The Bee Sting by Paul Murray: A review

This book has been highly acclaimed by just about everyone who has reviewed it and now it has been shortlisted for the Booker Prize, so obviously it must have a lot that's good going for it. So why did it leave me dissatisfied?

The Bee Sting is the story of the Barnes family, a family that is in trouble and struggling to maintain its station in life as the husband/father's car business hits the skids and he seems incapable of doing anything to save it. Instead, he spends his time out in the woods preparing for the actual end of the world while his wife, Imelda, sells off her jewelry on eBay.

Meanwhile, their teenage daughter, Cass, who has always been a top student in her class, has started drinking as a way of coping with the situation at home, and twelve-year-old PJ is obsessed with video game forums. On one of those forums, he has met someone named Ethan who is encouraging him to run away from home.

So, we have a family about to fly apart and the question is, "Can this family be saved?" And, perhaps, should it be?

Paul Murray is a very good writer and this is a well-written book, but I think it could have benefitted from a stricter editor. The Kindle version of the book, which is what I read, is 736 pages long! It could have been a hundred pages - maybe even 200 pages - shorter and still told the story and, in my opinion, it would have been a better book.

I did enjoy the book even in its great length and I really have no criticism of it other than the fact that it is just too long. While reading it, I frequently had the urge to say to the writer, "Just get on with it!" That, I think, is not the reaction the writer was going for.

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters! Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...

The Nature of Things

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