There's a quote I had read a long time ago: "You are everything I never knew I always wanted." In early youth, this was a romantic notion. But with time, one sees it as life philosophy - one that Claire Keegan weaves into her novel, "In Small Things Like These" very deftly.
We follow Furlong, the manager of a coal dispensing operation (who has risen through the ranks from a miner), over a few days in December. He lives with his family, comprising a practical, loving wife and four girls. So, we follow an ordinary man living out an ordinary life in a small Irish town. And then it's Christmas.
Because of the cold and some other problems, Furlong is short of help, and he has to deliver coal himself. His usual crew is not available. So Furlong goes to the neighbors' homes - the same ones he used to visit as a child, and we get a glimpse of what life must have been for a young lad.
Furlong was born out of wedlock to a young mother. She was the maid at Mrs. Wilson's, an older widow's place. The widow was kind enough to take care of the mother and son. In fact, Furlong did not have a father growing up, but he got close to a bunch of other male help who worked in the same house as his mother. There is a really moving memory where Furlong, as a child, wants a train set for Christmas, but he gets a dictionary instead. He is broken-hearted. But when he reflects on it in hindsight, he realises that the dictionary actually improved his vocabulary and his spoken communication. This enabled him to rise in the ranks at the coal mine quicker.
So Furlong is a man with a full life and a grateful heart.
Then one day, just around Christmas time, he has to deliver coal to St. Margaret's Convent - a nunnery where he finds girls (considered to be "fallen" because they got pregnant outside of marriage or did drugs or smoked and drank) working on laundry and being kept in poor conditions. When he first enters the convent, it is dark, and he can't find anyone. Later, he trips over a very young woman who is pregnant and who begs him to help her escape.
Furlong is a kind man, a strong man...and a family man.
He helps her with some milk or something and then tells her he will try to help her out. He leaves.
When he discusses the issue with his wife, she warns him against going up against the Convent. It is known that the Convent is a front for forced labour. It has some powerful people backing it. And how many people could he help anyway?
Furlong tries to sort this out by meeting the Mother Superior. And this discussion is a quiet, eerie, and masterful piece of writing.
The Mother knows that Furlong is aware of what is going on. She offers him some Christmas treats and asks him about his family. She comments that while daughters are lovely, wouldn't it have been good to also have a son? Then she hints at how the Convent is a tool in keeping wanton women in check. Because righteousness must be the status quo.
In the course of the conversation, Furlong remembers that young, pregnant, frightened woman he had tripped on earlier. In that memory, he also remembers how his own mother may have been a young, pregnant, frightened woman at one time. How his mother (and he) had been saved by the kindness of a woman who had modest means but a generous heart. Maybe Mrs. Wilson did not have the presence of Christ the same way the Convent did, but the fact that Furlong was a working, contributing member of society pointed to some sort of hand of God. He then thinks of that young, frightened, pregnant girl again and thinks of his daughters. Suppose they slip up and make a mistake, would this eternal damnation be useful for them?
He thinks about the nun's comment on him not having a son. And then he realizes something odd - that he is a man and by virtue of the gender hierarchy in the nun's head, he is superior to her. So he leans back in the chair, squares his shoulder, and tells the nun a few things.
This section is so well written and composed that the tenor of the book changes completely. You see Furlong as someone who has the mettle to handle inconveniences in ways that he thinks is right.
In another part of the book, we get a sense of what Furlong is thinking as he ruminates about this girl in the Convent while walking with his family: "As they carried along and met more people Furlong did and did not know, he found himself asking was there any point in being alive without helping one another? Was it possible to carry on along through all the years, the decades, through an entire life, without once being brave enough to go against what was there and yet call yourself a Christian, and face yourself in the mirror?”
The book ends on a continuation of sorts.
But it does leave you thinking...that kindness is a distinct kind of valour.
