3 answers2025-06-26 15:15:30
If you're looking to grab a copy of 'Small Things Like These', I'd recommend starting with major retailers like Amazon or Barnes & Noble. They usually have both paperback and e-book versions available, often with quick shipping. For those who prefer supporting independent bookstores, platforms like Bookshop.org connect you with local shops while offering online convenience. The Kindle Store and Apple Books are solid options if you want the digital version instantly. I’ve noticed prices can vary, so it’s worth checking a few sites before purchasing. Some sellers even offer signed editions or special covers if you dig a little deeper into listings.
3 answers2025-06-26 04:03:07
I just finished 'Small Things Like These' and it hit me like a ton of bricks. This isn't your typical holiday story - it's a quiet powerhouse that exposes the dark underbelly of 1980s Ireland through the eyes of a coal merchant. What makes it special is how Claire Keegan writes with surgical precision, carving out this moral dilemma that keeps gnawing at you. The protagonist Bill Furlong's ordinary life collides with the Magdalene Laundries scandal in a way that feels painfully real. It's short enough to read in one sitting but lingers for weeks afterward. The way Keegan builds tension through seemingly small details - a nervous nun's hands, the weight of a coal sack - creates this slow-burning outrage that culminates in one of the most powerful endings I've ever read. For anyone who loves literary fiction that punches above its weight, this is essential reading.
3 answers2025-06-26 00:32:22
I recently read 'Small Things Like These' and was blown away by its emotional depth. The novel was written by Claire Keegan, an Irish writer known for her precise, haunting prose. It came out in October 2021, right when the world needed stories about quiet courage. Keegan packs so much into this slim book—it’s set in 1980s Ireland and tackles the Magdalene Laundries scandal with heartbreaking subtlety. What’s wild is how she makes a coal merchant’s small acts of kindness feel epic. If you enjoy literary fiction that lingers, check out Keegan’s earlier work like 'Foster' or 'Antarctica'. She’s masterful at showing big truths through small moments.
3 answers2025-06-26 19:57:19
As someone who devours historical fiction, I can confirm 'Small Things Like These' isn't directly based on one specific true story, but it's steeped in brutal reality. Claire Keegan channels Ireland's Magdalene Laundries scandal—those church-run institutions where "fallen women" were essentially enslaved. The novel's power comes from how it zooms in on ordinary lives touched by this systemic cruelty. While Bill Furlong is fictional, his moral dilemma mirrors countless real people who chose silence over confronting the Church's abuses. Keegan's sparse prose makes the historical weight even heavier; she doesn't need to name-check actual laundries when every detail—the frozen potatoes, the whispered warnings—rings terrifyingly authentic. For similar gut-punch historical fiction, try 'The Wonder' by Emma Donoghue.
3 answers2025-06-26 14:36:27
As someone who's read 'Small Things Like These' multiple times, I'm struck by how it uses quiet moments to reveal Ireland's painful past. The story unfolds around Christmas in a small town, where the festive cheer barely masks the lingering shadows of the Magdalene Laundries. Through Bill Furlong's ordinary life as a coal merchant, we see how these institutions were an open secret—everyone knew, yet no one acted. The novel doesn't hammer you with historical facts; instead, it shows how complicity was woven into daily life. When Bill discovers a girl locked in a coal shed, his moral dilemma mirrors Ireland's collective struggle to confront its legacy. The restrained prose makes the horror hit harder—like realizing your cozy hometown was built on unspoken suffering. For those wanting to dive deeper, I'd suggest watching 'The Magdalene Sisters' alongside reading.
5 answers2025-06-23 16:39:39
I’ve seen 'Small Great Things' pop up in so many places! If you’re into physical copies, big retailers like Amazon and Barnes & Noble always have it in stock—both hardcover and paperback. Local bookstores often carry it too, especially since it’s a popular pick for book clubs. For digital readers, Kindle and Apple Books have instant downloads, and audiobook lovers can grab it on Audible. Libraries are another great option if you prefer borrowing.
Secondhand shops or online marketplaces like AbeBooks sometimes offer cheaper used copies. If you’re outside the U.S., check Book Depository for free shipping worldwide. The book’s themes on race and justice make it a frequent flyer in stores, so you’ll likely spot it even in airport bookshops. Pro tip: If you’re buying online, compare prices—editions vary, and sales happen often.
5 answers2025-06-23 11:54:30
The main characters in 'Small Great Things' are deeply compelling and drive the story's emotional core. Ruth Jefferson, a Black labor and delivery nurse with decades of experience, finds herself at the center of a racial firestorm when she is barred from caring for a white supremacist couple's newborn. Her strength and resilience make her a standout protagonist.
Then there's Turk Bauer, the baby's father, a violent extremist whose hatred fuels much of the conflict. His wife, Brittany, is more conflicted but still complicit in their toxic ideology. Kennedy McQuarrie, Ruth's white public defender, starts off naive about racial bias but evolves through the case. These characters clash in ways that expose systemic racism, privilege, and the messy intersections of justice and personal growth. The novel's power comes from how their lives intertwine under extreme pressure.
5 answers2025-06-23 12:44:22
The main conflict in 'Small Great Things' revolves around racial tension and systemic injustice in modern America. Ruth Jefferson, a Black labor and delivery nurse with decades of experience, is barred from caring for a newborn because the baby's parents are white supremacists. When the infant goes into cardiac distress and Ruth hesitates to intervene due to the parents' explicit orders, she is blamed for the tragedy and faces a criminal trial. The novel exposes how deeply racism is embedded in institutions—hospitals, courts, even public perception—forcing Ruth to navigate a legal system stacked against her while confronting her own internalized biases.
The story also contrasts Ruth's struggle with the perspective of Turk Bauer, the baby's father, whose hate-fueled worldview fuels the conflict. Their collision isn't just personal; it mirrors societal fractures where privilege and prejudice dictate outcomes. Jodi Picoult layers the narrative with ethical dilemmas: Is Ruth's hesitation negligence or self-preservation? Can justice prevail in a system riddled with implicit bias? The courtroom drama becomes a microcosm of larger battles about accountability, empathy, and whether change is possible.