I’m choosing “The Turkey Season” for my short story. I guess I can’t really tell you why; I was just intrigued by it. The story itself is very simple – Rose gets a job on a turkey farm and her job is to gut the birds so they can be sent out. Several other people work there and the story focuses a lot on Rose’s observations of the other characters, most of whom are much older than her.

First of all, it floored me that a 14-year old girl could feel at home not only surrounded by dead turkeys, but also pulling out their insides with her bare hands. Sure, she was uncomfortable when she first took the job, but not because of the turkeys. She was nervous that she would mess up and be no good at it, just like everything else she tried to do. She was also afraid of making mistakes in front of Herb Abbott.

I’m tempted to say that Herb Abbott is an interesting character, but I actually didn’t find him in the least bit interesting. Rose finds him profoundly fascinating, but none of the intrigue rubbed off on me. His sexuality is in question, though it is the narrator who makes the assertion that he was “probably” gay, and not Rose in the story. People could probably argue that Rose desired Herb in a sexual way, but I didn’t get that impression. I felt like she wanted him in a fatherly way because of her emotional distance from her own father. Either way, Herb seemed to be the near-center of “The Turkey Season,” which I found very dull.

I can’t decide whether or not I actually like the story. Rose tells a good deal about the people she works with, but for some reason I never felt like I really knew them. I didn’t get a lot of insight into any of the characters, including Rose herself. It was like they were all personality but no actual person; they were flat and had no substance. This is perhaps because the story is clearly being written from future memory. Maybe the narrator’s memory has faded. Maybe Munro is just trying to capture the understanding of a 14-year old, but when I was 14 I knew there was more to people than what I could see. Whatever the case, I found the story fairly bland, which is why I won’t bore anyone with a passage from it.

Oh my-Alice Munro-did I say her writing was edgy? Yes, I did & now that I've read several I'd say definitely! And I can't skim her writing -darn. Her story begins & immediately she's off on a tangent, into another realm of conciousness, then back for a few sound-bites and just as you take a deep breath she's describing another irrelevancy. An intense curiosity for something new will keep you reading or you may stay with the story because you're in awe of her detail and/or wierdness and/or her tall tale telling. Even saying that I must admit that much of what I've read I know happens but thank goodness, not to me.
My story was first in the book-ROYAL BEATINGS-and what was the theme? Perhaps it was competition. This is a step-mother and approaching teen years daughter. Mom was a unsophisticated and unwise woman. She was earthy and kind-hearted and surely not a learned or thinking kind of gal. Young Rose was a clever agitator kid...and good old dad? Well perhaps he had pent-up anger and that old-time woodshed smack-em around method of 'discipline.' The kind that if used today can put you away for a while. From pg17,"When she says it isn't true, Rose means that she herself didn't start this, only responded, that she was goaded by Flo, who is now, she believes, telling the grossest sort of lies, twisting everything to suit herself. Rose puts aside her other knowledge that whatever Flo has said or done, does not really matter at all. It is the struggle itself that counts, and that can't be stopped, can never be stopped, short of where it has to go now.". . . "Her father wipes his hands, listening to Flo. He takes his time. He is slow at getting into the spirit of things, tired in advance, maybe, on the verge of rejecting the role he has to play. He won't look at Rose, but at any sound or stirring from Rose, he holds up his hand."
The detail of Munro's descriptions do paint a vivid scene of the action-enough to visualize in living color and to feel the emotion. I read that Munro "explored human complexities in a seemingly effortless style" and of that I agree.

Although my initial thought after reading the first story assigned from Alice Munro’s collection was a bit flighty, I found her writing style to be quite enjoyable by the time I put the book down. Fact of the matter is, she could easily make each one of her stories into Russian novels, which I would have to say is how I would describe these stories to begin with, but miraculously she manages to fit these novels onto a few pages. It seems that the stories themselves are built around character development, because she will start a plot sequence in some said number of paragraphs, break away into little tangents and backgrounds of all the characters, and then within the last some said number of pages (or paragraphs depending on the story) could tie it all together with what the story had originally started off being about. That’s where the Russian novel reference would come in I suppose. Anyway, moving on…

