Where the Money Went by Kevin Canty is a collection of brilliant stories, each one a perfect encapsulation of those quiet but momentous events when a life is turned around and inside out, or picked up, soothed, and set on the right track again. His stories ride on an undercurrent of optimism against the odds, and the optimism is rewarded, maybe not with what was sought after but with a sudden clarity of vision: his characters don’t necessarily get what they want but they do gain an understanding, a morsel of wisdom, about life.  And because I was there with them, drawn in by Canty’s easy, flawless writing that takes its time to build a story, I understand also and more than I did before.  Only the first story, “Where the Money Went”, is a whip-quick snapshot of family life that offers no slice of wisdom but instead presents a bitter truth, its tragedy blithely presented.

Canty’s stories are funny, wise, and absolutely heart-touching. The writing is sometimes simple (“In my heart was the last place in the world you lived“) and often acute (“A delicious blinding cold went through him all at once in the cold lake-water, a dangerous bliss“) but always clear and genuine. His characters are ordinary people trying to do good, but pretty certain they will not quite make the cut to heaven:  “I don’t think I’m any worse than anybody else, I’m sure of it, in fact” comes from a man trying to reassure himself in the face of what he’s done but the words fall flat. The only solace –maybe even forgiveness — he finds is in being alone, unreachable, swaddled in a sudden snowstorm.