In her final Novellas in November post, Cathy (746 Books) wrote about Claire Keegan’s short story “So late in the day”, and included an online link to the story. Having not read any of Keegan’s writing, to that point, and feeling the lack, I pounced – and was not disappointed.
“So late in the day” is a beautifully observed story told through the eyes of a man named Cathal. In it, he reflects on his relationship with a woman, Sabine, whom we come to realise is no longer around. Why? The story starts by encouraging us to empathise with him. His work colleagues seem worried about him, and his boss encourages him to go home early. The opening paragraph contains hints of things being a little awry or disturbed. It’s gloriously subtle. Every word carries weight, which makes the reading pure pleasure as you ponder just what the straightforward-sounding words and sentences are really signifying.
Life is clearly discombobulated for Cathal. For example, as he makes his way home, we are told:
For no particular reason, a part of him doubted whether the bus would come that day, but it soon came up Westland Row and pulled in, as usual.
The “for no particular reason” is telling, because there is a reason he feels uncertain, albeit we don’t know it yet, and his unawareness of why he feels this way is part of the issue.
So, the bus comes, and he finds himself sitting next to a woman who seems to want to talk. Hmm… he’s not happy. Soon, however, she turns to her book, The woman who walked into doors. Now, it’s a rare writer who inserts books into their stories randomly, but I didn’t know this book, so off I went to the internet and very quickly found that it is by Roddy Doyle. The Guardian quotes him on why he wrote this book which features a pre-existing character of his: “I had to give Paula a chance to explain why: why she married this man in the first place, and why she stayed with him.”
Gradually, then, the penny drops, but oh so slowly, because Keegan’s story is told from a man’s point of view, and this man is so woebegone, so clueless.
This is the sort of writing I like, writing that challenges the reader to work a bit, to read between the lines and not jump to simplistic responses. Cathal is an unreliable narrator. He does not see the whole truth, but Keegan draws out, from his own mouth, exactly what has happened, so that it all becomes clear to us, the reader, while he remains locked in his cluelessness.
There’s another challenge for the reader, though, besides sussing out what has happened, and it’s to do with how we feel. We start by feeling sympathy for him. He’s sad and lonely. But, as he talks about Sabine, a picture builds up. He is the more passive one in the relationship, but more than that, he is the taker. She organises the outings. She cooks, though he does grudgingly clean up, resenting the mess she makes. She’s generous, doesn’t “mind the cost” of nice food, spending “freely” at the markets, while he either tots up costs or, when he’s paying, makes mean choices. When he proposes to her, it’s devoid of romance. Is he emotionally repressed, and should we continue to feel for him, or is something else going on?
Quite late in the story, in a telling flashback, he remembers an occasion from his childhood. His brother had played a nasty trick at the dinner table on their nearly sixty-year-old mother, and instead of remonstrating with him the father joins the laughter. In this anecdote, and his reaction to it, we see the depth of his disconnect in how to relate to a woman, which adds to our growing awareness of an ungenerous, self-centredness in him. He doesn’t know how to give. There are occasional glimmers of awareness, but by the end, when we know exactly why he is so sad, why this day is so hard for him, we are left wondering what to think about him. Can he change? Or, more to the point, does he realise he needs to change? Does he fully comprehend the depth of his failure?
The French-translated title for this story is Misogynie, which makes no bones about its over-riding theme, but I like the subtlety, the multi-layered meanings behind “So late in the day”. To tease that out here, however, really would spoil the story for any of you wanting to read it.
Meanwhile, I’ll share this from early in the story. As Cathal is leaving work, we are told
He would ordinarily have taken out his mobile then, to check his messages, but found that he wasn’t ready—then wondered if anyone ever was ready for what was difficult.
Good question, but it doesn’t augur well for our narrator’s development does it?
An absolute gem of a story.
Claire (Word By Word) also liked it.
Claire Keegan
“So late in the day”
in The New Yorker, 28/2/2022
Available online at The New Yorker.
Whispering Gums 
Yes, this is a good one… but I still resent paying $20 for it when I could have read it for free online ☹️
I understand that, Kimbofo. While I don’t think value and length are closely related, and I will pay for a classic rather than read it online, $20 for one short story that you can find for free is a lot.
I don’t mind buying books… indeed, I spend more than $100 a month on them, but this did feel a bit like the publisher was cashing in on Keegan’s sudden rise in popularity. (I first read her back in 2011!!)
Understand … you could be right because little books containing one short story aren’t usually that sort of price are they.
This does sound excellent (and impressive in how it’s done) as does all else I’ve heard about her work. I did read Cathy’s post but likely overlooked the link bit. But now I am tempted to give this one a try before picking up her other writings.
I would Malkka. My guess is that it’s a good intro to how she writes, and to her ability to get you in.
Another lesson in book reviewing. 🙂
Thanks MR, glad you like this review.
I fell in love with Claire Keegan’s writing in 2023! Read her novellas, watched the film (The Quiet Girl) based on one of them (Foster), saw her interviewed at Melbourne Writers Festival, and I’ve nearly finished her short story collection Antarctica. Her books are 50-100 pages of text and 1,000 pages of subtext. Looking forward to So Late in the Day as a Xmas holiday treat.