So the story that I chose, to make it easy I guess, was the first story in the collection “Royal Beatings”, which didn’t turn out to be the most entertaining out of the others read, but that’s beside the point. We have a stepmother (Flo), father, daughter (Rose), and half-brother (Brian) all living in a store that looks like a house in Hanratty, Ontrario. Rose is bit of a nuisance to Flo and her father, or so it seems that way in the story, even though her father is extremely quite and removed, and Flo is just kind of lost because she’s not that smart. Rose’s real mother is dead, and we find out that Flo is the only thing Rose knows as a mother, but Flo has told her (almost in a mocking sort of way) the story of her mother’s death, which makes the reader wonder what kind of rocks the stepmother’s got rolling around in that head of hers. The next 10-15 pages are pretty much filler; then Rose gets one of these “royal beatings” from her father; skips to many years later where Rose has moved to Toronto after putting Flo in a home…end of story. I guess the whole story is about rivalry within the family, mostly between Rose and Flo. Rose probably just wants more attention from her father and displays it through acting out towards her dumb stepmother.

So the two passages that I chose were ones that I could relate to as a child, and both made me laugh after reading.

“Macaroni, pepperoni, Botticelli, beans-“
What could that mean? Rose used to repeat such things to herself. She could never ask him. The person who spoke these words and the person who spoke to her as her father were not the same, though they seemed to occupy the same space. It would be the worst sort of taste to acknowledge the person who was not supposed to be there; it would not be forgiven. Just the same, she loitered and listened (pg. 4)

I liked this passage because as a child, parents are usually the most fascinating creatures when it comes to figuring things out about being older. I remember listening to “adult conversations” and trying to figure out how the hell they could actually just talk for hours at a time. Nothing of what they said made any sense to me, but for some reason the other person always had something else to say…and for some reason it might be something important. Who knows. This is how I read this passage when Rose was spying on her father, thinking this man and her father to be two different people (obviously not in a literal sense).

The second passage was right after Rose received her royal beating:

In this state events and possibilities take on a lovely simplicity. Choices are mercifully clear. The words that come to mind are not the quibbling, seldom the conditional. “Never” is a word to which the right is suddenly established. She will never speak to them, she will never look at them with anything but loathing, she will never forgive them. She will punish them; she will finish them. Encased in these finalities, and in her bodily pain, she floats in curious comfort, beyond herself, beyond responsibility (pg. 20).

I couldn’t tell you exactly what it is about a beating that makes a kid think such things, but this description of Rose’s thought process after being sent to her room was spot on. Who hasn’t vowed revenge against their parents at least once? For me, maybe more like once a day, but punishing your parents after they punish you is in the childhood guidebook to survival. Talk about your life lessons. Anyway, you never really follow through with any of the things that you were so passionate about minutes before, because parents are intimidating as hell, and if they’re not, then they’re probably not great parents. My point being that we as children get the last laugh; for as Rose did to Flo, we can just put them in a home if they get too out of hand.

My favourite story had to be THE BEGGAR MAID. It is about a girl named Rose who falls in love with a boy named Patrick. Patrick eventually asks Rose to marry him, but after having second thoughts and something resembling a mental breakdown, Rose tells Patrick that she cannot marry him. After breaking her engagement with Patrick, Rose finally decides to marry him. Her marriage proves very erratic in nature and she divorces him after being married for nine years.

As with all of Munro's short stories within this collection, I appreciate her perspicacious observation of her characters. She has a way of leaving the majority of conventional descriptions out of the story and only notes traits that most conventional authors would fail to mention. These descriptions add an amazing depth to her characters and always manage to play an intricate role within the plot in some subtle manner. I especially enjoy Munro's initial description of Patrick:

"There was something edgy, jumpy, disconcerting about him. His voice would break under stress- with her, it seemed he was always under stress- he knocked dishes and cups off tables, spilled drinks and bowls of peanuts like a comedian. He was not a comedian; nothing could be further from his intentions" (28).

