My reading has felt quite heavy of late, what with stories from the southern states of America and from Ireland. I think The Keeper of Stories must have been an Amazon recommendation, to which late at night I am rather susceptible. I liked the title but I had never read or even heard of the author. Looking her up I realised that I had previously read a book by her daughter, Libby Page, a story called The Lido. This is an uplifting community-based book which I enjoyed. I think I wrote about it a few years ago.
So, mother and daughter come from the same school of writing I think, as both books have a similar feel, a similar vibe. Everyone has a story of course. I don’t mean that silly phrase that ‘everyone has one novel in them’ but that everyone has a back story, a life story. Whether we choose to share this story with others, whether we choose to censor or abbreviate it, embroider it or simply invent an alternative version is the teller’s choice. It frequently depends on to whom we are speaking. On the other side is the listener. Many are not good at this, but a sympathetic listener is a treasure and will often receive the gift of a confidence; the teller finding themselves surprised at how much they are sharing.
The Keeper of Stories is Janice, a cleaner who visits many homes in the course of her work. The reader immediately feels that all is not well with Janice and we quickly feel on her side even before we know the state of her marriage and the distance that she imagines there is between her and much loved members of her family.
Sally Page presents us with a light-hearted story and I don’t use that term with any disapprobation. Her prose is confident and often funny. It flows well. This is somehow the sort of story where you soon begin to feel confident that nothing bad is going to happen and that all will come right in the end. Any surprises are gentle ones!
The character of Janice develops and opens like a flower. Inevitably she is not quite what we are led to believe she is at the beginning. There is far more to her than being an excellent cleaner. She gets involved in the lives of her clients in different ways but always positive ones. Some of the stories run into each other and interesting connections are made.
I have never had a cleaner myself, but I do have a hairdresser and I guess that both jobs invite stories, experiences and confidences from the customer. Some find it easier to confide in someone with whom there is no emotional attachment and maybe someone who won’t know if the truth is being rather sidelined. I suppose it can feel safe to talk in this way. There is less pressure if the listener is polishing a table whilst you are talking or watching carefully where the scissors are going. I have definitely heard some fascinating stories from the chair next to mine in the hairdressers. It always amazes me how much some people are willing to share. Cathartic possibly.
So, Janice is a good listener as well as a good cleaner and she collects the thoughts, the worries, the emotional entanglements and the life stories of those with whom she has coffee. Janice would say she has no story, a way of protecting herself I think, but of course she does. It is when she starts cleaning for a difficult and cantankerous old woman in her nineties that she finally meets someone who is determined to hear her story and inveigles her way into Janice’s trust.
So, this would make an excellent holiday read. If it is too early to think of beaches, then read it on a train or a plane. Alternatively it would go just as well on a comfy sofa with a mug of hot chocolate and possibly something small and sweet. My choice would be sugared almonds, I think.
P.S. If you fancy reading about the interesting genre of campus novels then do go to: beyondtheairingcupboard.co.uk. Donna Tartt, Alison Lurie, John Williams and more …