The springs of affection

The subtitle of this book is "Stories of Dublin," which led me to expect sweet little vignettes of Dublin in the second half of the 20th century. But it was not Dublin that Brennan was featuring in this collection, at least not the same Dublin that serves as the backdrop for the writing of her kinsman, the good-humored author Roddy Doyle. In his biographical work about his parents, Maeve Brennan is described by Ita Doyle as a worldly woman of spirit and joy de vivre. This same description is offered by William Maxwell in his lovely introduction to this book. Maxwell, Brennan's editor at "The New Yorker," describes a spirited little woman who loved to play jokes on her co-workers. Brennan's territory in this volume is the human psyche rather than her home town of Dublin. And what she sees as she lays bare the hearts of her characters could never be considered lighthearted. The stories in this volume that deal with the marriage of Rose and Hubert can only be classified as oppressive, so stifling that at times I had to put down the book to allow myself to breathe. I found the second group of stories, which focused on Delia and Martin, to contain a bit more of the sweetness that is associated with Brennan. When it comes to delineation of character, Maeve Brennan is a star. When it comes to evoking a place, I am of the opinion that it is Wexford that fares best in this collection of stories. It is there, at the family gathering that marks the wedding of Delia and Martin, that Delia's old aunt gives voice to the underlying theme of these stories: "The Slaney is in full flood," she says, "and the springs of affection are rising around us." This stories tell of springs that rise and fall and sometimes rise again.