She keeps being sick. A woman in the washroom says:
"You'd be better off in the fresh air. Wouldn't you go up on the deck?"
It's cold on the deck and the wind hurts her ears. When she has been sick over the rail she feels better and goes downstairs again, to where she was sitting before she went to the washroom. The clothes she picked out for her journey are in two green carrier bags; the money is in her handbag. She had to pay for the carrier bags in Chawke's, fifty pence each. They have Chawke's name on them, and a Celtic pattern round the edge. At the bureau de change she has been given English notes in exchange for her Irish ones.
Not many people are traveling. Shrieking and pretending to lose their balance, schoolchildren keep passing by where she is huddled. A family sits quietly in the corner, all of them with their eyes closed. Two elderly women and a priest are talking about English race-courses.....
-Just in time for St. Patrick's Day! William Trevor spent a good portion of his life in England, but he *came from* Ireland, and so the Irish can claim him. (Trevor made a journey like his central character's journey. Ireland to England. The first sentence of the story picks up right where Trevor's famous title leaves off. What was Felicia's journey like? Well, she kept "being sick." Sick in more ways than one. And what is causing all this vomit? Trevor knows, and he suspects you'll want to find out.)
-Less is more. God is in the details. Content dictates form. Trevor quickly establishes not only that Felicia is on a ship, but also that she is money-focused. How? Not by spelling things out, but by returning again and again to the topic of money: "The money is in her handbag." "She had to pay for the carrier bags." "She has been given English notes in exchange for her Irish ones." There's a sense of unrest: Within a few sentences, we go from the washroom to the deck to the seating area.
-We also notice that Felicia is set apart from the people she is observing. Felicia seems to be the only person *alone* ....She is not shrieking with schoolchildren, or communing with family, or murmuring about English race-courses. She is alone--and she is "huddled." And she's puking. The tone is matter-of-fact, but the image is disconcerting.Who is this weirdo? Can she really take care of herself? Is the journey a great idea? More soon!
"You'd be better off in the fresh air. Wouldn't you go up on the deck?"
It's cold on the deck and the wind hurts her ears. When she has been sick over the rail she feels better and goes downstairs again, to where she was sitting before she went to the washroom. The clothes she picked out for her journey are in two green carrier bags; the money is in her handbag. She had to pay for the carrier bags in Chawke's, fifty pence each. They have Chawke's name on them, and a Celtic pattern round the edge. At the bureau de change she has been given English notes in exchange for her Irish ones.
Not many people are traveling. Shrieking and pretending to lose their balance, schoolchildren keep passing by where she is huddled. A family sits quietly in the corner, all of them with their eyes closed. Two elderly women and a priest are talking about English race-courses.....
-Just in time for St. Patrick's Day! William Trevor spent a good portion of his life in England, but he *came from* Ireland, and so the Irish can claim him. (Trevor made a journey like his central character's journey. Ireland to England. The first sentence of the story picks up right where Trevor's famous title leaves off. What was Felicia's journey like? Well, she kept "being sick." Sick in more ways than one. And what is causing all this vomit? Trevor knows, and he suspects you'll want to find out.)
-Less is more. God is in the details. Content dictates form. Trevor quickly establishes not only that Felicia is on a ship, but also that she is money-focused. How? Not by spelling things out, but by returning again and again to the topic of money: "The money is in her handbag." "She had to pay for the carrier bags." "She has been given English notes in exchange for her Irish ones." There's a sense of unrest: Within a few sentences, we go from the washroom to the deck to the seating area.
-We also notice that Felicia is set apart from the people she is observing. Felicia seems to be the only person *alone* ....She is not shrieking with schoolchildren, or communing with family, or murmuring about English race-courses. She is alone--and she is "huddled." And she's puking. The tone is matter-of-fact, but the image is disconcerting.Who is this weirdo? Can she really take care of herself? Is the journey a great idea? More soon!
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