in the human heart and mind that remains out of reach for most writers.' Anita Brookner, the Spectator 21 July 2007 These stories are formally perfect. The Times 7 July 2007 What remains to be said about William Trevor - except the oft-repeated truth that he is not just a master but the master of the narrative form. ![]()
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