I find this description quite funny because Patrick is so awkward around Rose. He becomes so nervous in her presence because he feels so strongly about her. One would think he was trying to be funny, and this discrepancy between his true character and his outward actions is rather comical. His awkwardness is somewhat of a charming quality as well because it causes him to appear as quite innocent to the reader and most likely Rose as well.

Even Dr. Henshawe, whom Rose lives with during her college years takes note of Patrick's qualities:

"She called Patrick poor because he was in love, and perhaps also because he was a male, doomed to push and blunder. Even from up here he looked stubborn and pitiable, determined and dependent, sitting out there in the cold" (28).

This description of Patrick waiting below Dr. Henshawe's apartment window for Rose further highlights the hopeless nature of this character in love. Rose later describes him as the most vulnerable person she knows. I cannot help but feel sorry for Patrick especially because I already know of the turbulent years of the relationship to ensue between Rose and him. The rest of the story progresses in a disjointed format as seems to be common with most of Munro's stories. She allows for her characters (Rose in this case) to recall memories as they enter their minds, never in any particular order. This method of disjointed narrative proves more realistic and more enjoyable for the reader because one must remain engaged to accurately sort through the events that occur.

After Rose has divorced Patrick, she sees him nine years later at Pearson International Airport in Toronto. As I had expected of many former lovers, their relationship had changed drastically. When Patrick sees Rose:

"He made a face at her. It was a truly hateful, savagely warning, face; infantile, self-indulgent, yet calculated; it was a timed explosion of disgust and loathing. It was hard to believe. But she saw it" (63).

Patrick's reaction to Rose sums up their current relationship. Whatever was once close between these two individuals has turned to hate. Munro always seems to be a very believable and realistic when tracing the progression of the histories of two people.

I truly enjoyed the story The Beggar Maid. Not because it had a great story line; it was quite saddening actually. But, the language and honesty of the characters made the story enjoyable. The plot is simple. A young man and a young woman meet and fall in love. However, the love that Rose has for Patrick isn’t the fluffy, lovey, through the moon, utterly obsessed sort of affection. It is rather practical. She has to remind herself that he is good looking in order to counteract his plainness. I think Rose knew all along that she wouldn’t be happy with Patrick, that the relationship was an easy way out, but because of Roses’ own fault and lack of security I think that is why she gave in. Rose and Patrick become engaged, but then Rose breaks it off. Of course, eventually she marries him and they are married for 9 years.

I like this story because, firstly, there is a sense of bluntness and honesty. The very first line of the story is, “Patrick Blatchford was in love with Rose.” Right away as the reader we know what is going on. But, there is something underlying in that line. It doesn’t say that she was in love with him, or that he loved her and she loved him back. It says that he loved her, and that is it, which is a precursor to what we learn about their relationship.
I really like the descriptions that Munro uses to describe how Rose feels about Patrick. For instance, “He could make a puddle of her, with his fierce desire. There would be no apologizing with him, none of that flinching that lack of faith that seemed to be revealed in all transactions with Patrick.” Or, “She did scandalous things to him. When he kissed her lips were soft; his tongue was shy; he collapsed over rather than held her, she could not find any force in him.” I love how Munro juxtaposes the idea and image of a man collapsing with the image of a man holding someone tight. They are both connections, but one is so heavy and unwanted, while the other image is desirable and securing.
When Rose goes with Patrick to visit his family I like how Munro describes his mother. It is such a stiff description. “It was alright to say, ‘This is a warm day,’ but not ‘This day reminds me of when we used to-‘ She hated being reminded.” That is such a small detail of someone, something that I think I would not pick up on, but that is one of Munro’s strengths in this story and the others; noticing. Of course, beyond that there is her descriptive abilities as well that I admire. At the end of the story when Rose runs in to Patrick at the airport the way that Munro describes his reaction is great because it makes his emotions so clear. “He made a face at her. It was a truly hateful, savagely warning, face; infantile, self-indulgent, yet calculated; it was a timed explosion of disgust and loathing.” This reveals that the end of the story isn’t exactly pleasant, but it’s very real.

