Stephen Finucan

The ten stories in this collection reveal a writer with a wealth of talent, a breadth of knowledge and experience, and the practical skill to deliver historical fiction, genre-esque homage, that special ex-pat sense of latent foreignness, and the traditional twist in the tail tale. It’s the kind of spread that makes you wonder whether Stephen Finucan hasn’t decided yet precisely what kind of writer he wants to be. Well, there’s no harm in that, given his youth. And in the meantime we get the benefit of a varied diet of solid fare.

Probably the best story in the collection is the title story, “Foreigners”, which captures the slight awkwardness of life in Britain for those who almost blend in but not quite. Canadians abroad, I suppose, is the underlying theme (Finucan also spent a lengthy period in England) but it is really much darker than that, entwined in grief and the various shortcomings of life. A very different Canadian experience is detailed in “An Irish Holiday”. A marriage is painfully stilted and no amount of verdant Irish countryside is going to cover up the cracks. “Casualties”, likewise, sees Canadians abroad, brothers this time, both of whose marriages are in terminal collapse. Mentioning these three stories first, however, may give the impression that Finucan is obsessing a bit on the lives of ex-pats. Not so. He is equally at home with a well-crafted historical tale of Josef Stalin’s early career, “Iosif in Love”. Or a thoroughly ghoulish cross between Conrad’s Heart of Darkness and a macabre tale from Edgar Allan Poe, “Devil Within”.

Finucan succeeds in the most challenging arena for any writer — giving you a reason to keep reading him. I was led to this collection after reading a story of his in a literary magazine. And having read these I am motivated to seek out more of Finucan’s oeuvre. Which is recommendation enough.… (meer)

Well.....I'm going to play the "Life's too Short" card here which I DON'T often do. But it's summer and it's a inter-library loan (with fines of a dollar a day...) and I just canNOT concentrate on this book. I keep reading and rereading the same paragraph with no clue about what's going on. I can't keep the characters straight in my short-term memory and, frankly, I've been procrastinating every night-checking FB, twitter, Goodreads notifications, anything to delay the nighttime reading ritual. It's just so NOT me; usually I cut corners at bedtime so I can dive back into my favourite part of the day: bedtime reading. Sigh. I won't blame the author or give a bad rating because it's unfair to do so when I got only 66 pages in. Sorry Mr. Finucan...I feel like I've let you down.… (meer)