‘Our Lives’, first materializes in Kevin Barry’s, ‘Party at Helen’s’, a recollection of a party some fifteen years past, only the recollection is so vibrant that it’s like hearing Barry talk about it a couple of days after over coffee when the various levels of hangover have subsided.

It was in Galway, on a Saturday night, after the nightclubs had closed and the late roar of the streets had started to break up. A couple of dozen people – you’d say children if you could see them now – went back, in pairs and small groups, to a rented house.

It’s almost cinematic as we drift among the characters at the party, degrees of altered state enhancing already nuanced observation. A good-looking but slightly off young punter, sizing up a young woman over to the side.

Two words were enough to give it away as a Clare accent, flat and somehow accusatory, an accent he didn’t like, normally, but she was good-looking enough to get away with it. His accent was from further north, and a shade west, it was pure Roscommon. It was for roaring over chainsaws and slurring ballads to the fallen martyrs of Irish republicanism but he had honed it, somehow, to a hoarse-sounding, late night cool.

By the time you’ve been there awhile, the characters at the party are like old pals whose quirks seem somehow familiar but at moments, their ghosts seem to hover lightly in the background.

John Saul’s little piece, ‘Calais’, is a warm encounter between himself and a street cleaner from Gdansk, who he may or may not have dreamed. “Dark Horses’, by Claire Keegan, is about a fellow who’s blown a relationship with a woman he cared about. It wasn’t just that he’d said things when he’d had a few jars in him but more a dark side of him that surprised even his mates. It’s a quiet tragedy made all the more so in its un-sensational way.

There’s a Barcelona vignette, ‘Xavier, 1995’, written by Nuala Ni Chonchuir, about an impulse to help someone in trouble at the risk of losing the beautiful and moody Xavier in the deal. It begs the question of what’s worth what in the end.

Colin O’Sullivan looks at a rather one sided relationship between a fellow on stilts who takes a spill and a local would be tough guy, at least in his mind, in, ‘Avenging the Stilts Man’. Tony C tries to project an aura of danger about himself and whether or not that’s even noticed by the rest of the world is another question, but one that will leave you laughing as even the stilts man tries to politely decline the help.

The hard man theme is explored further in, ‘Bancher’s Daughter’, by Mary O’Donoghue, with a kind of chilling twist: Bancher’s daughter knows her knives. A chink of pride opens in his heart. He feels it widen, widening fit to split him asunder. A violent legacy and bond between a father and daughter depicted all too real.

Lightening up, just for a moment, is a prank among women friends that turns twisted in, David Butler’s, ‘Hen Night’. A young man, trying to better himself in the working world has social issues to confront and work out in, ‘Words Spoken’, by Aiden O’Reilly. ‘The Elephant as a Public Symbol’, by Maile Chapman, ponders whether or not one can go home again. It also questions if there was anything there to begin with. It’s a melancholy little piece but upbeat ultimately. The sensation of being cut adrift from that, which is known and familiar is taken further by Jennifer Brady in, ‘Another Map’.

If the Japanese art of paper folding, known as origami took a literary form, it would look like, ‘The Complicated Architect’, by Ronan Doyle. An odd but intriguing story about a man who takes the concept of houseguest to a strange and territorial place with his quiet Japanese host. As in origami, each part is folded neatly into the next to make a complex and delicate creation.

The collection finishes with a kind of fantastical, almost sci-fi piece called, ‘She Fed Her Heart on Fantasies’, by D.W.Lewis, that addresses the concept of sacrifice for love but using real body parts and organs to proclaim the extent and depth of one’s emotion. As with more mundane forms of sacrifice, this won’t necessarily hold the relationship together. Though larger than life, love and betrayal still feel the same.

This is an excellent group of stories and the level and quality of writing is stellar. Other equally talented writers included are, Antonia Hart, Phillip O Ceallaigh, Roisin McDermott, David Albahari, Kevin Power, Martin Malone, Maria Behan, Toby Litt, Mick Rainsford and Kathleen Murray. Declan Meade has done a superb editing job in both selecting the stories themselves and their placement. They flow seamlessly, one to the next as the book fairly reads itself.

Something has to be said for longevity – the first issue appeared in 1998 and here, looking down the barrel at 2007 approaching, ‘The Stinging Fly’ is still doing it and doing it well. There is a lot of dodgy work these days that passes for what’s called ‘new writing’ but Meade and ‘The Fly’ have found only the best and continue to do so. From the site: The Stinging Fly was established in 1997 to seek out, publish and promote the very best new Irish and international writing. We have a particular interest in encouraging new writers and promoting the short story form.

I think that Meade and ‘The Stinging Fly’ have succeeded and admirably.

Marc Goldin currently lives in Chicago, with three cats, each one more long-haired than the last. Interests have ranged from medieval monasticism to discontinued stations on the London Underground – literary likes too diverse (some would say schizo) to list here although the last several years have been witness to an intimacy with Scottish and Irish literature. American Southern and Beat era lit also account for some of the ‘missing years’. Music tastes run the gamut from Cuban Danzon to Ska (all three waves but having a specific attachment to the second, two-tone period) to the Tuvan throat singers. Has written book reviews for a now defunct Irish literature site and has several short stories in various stages of development. Mad for black and white photography and aspires to someday have a complete collection of photos documenting every close in the Grassmarket area of Edinburgh. Works in the IT dept. of a French company in the current political climate. In football, supports Chelsea, Hibs, and for the sake of employment security, Marseille. For more articles and reviews by Marc on The New Review, click here or to read Marc's story, 'Plastic Paddy' on the Showcase, click here