Review by New York Times Review
The people who live in the village of Glass are a sad lot, their lives suffused with a grayness that borders on oppressive. Located somewhere on the coast of England, the village links the stories in this debut collection about some very British characters who have all, in different ways, been disappointed by life. There's an old-fashioned air to the writing and the people, the Harolds and Walters and Esthers and their recollections of Trilby the florist, Herville the butcher, the old picture house, the trip to the big top - even, in "The Patroness," to a salon run by a wealthy widow and frequented by a collection of "not-quitefirst-rate artists." Owen is a gentle writer who tenderly sifts through his characters' lives, revealing the losses and regrets that stalk them. The title story is about two women, Erma and Violet, drawn together by their "corpulence" (Owen isn't the kind of writer who would call them fat), who live as companions for 20 years. But then comes Violet's death from heart failure and Erma's discovery of a "small curiosity" in Violet's will: an old desk bequeathed to the owner of a local pub. From that grows an obsessive, destructive doubt about what their years together had really meant to Violet. Like so many of Glass's citizens, Erma is among the "broken beings ... far past repair."
Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [September 16, 2018]
Review by Booklist Review
Set in an English coastal village called Glass, the stories in Owen's debut collection carefully and tenderly plumb the emotional lives of the villagers, whose past secrets and sorrows are still palpable wounds. Through silences and conversations between an aging jazz singer and a club owner, a boy and an adult family friend, a nurse and an elderly man perceived as homeless, Owen's characters search for connection and reconnection, for answers, and comfort. Owen's style of expression and unique metaphors can be so beautiful they make one stop and reread. They also punctuate the realistic dialogue and clear, bare description. Each story seems to follow a similar structure, beginning with one character's point of view and moving to the next point of view and the next. This might seem repetitive, but it creates a tidal rhythm, simultaneously dependable and engaging, and helps build cohesion among the linked narratives. Owen is a subtle and keen storyteller whose focus on love and relationships reminds us that headlines and hot topics hold no substance next to tales of the human heart.--Janet St. John Copyright 2018 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Owen's debut gathers lonely hearts from a town called Glass on England's southern coast and dissects their melancholy across 10 stories. Among those characters "who'd never managed to disguise their disappointment with life" is Eleanor. She's a kind nurse who, in "Lovers of a Kind," becomes fond of a local vagrant she suspects was in love with her missing, deranged mother. Tony, an orphan, spends a troubling afternoon at the circus with his only friend, Mr. Avery, in "At the Circus." There is May, a broken-hearted chanteuse who tolerates her besotted boss in "Virginia's Birthday," and the humiliated Kenneth, a dentist whose spirited ex-wife insists upon remaining his patient in "What Is Meant to Remain." One or two stories veer into the macabre, as when a solitary caregiver takes comfort-pleasure almost-as her elderly ward comes to believe she is his dead wife in "Housekeeper." And in the title story, Erma comes to the devastating conclusion after the death of her companion Violet that she was never loved in the way she, herself, loved. Owen populates his stories with those who drift, unmoored or lost-folk who believe themselves invisible, obsessed with memories and paths not taken. Though readers may wish for some light to balance the sadness, his is a lovely work of quiet, heart-wrenching prose. (Aug.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Library Journal Review
DEBUT "In the restaurant, people were eating alone," begins one story in this debut collection set in the English coastal town of Glass. (Owen was raised in both England and California, where he now lives.) Another story observes, "Sunday nights along the boardwalk are slow: locals retired, weekenders gone." Thus does Owen capture the sense of lives sometimes lonely, sometimes melancholy, yet moving steadily like the sea. In the touching opening piece, a woman caring for infants at a hospital seeks out an old man who knew her wild, dangerously irresponsible mother. He wants to help with the children, and when she must refuse, their friendship fades. The owner of a club remains in love with May, who sings there, though she has moved on; a woman tends house for a widower whose daughter rarely visits and finds connection as she reads to him; in the title story, Erma realizes after the death of longtime companion Violet that while she loved more deeply, people saw them as equally involved, itself a comfort. -VERDICT Quietly affecting stories for readers tired of fireworks. © Copyright 2018. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review
Lonely people look for love.Where do all the lonely people come from? The answer seems to be from Glass, the English seaside town that serves as a backdrop for debut author Owen's short stories. In one, a nurse meets a poor, unkempt man who was once in love with her mother. He asks to volunteer in her hospital, but she refuses him. In another, the owner of a failing nightclub has been in love with a singer for decades after their one-night stand. In yet another, an old man returns to a movie theater where he once fell in love before his date had to return home to her infirm husband. These characters are alone, unhappy, and, deep down, so very good. Owen's stories are uniformly moving (how could you not feel for these people?), but they often border on sentimentality. A few, however, show a bit more steel. In "The Patroness," the hostess of a salon and a formerly beautiful film star snipe at each other. At the end of the party, the hostess gives the actress some much-needed money, and the narrator wonders at her show of "such generosity and malice." In the standout story of the collection, "Housekeeper," an unmarried woman named Louise cares for an old man, who suffers from increasingly severe strokes. As his mental faculties decline, she takes on the persona of his late wife: "She began, then, to read aloud in the voice of another woman, as she had long imagined it. She felt as though she were taking part in a grand and exquisite drama." Louise is sweet and kind, to be sure. She's also more than a little bit creepy. It's an intriguing duality.While sometimes overly sentimental, this collection shows promise in its darker moments. Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