Thanks Angela. I did see The quiet girl. You can see her in it can’t you?
I love this: “50-100 pages of text and 1,000 pages of subtext”. Describes her writing well, as I experienced it here. I am keen to read more.
It’s a tough call but I think ‘Small things like these’ is my favourite. Enjoy, Sue.
Thanks Angela. I gave this as a Christmas present a couple of years ago but haven’t read it myself. I am keen to read it, so will try
I’ve been sitting on my response to this story (& another short story by Keegan) for a couple of months now, but you’ve just written the perfect review, so I’ll just link to you I think Sue!
I love that you found out about the Roddy Doyle book the bus lady was reading – a nice touch from you and from Keegan.
Oh thanks Brona. I took several days to write this review so I’m glad it’s come across well. Happy (flattered, in fact) for you to link to it of course!
It sounds like a quietly powerful story. I like the ones that reveal how we learn and absorb patterns and ideas about the world. Although of course many will say that they don’t want to spend time with characters they don’t like. As if we’re aren’t all unlikeable…to some, at least…or, at least, part of the time. heheh
Thanks Marcie … yes, exactly, re unlikable characters. In some ways, the more unlikable they are, the more interesting they can be. But, I do also like reading about flawed but generally likeable characters too!
I loved this one as well (and thanks for that Roddy Doyle link).
Thanks Kate … did you review it. I’ll try to check tomorrow. I’m about to crawl off to bed as it’s been a busy week.
I loved it too! Keegan is amazing!
Thanks Davida, I hadn’t realised so many bloggers had read this!
This is one of those books that took off because her previous book, Small Things Like These was such a hit, which was short listed for the Booker Prize. She didn’t need to win that prize for readers to realize what an amazing writer she is, and start seeking out her books.
Yes, I know about the Booker book. I gave it to my SIL that Xmas but still haven’t read it myself
Oh, you should… if you like her writing.
I’ve read several Roddy Doyle books, and The Woman Who Walked Into Doors is one of the most surprising and visceral. I want to read the sequel, which follows on the first novel. I never knew the novel was based on a limited series TV show in which Paula was doubted by viewers. That’s interesting and surprising…. though maybe not for the time during which it came out.
Thanks Melanie. I think I need to read it. Surprising and visceral sound good.
Roddy Doyle just seems like a keen, thoughtful man, and the way he writes from a woman’s perspective so convincingly tells me he’s just straight up a great writer.
Don’t tell Bill … men aren’t supposed to write women, and vice versa, you know! But, he sounds good to me.
I won’t tell Bill.
It is an interesting question, though: should Doyle write a domestic violence story through a woman’s perspective when there are likely many women in Ireland who have experienced his story personally? Why can’t these women tell their own story? I guess the answer is that not everyone is a writer, and from what I’ve read, a lot of women who are victims haven’t the time, money, resources, or connections to tell their story and have it published. Doyle’s book brought a ton of attention to the issue of domestic violence in the highly religious Ireland at a time when most people felt such a thing couldn’t possibly be happening BECAUSE it’s such a religious place.
Oh good, then Bill will never know what we think about this!
What you say is all valid. Of course we want “own stories” but for all the reasons you give, and more (such as hearing other ways of telling stories) I don’t think we should reject non-own voices outright. My view always is that non-own voices need to be prepared for criticism. There is the issue of appropriation but I think we can take that too far. As I’ve said before, taken to the nth degree, it would mean that I could only write about a white Australian women JUST LIKE ME – my age, my demographic, my life experience. The only imagination allowed to me would be telling my story in an interesting way.
On the one hand, I felt a little odd about a woman I know writing stories about Lesotho. Her experiences stemmed from time there as part of the peace corps. So, yes, her own experiences might have read differently, but she chose to write stories from the perspectives of the people from the country, and that sat wrong with me. On the other hand, in the U.S. the AIDS epidemic largely affected black and brown communities, but it wasn’t until a white republic woman who delivered a speech about her diagnosis (her husband was cheating on her, had contracted AIDS, and passed it to her) that finally reached the first Bush’s administration and they decided to get the government involved. It was a big turn in awareness, education, and funding for research.
Disgusting isn’t it … that minorities aren’t cared about. You can understand their frustration and anger, their sense of invisibility.
Thank you for alerting me to this short story, Sue! You’re right, it is indeed a gem – so much going on under the surface! I haven’t read anything by Claire Keegan before, so I’ll be searching out some of her work.
Great Teresa … I’ve been wanting to read her since her book Small things like these got so many accolades, and now I’m even more keen to read more of her.
It IS a gem of a story and thank you for your masterpiece of a review! I’m glad I didn’t know the French title when reading it because the gradual reveal was such an enthralling read. The English title also seems to imply that it might be too late for him to change.
Yes, good point Carolyn. I’m glad to re the French title, because you’re right, it would have given too much away. I love the English published title : So late in the day has so many meanings – the one you suggest which I agree is one of the themes/ideas of the story, the idea that Sabine’s decision came late in the day, the literal one that the story is mostly set late in the day, to name three layers.
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