This is a VERY funny book about old people written by a young man. Not for those who never take the rose-tinted spectacles off, perhaps; "mordant" is the adjective that might in fact best describe the youthful Trevor's sense of humor. Members of People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals might also not greatly enjoy a chapter toward the end concerning the fate of a family cat. But in addition to making me virtually laugh out loud, it also reconciled me to growing old. In his own old age, William Trevor may be more humane and compassionate, and more deserving of veneration as a modern master of the short story, but this will continue to be the work of his that I re-read most often.
Norman Carlson