Lowell-based playwright and author Jack Dacey (J F Dacey) sent this soaring review of Stephen O’Connor’s new book of short stories. While not originally written for print, Loom Press asked permission to post the robust review on this blog, and Jack agreed. Below, we share it with everyone:
I finished Northwest of Boston (sometime in late April.) Steve, I don't know where to begin, or how to begin. I don't want to embarrass you by gushing all over the place. And, as the house philosopher at McCullough's Pub, I feel I have a certain standard to uphold!
I would like to say it was magnificent -- but that's a word people usually apply to great cathedrals, or symphonies, or palaces and gardens. Part of the beauty here -- and part of the magnificence -- lies in its lack of spectacular trappings or proportions. It's eloquence lay in its honest, direct prose that, to me, was totally devoid of even the slightest pretense or even hint of grandiosity. The beauty was what, to me, the reader, was the absolute truth of what I found on the printed page. Additionally, to me as a life-long Lowell guy, was a sort of misty-eyed familiarity, a grinning connection, something that made me nod my head slightly, constantly, as I read story after story, enveloped in what felt like a blanket I had owned all my life. This was Lowell! That picture we always have, of the cloudy skies, the long shadows, the brick walls, cobblestone streets, and always the lofty smokestacks -- all that was there. But at the same time, all that was the setting! Lowell lived and breathed and moved through the people who lived on your pages! I could see the ragged cuffs, the worn shoes, the flannel shirts with threadbare collars, the callused hands, the whiskered faces, and the watery eyes. Person after person, I either felt like I knew them on the first page, or if not, I knew them by the end of the story.
So many of them, I felt that they were people I had hauled in my cab. That's what they felt like. And in those brief moments when you share their company, a little bit of them rubs off on you. There were moments when I felt that this was the book I had been trying to write with Take the Long Way Ho me, but fell short. Or, it felt like Take the Long Way Home without the cab (if such a thing were possible.)
At the risk of repeating myself, the eloquence was in its lack of overt eloquence. It achieved a straightforward, plain-spoken directness that never failed to hit the mark, and, to quote myself, it always went down like honey.
I really appreciated the variety of the stories and the characters that inhabited them. Of all the stories, I would still rank Down to the Crossroads as my favorite -- why not? I had a featured cameo! Others that stand out would include: You Have Reached Your Destination; El Greco; Eschatology (years ago, for a brief time, I had a girlfriend, Celine Lajeunesse); A View From the Summit; and St. Lucy's Day (which I would still like to try to adapt to a short play.) But they are all masterpieces in their own way, each in its own way. The book is a tremendous achievement, Steve. I hope you are proud of them, because you should be. I will read these stories again and again. Many times I would think to myself: Damn! Why can't I write like that?
BTW, I seem to recall reading a couple of the stories previously, as you had posted them online. “Thy Sister's Keeper” was one, and I believe “September” was the other. This would have been a few years ago.
Well, anyway, Steve -- I think you get the picture here. Congratulations on Northwest of Boston. It is absolute ART with no soundtrack and no CGI special effects! Well done in every respect, my friend!
J F Dacey’s book Take the Long Way Home chronicles his overnight cab-driving experiences in Lowell in 1979. The book is available on amazon.com