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rebadee's review
5.0
Mavis Gallant's short story collection The Cost of Living allows readers a glimpse at the evolution of a writer over twenty years. These stories are intricately pretty on the surface, hinting at murky depths below. Each story in the collection provides plenty of material for study and contemplation. In Thieves and Rascals from the July 1956 issue of Esquire, Gallant endows a woman with a powerful monologue on the physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion of dealing with inappropriate men, which could have been cut and pasted from a recent think piece on #MeToo. The power of Gallant's craft is indisputable throughout this collection.
ancaszilagyi's review
5.0
Gosh! Even when I'm thinking "this isn't Mavis Gallant's *best* story," it's a damn fine, excellent story.
larrys's review
4.0
Not going to lie — this collection was hard work. After reading Twilight, I suppose I deserved a mental workout. I had to really think before understanding what each story was really about. This meant reading the stories more than once, and reading slowly. I didn’t revisit every single story, but for the ones I did, I was well-compensated for the effort.
These are ‘capacious’ stories (a word Jhumpa Lahiri uses in the intro, and which I’ve heard used in reference to the stories of Alice Munro), and I learnt as much about some of these characters as I would had I read an entire novel about them. Reading such compact work is like sprinting the same distance as another author might cover, asking us to enjoy the ride at a slow jog. Perhaps this is part of these stories’ challenge. A lot offer their meaning in the final paragraph, and that’s why they require a re-read.
The introduction by Lahiri is very good, but like all introductions in collections of stories, you really have to read it after having read the stories themselves, otherwise it either doesn’t make any sense or comprises a series of spoilers.
I bet Mavis Gallant was a fascinating person. Honestly, though, I think I’d be too intimidated to take tea with her. She may have turned me into a caricature and written a story and sure as eggs it wouldn’t be flattering. A solid misanthropy runs through this work. Except when it comes to children, and women without agency.
These are ‘capacious’ stories (a word Jhumpa Lahiri uses in the intro, and which I’ve heard used in reference to the stories of Alice Munro), and I learnt as much about some of these characters as I would had I read an entire novel about them. Reading such compact work is like sprinting the same distance as another author might cover, asking us to enjoy the ride at a slow jog. Perhaps this is part of these stories’ challenge. A lot offer their meaning in the final paragraph, and that’s why they require a re-read.
The introduction by Lahiri is very good, but like all introductions in collections of stories, you really have to read it after having read the stories themselves, otherwise it either doesn’t make any sense or comprises a series of spoilers.
I bet Mavis Gallant was a fascinating person. Honestly, though, I think I’d be too intimidated to take tea with her. She may have turned me into a caricature and written a story and sure as eggs it wouldn’t be flattering. A solid misanthropy runs through this work. Except when it comes to children, and women without agency.
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