In Episode 106 of the Good Scribes Only Podcast, hosts Daniel Breyer and Jeremy Streich dive into Claire Keegan’s Small Things Like These, a novella set in 1985 Ireland that grapples with morality, complicity, and quiet resistance. The story follows Bill Furlong, a hardworking coal merchant who stumbles upon the dark reality of the Magdalene Laundries—institutions run by the Catholic Church where thousands of women were confined and exploited.
Keegan’s novel is a restrained yet powerful examination of moral courage in the face of overwhelming societal pressure. Through its precise prose and subtle storytelling, Small Things Like These forces readers to ask: What does it take to stand up when no one else will?
Bill Furlong is a man of routine, balancing his work as a coal and timber merchant with his responsibilities as a father of five daughters. As Christmas approaches, his deliveries take him to a convent run by the Good Shepherd Nuns, where he encounters a young woman in distress—malnourished, locked away, and begging for help.
At first, Furlong does what many others would: he looks away. But as he reflects on his own past—raised by a kind Protestant widow who gave him opportunities he might not have had otherwise—he begins to wrestle with the implications of ignoring what he has seen.
“This book isn’t about grand heroics,” Jeremy notes. “It’s about the kind of small, personal choices that define who we are.”
Much of the novel’s tension comes from the town’s silent acceptance of the laundries. The abuse is an open secret—people know, but no one speaks.
Furlong’s wife, Eileen, embodies this passive complicity, warning him not to get involved:
“It’s only people with no children that can afford to be careless.”
Daniel reflects on the universality of this moral dilemma:
“How often do we ignore suffering because confronting it would be inconvenient or dangerous?”
The title, Small Things Like These, carries multiple meanings. It refers to the everyday comforts—family moments, Christmas traditions—that shape Furlong’s life. But it also speaks to how minor acts of neglect or courage accumulate into something greater.
Jeremy ties this to real-world issues:
“Big injustices don’t happen overnight. They’re built on a foundation of small things—small choices to look away, to stay silent.”
Set in 1985, a time when the Catholic Church still held immense power in Ireland, the novel subtly critiques institutional authority. The nuns, particularly the Mother Superior, maintain a polished public image while hiding horrifying abuses.
The hosts discuss how this dynamic mirrors broader historical patterns, where religious institutions have wielded power over the most vulnerable while facing little accountability.
“Keegan never moralizes,” Daniel observes. “She just presents the reality, and that’s what makes it so haunting.”
At just over 100 pages, Keegan’s novel is remarkably compact, yet it delivers an emotional weight that lingers. The writing is sparse and precise, evoking comparisons to Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol—a tale of redemption set against a bleak winter backdrop.
Jeremy reflects on the book’s brevity:
“There’s something about a perfectly distilled story. No wasted words, just pure storytelling.”
The novel is also being adapted into a film starring Cillian Murphy, set to premiere at the 2024 Berlin International Film Festival.
The book concludes with Furlong making the decision to help the girl, walking her away from the convent. But Keegan doesn’t provide a neat resolution—what happens next remains unknown.
Daniel argues that this ambiguity is intentional:
“It’s not about whether he succeeds in changing the system. It’s about the moment he chooses to act.”
For a deeper discussion on Small Things Like These and its themes of morality, complicity, and quiet resistance, tune in to Episode 106 of the Good Scribes Only Podcast.
