Zorrie - Laird Hunt

 

 There’s something almost exquisite about the satisfying completeness of this novella. Underpinned by a gentle humanity this story of Zorrie doesn’t seek to offer thrills and spills, twists and turns, it doesn’t seek to overtly shock or titillate, rather it offers a slice of life, a slice of life from one person’s perspective to be sure but that one person has lived a full and varied life. There are some shocks, emotional shocks, but whose life doesn’t throw emotional shocks at them at some point? But they are there to further and elaborate the narrative.

The central character, Zorrie, will tug at your heart. From her challenging early life she seems to weather all her storms, not unscathed, she experiences loss and sadness, but she deals with the crises that life hurls at us with such subtle dignity you can’t help but be humbled by her. She’s not afraid of hard work and she displays a loyalty to those people she encounters throughout her life.

It’s like witnessing a slice of life from, not so much a bygone age, but age of greater innocence and simplicity. There is no digital dominance in this book. It’s about people interacting person-to-person, by telephone, by letter and by postcard and how such real communication endures.

And it’s about people caring for each other. Trying to do they can when the chips are well and truly down. And sometimes they succeed and sometimes they fail, but they always try.

It could be argued that perhaps the book is too simple, not enough happens. But I’ve noticed a growing trend in the appeal of books like these that depict ordinary, decent folk going about their lives doing the best they can. I suppose Leonard and Hungry Paul springs to mind as another example but, for me, certainly, these stories offer a comfort and upliftment.

The writing is a delight. There’s a flow to it that is uncontrived, natural, no unnecessary exuberance of language to try and impress the discerning reader. We are given enough, not too much, not too little, it’s nigh on perfect. There’s a nuanced intimacy in the prose that makes you feel as if you are the only person reading the book! And the text is peppered with some quotable maxims and observations.

‘ The fragile film of the present must be buttressed against the past‘ 

‘ You could get whiplash trying to watch time go by.‘

Having implied that perhaps not much happens I’m still loathe give away too much of the plot! However I loved the sustained metaphor derived from the luminous paint used for the clock faces in the factory where Zorrie worked. That occupation also gave rise to some social comment in the book, I guess, as to the devastating effect the radium had on some of the workforce. 

I became aware of this book on social media. That’s not unusual in itself but I had one of my “feelings“, I knew before I read it that I would love it. It makes no sense, I know, but it’s happened on several occasions and I’ve never yet been disappointed. consequently I suffered a great attack of FOMO!  So huge thanks to the wonderful publicist, Ana McLaughlin, at riverrun who sent me a copy. And it’s going on my forever shelf.