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Sep 22, 2015alpaca85 rated this title 4 out of 5 stars
Alice Munro’s Lives of Girls and Women is less of a novel and more of an uninterrupted stream of golden-tinged memories, unrepentant nostalgia and frank reality. Following the character of Del, a young girl growing up in rural Ontario at some undetermined point in the mid-20th century, we watch as she matures from the quiet, childish girl casually listening in on her parent’s adult conversations to a wiser, hardened woman experiencing her first pangs of desire. This transition is not unique; indeed, it is an experience I am sure much of the adult population will be able to relate to. But, the humanism with which Munro paints Del’s burgeoning journey to adulthood is remarkable. Consider the way in which Munro turns the dull, unoriginal workings of a small town into a nest of sadness and insanity. The picture perfect village of Jubilee slowly devolves into a character study of multiple individuals, flitting in and out of Del’s life. There is her mother, a fiercely independent and intellectual woman who refuses to conform to the small-town’s notions about femininity and a women’s place in society. Then there is her best friend Naomi, who, after being stricken by an ailment, moves away from her and Del’s former childish curiosity towards a life of simple domesticity, infuriating the ambitious Del. Even more, there is Jerry Storey, an intellectual equal but hardly an exciting male presence in her life. These people flit in and out of the pages of the book, binding Del to the idiosyncratic nature of Jubilee. Indeed, each chapter within the book marks a progression, a leap in time, giving us a different picture of Del every time. From the inward looking, reclusive child, she slowly becomes more and more self-aware, and, over the course of the book, she matures in a way which Munro’s writing handles with grace and tact. It would have been easy to over sentimentalize Del’s journey, to treat it as an exception rather than a typical storyline. But, Munro’s naturalism gives her the breadth and ability to convey the story in a way that is simultaneously low-key and incredibly exciting. Within the mundanity of Del’s life, we find sudden bursts of action and passion. Munro’s ability to transform normal, everyday events into spellbinding literature is a rare gift, and here she shows herself to be well on top of her genre. Lives of Girls and Women is not an original book. Those who read it will likely find themselves unsurprised by the plot developments, bar perhaps a few unexpected diversions, and the characters will likely seem familiar and clichéd. However, the true beauty and genius in this novel is how it transcends mere genre tropes, instead heading straight towards the truth of the unbearable awkwardness of adolescence, and the restless allure of a forgotten childhood. Munro’s characters do not serve to remind the reader of familiar notions, but to expand upon them, to allow one to glimpse a familiar world through a familiar perspective, and yet see more than could have ever been imagined. That is the true genius behind this novel and what makes it a truly memorable read.