So, initially reading "The Progress of Love" I didn't think I was going to enjoy Alice Munro's writing. However, after reading through the end of the short story, and onto Miles City, Montana and so on, I began to get a feel for her style. I love that she mixes the random, almost meaningless details of the lives of her characters with extremely profound statements in each story, and that her stories can be unpleasant.

Along with Fey, I also chose "The Turkey Season" as the short story to read. (Maybe because I saw one in South Burlington the other day, who knows.) Anyway, I found that unlike the other short stories of hers we've discussed, there weren't as many sentences that really caught me off guard. The story, as summed up above, is pretty much about Rose's experience working on a turkey farm and the continuous questioning of Herb's sexuality.

I wouldn't argue that this is the best short story I've ever read. It has it's good points, and I continuously felt myself feeling bad for Gladys, who is pushed and picked on by the other women to go after Herb and ultimately is humiliated by Brian (who we later find out is Herb's lover). It's obvious through Rose's perception of Gladys that even Rose isn't sure about Gladys' intentions. On page 72, Rose ponders," It is impossible for me to tell with women like her whether they are as thick and deadly as they seem, not wanting anything much but opportunities for irritation and contempt, or if they are all choked up with gloomy fires and useless passion."

Other than Gladys' character, Herb is questioned as well. Rose mentions that homosexuality wasn't exactly a dinner conversation during the 1940s, and that although there were homosexuals in their town, that most women were in disbelief that it was common. So throughout the short story, the women constantly chatter about the kind of person Herb is, and what he wants in life, and how he can live without things that he doesn't have (mainly a wife). At one point, even Rose chimes in and tries to get details from Herb about why Brian left.

Overall the story was pleasant, but no overly exciting. It was interesting to see the perception of a 14 year old girl who enjoyed gutting turkeys and building relationships with older women, but nothing struck me as overtly profound.

My favorite story from Alice Munroe’s collection of stories is definitely Miles City, Montana. Like one student mentioned in their post, I initially found Munroe’s writing to be somewhat flighty. At the start of the story, I was wondering how Munroe was going to connect all the different aspects of life that she was talking about. For example, the story starts off talking about a young boy Steve, who drowns in a river. We learn that Munroe had known Steve when she was younger, and her reflection on the both the drowning and her memory of the events associated with it, really seems to capture the human condition. Often times we think we witness one thing, but then as we go back and process the moment, we realize we are conflicted between what we thought we saw and what we actually did see. When she describes Steve physically after he drowns she states, “His face was turned into my father’s chest, but I could see a nostril, an ear, plugged up with greenish mud.” (131) Munroe then separates what she thinks she witnesses, and what she actually probably witnesses, with a new paragraph. In this paragraph she states, “ I don’t think so, I don’t think I really saw all this.” (131) In contradicting these two accounts, Munroe displays humans attempts to recall specific details from events, often times strange details that we don’t always know why we remember them so vividly.
I love how Munroe describes an earlier experience in life, and use it as a vehicle for another more in depth story. Andrew, her two children, and her, set out on a road trip to meet up with Andrew’s parents. This trip allows us to examine human’s relationships with one another more closely, while keeping the story moving swiftly. For example, Meg, and Cynthia’s physical descriptions, as well as personalities, allow us to feel more closely linked to the characters in the story. Cynthia is, “bright and diligent, sensitive, courteous, watchful.” Meg on the other hand is, “more solidly built, more reticent-not rebellious but stubborn sometimes, mysterious.” Munroe goes on to state, “we were entirely pleased with these characters, enjoying their contradictions as well as the confirmations of them.” (137) Coming from a large family, I can appreciate Munroe’s explanation “contradictions” and “confirmations” of characters. In my family, each member has their own identity, and through contradictions in characters we are able to laugh, and even tease, and when they confirm their character, we are equally entertained. Even when it’s hard to laugh, we do, understanding that there of some things in humans that we cannot change, not matter how hard we try. Munroe elaborates further on these contradictions when describing her relationship with Andrew, whom she loves, but also seems to hate at the same time. This honest account of how many marriages and relationships seem to be, truly captures the human condition.
Although I was expecting that one of her children would drown, I was amazed at how Munroe reflected on the experience, and tied it into the overall themes of the story. While Steve was an orphan boy who was neglected, her children were just the opposite. This contrast shows the fragility of life, and how easily accidents can happen in life. She refers to Steve’s Dad, and her parents, as “consenting” to death of a child. I have never really looked at parenting in such a light, and this outlook, although sad, seems perfectly honest. Again, Munroe shows her ability to reflect on the human condition, parenting, love, and relationships in an interesting, and insightful manner.

