William Trevor's "Making Conversation," from Last Stories, seems like a straightforward, if strange, episode where a woman is confronted by someone who accuses her of having an affair with her husband. She is not, but it's not that simple. Indeed, the story goes into some dark, painful territory.
William Trevor's "The Unknown Girl," from Last Stories, is a devastating look at a life that didn't seem worth living.
Trevor looks at William Trevor's "Taking Mr Ravenswood," from Last Stories. This is one of two stories in the collection that had not been published before.
Trevor looks at William Trevor's "At the Caffè Daria," from Last Stories, one of two stories in the collection that had not been published before.
William Trevor's "The Crippled Man," previously published in The New Yorker as "The Woman of the House," is a story about deliberate miscommunication, of relying on silence to get what you want.
Trevor looks at William Trevor's final collection of stories, a gift, Last Stories.
This week's New Yorker story is William Trevor's "Mrs. Crasthorpe."
This week's New Yorker story is "The Piano Teacher's Pupil," by the wonderful and recently departed William Trevor.
Lee reviews William Trevor's 2009 novel, Love and Summer, which "can't, of course, end well," but that is "brilliant, devastating, and masterfully wrought."
Over the past few years I've developed a deep love for William Trevor's short stories. Particularly this past month, regular visitors here have caught wind of this (and hopefully have sought him out if they did not already know his work). But until now, I had never read one of his novels, and he's written many in his 84 years. [...]