Cocktail Stories

A finely detailed debut collection of stories set in Canada from the 1960s to the present. Alward often begins in a sharply evoked past time and then swoops forward into the present to record the impact of a past experience on her characters. In the brief and evocative title story, she opens in the seemingly familiar territory of a party in the 1970s that is being observed by children exiled upstairs while "the grownups put on their party clothes and seemed to forget us." In her bedroom, the narrator, 10 or 11 at the time, is visited by one of her parents' friends, and what might have gone horribly wrong doesn't only because her brother appears at the door. Decades later, her parents divorced, the narrator finds herself inexplicably seeking this man "in beer cellars and dance halls and country-and-western bars." Two of the stories view a similarly splintered nuclear family from radically different angles. In "Old Growth," Gwyneth takes a road trip with her ex-husband, Ray, to check out some land he intends to buy, while in "Bear Country," set a few years earlier but appearing later in the collection, Ray, in the family cabin soon to be sold, spends the summer with his troubled teenage son while a bear lurks nearby. Alward is a master of near disasters: "Bundle of Joy" starts out as a satire about a critical mother going for a visit to meet her infant grandson and complaining about the infant's short legs and her son-in-law's beard, which reminds her of "a neglected box hedge." As grandma Ruth consumes ever more alcohol, the story veers into an account of an accident involving the child and then takes an unexpected turn into sympathy for Ruth. With a coolly dispassionate voice, Alward views the small horrors of domesticity, "the ungodly screech of the Fisher-Price phone as its bulbous eyes rolled back" or the creaking strain on a marriage inflicted by the necessity of removing six layers of wallpaper, and turns them into stories whose implications reverberate far beyond the walls of any home. Refreshingly tart reflections on family fragmentation and its aftershocks. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.