Small Things Like These

Could I describe this book as an explicitly Dickensian novella without sounding like a pretentious twat? Probably no. The protagonist is a very good man, Billy, whose desire to 'not cast the first stone' and 'do to others what you would have them do to you' is fundamentally at odds with the norms of the Catholic Church and the deprived village community that abides by them. Just a few days before Christmas, he finds himself visiting the local Magdalene house, and losing the ability to ignore it [why had he been able to look away until that moment? likely, he had been understandably focused on his own survival]. Will he do the right thing? Reader, you can guess. Is it annoying to have an almost flawless male hero surrounded by women in distress? For me, the setup was saved by the fact that Billy is explicitly trying to pay forward the kindness of his own benefactor, Mrs Wilson. Mrs Wilson was a wealthy woman, and Billy is a man who is better off than most of his peers, because, believably, a little privilege helps when you're fighting evil nuns.

In other hands, this could have been a really sappy and moralistic story. I'm actually amazed that it is not.