HOMESICKNESS

Eight richly descriptive stories examine the various textures of disappointment in families and communities where success is not the norm.

The stories in Barrett’s second collection, set in present-day Ireland and Canada, reveal a different sort of malaise than the title might suggest: Their characters are not so much longing for home as sickened by a place of psychological damage and, frequently, senseless violence. In the opening story, “A Shooting in Rathreedane,” that violence, as well as Barrett’s pitch-dark sense of humor, is on full display, as police officers in County Mayo head out to a farm to investigate the shooting of a young miscreant, “one of those prolific, inveterately small-time crooks who possessed real criminal instincts but no real criminal talent,” and who this time around was attempting to siphon oil from an empty fuel tank. Barrett nimbly balances the pathos of the situation with its troubling ridiculousness. “The Alps,” set during an increasingly drunken evening at a country football clubhouse, stretches out to include not just the three “shortish” brothers sporting the “bloodshot eyes, pouched necks and capitulating hairlines of middle age” whose nickname gives the story its title, but the whole community of drinkers in the bar and the mysterious sword-wielding stranger who invades their space. The collection’s long concluding story, “The 10,” watches dispassionately as waves of disappointment ripple outward from a young man, once a potential football star and now selling cars at his father's Nissan dealership, into the lives of his family, friends, and girlfriend. The fine distinctions of social class in his community are as clearly noted as the protagonist's subtle changes of mood. Barrett's playfully extravagant language makes the depressing stories more palatable even as it distances the reader from the plights of the characters.

This sharply observant collection resists pigeonholing its recalcitrant characters.