Ah, Guests of the Nation was my gateway into short stories. I finished reading and anything that happened to me afterwards, I never felt the same about again.
Ah, Guests of the Nation was my gateway into short stories. I finished reading and anything that happened to me afterwards, I never felt the same about again.
Mine too, Niall and when I was reading George's comments on introductory and epilogue paragraphs, I thought of the ending of Frank O'Connor's story, the enormous emotional force of it! I remember the first time I read it... 1970, I was thirteen, imprisoned - as I saw it - in a catholic convent boarding school ... a grim winter evening and I'd run out of things to read so I borrowed an older girl's textbook - Exploring English 1 -and came across Guests of the Nation. I'd been an avid reader since I was about six, but mainly for escape or comfort or a laugh. After Guests of the Nation I think I became a different kind of reader, I started looking for stories that would make me feel part of 'it' all, get me thinking about things. I'll never forget that ending ( and anyone who hasn't read the story yet should skip this, but find that story and read it!) :
" Noble says he felt he seen everything ten times as big, perceiving nothing around him but the little patch of black bog with the two Englishmen stiffening into it; but with me it was the other way, as though the patch of bog where the two Englishmen were was a thousand miles away from me, and even Noble mumbling just behind me and the old woman and the birds and the bloody stars were all far away, and I was somehow very small and very lonely. And anything that ever happened me after I never felt the same about again"
Ah, Guests of the Nation was my gateway into short stories. I finished reading and anything that happened to me afterwards, I never felt the same about again.
Mine too, Niall and when I was reading George's comments on introductory and epilogue paragraphs, I thought of the ending of Frank O'Connor's story, the enormous emotional force of it! I remember the first time I read it... 1970, I was thirteen, imprisoned - as I saw it - in a catholic convent boarding school ... a grim winter evening and I'd run out of things to read so I borrowed an older girl's textbook - Exploring English 1 -and came across Guests of the Nation. I'd been an avid reader since I was about six, but mainly for escape or comfort or a laugh. After Guests of the Nation I think I became a different kind of reader, I started looking for stories that would make me feel part of 'it' all, get me thinking about things. I'll never forget that ending ( and anyone who hasn't read the story yet should skip this, but find that story and read it!) :
" Noble says he felt he seen everything ten times as big, perceiving nothing around him but the little patch of black bog with the two Englishmen stiffening into it; but with me it was the other way, as though the patch of bog where the two Englishmen were was a thousand miles away from me, and even Noble mumbling just behind me and the old woman and the birds and the bloody stars were all far away, and I was somehow very small and very lonely. And anything that ever happened me after I never felt the same about again"
Just seen Rosanne's comment now, which also quotes this ending (I've just joined and am playing catch up)