I liked the story "The Turkey Season". It is hard to say exactly what I liked about the story as there is a lot of explicit and gruesome detail packed into its pages. The story takes place at the Turkey Barn, a slaughterhouse, during Christmas in the 1940s during World War II. I guess what I found most interesting and enjoyed about this poem was Munro's ability to incorporate humor into an otherwise non-humorous setting like a slaughterhouse. Munro does this effectively from the beginning of the story: "when I was fourteen I got a job at the Turkey Barn for the Christmas season. I was still too young to get a job working in a store or as a part-time waitress; I was also too nervous." (65). Surely one would think that a 14 year old is better suited to work at a store or in a restaurant as a waitress than in a slaughterhouse. The fact that she is too young to work at these seemingly more normal and suitable jobs, but not too young to work at a slaughterhouse is rather ironic and humorous. Maybe times were different back then.. Fey does a good job in describing the story's summary above and I agree with most of what she has to say about it. I too found it difficult to pinpoint exactly what I did like about the story. I think there is something inherently intriguing about a slaughterhouse of any sort. Using such a setting, Munro effectively sustained my interest throughout the story, unlike some of the other stories in this collection. I really like and admire the immense amount of thought that Munro puts into her characters, even at the level of something as small or simple as a face expression: "He made a face at her. It was a truly hateful, savagely warning, face; infantile, self-indulgent, yet calculated; it was a timed explosion of disgust and loathing. it was hard to believe. But he saw it." (63). In this regards I would have to concur with the New York times reviewer claiming that: "Munro stands out as one of the living colossi of the modern short story, and her Chekhovian realism, her keen psychological insight, her instinctive feel for the emotional arithmetic of domestic life have indelibly stamped contemporary writing." The Turkey Season is a great example of Munro's extraordinary writing ability: to derive such meaning from as small a thing as a face expression is shocking and certainly worthy of respect and admiration.

Although I missed our first discussion of Munro's collection of short stories, I'm certain we didn't talk about "Carried Away" in our second discussion.

"Carried Away" has the narrator Arthur Doud, a factory owner in a small town. The story follows Arthur closely, as well as two others- Louisa, a librarian, and Jack, a war veteran. These three becomes tied together when Jack, who's loved Louisa for many years through correspondence of letters and watching her anonymously at the library, gets killed working at Arthur's factory. Arthur and Louisa eventually get married since Arthur feels he must bear the responsibility of watching over Louisa (formerly taken by Jack). The main reason Arthur feels such a strong connection to Jack is because after Jack was decapitated at the factory, it was Arthur who picked up his sanguine head and carried it back to his body. Constantly feeling detached from her husband, who later dies, Louisa continues to strengthen her bond with Jack, although he has died. She hallucinates full conversations with the man she was supposed to marry, but never actually saw until she requested a photo of him.

I find it poignant that Munro chose this short story for the title of her greater work. The other stories in Carried Away do mostly share the similar theme of detachment and reattachment.

After a Wikipedia search and finding that the sources used were reputable enough, I concluded that Munro generally writes her male characters as "the everyman", while her female characters are more "complex." Such was the case in "Carried Away." While we don't learn nearly as much about Jack as we do about Louisa and Arthur, he remains the man in the common boy-meets-girl love story, even if it comes about via mail. Arthur is a troubled soul, yet identifiable in that he is the man who suffers the burden of taking care of people. He does so with both Jack's head (and body) and Louisa's heart. Louisa is quite an interesting character. She connects to Jack so fervently that she brings about her own hallucinations of him to bring his presence back to life.

This was a great short story in a collection of many.

The story that I picked from Munro’s novel is called The Turkey Season. I thought this story was interesting because it reads more like a tabloid article then an actual serious piece of literature. Basically 14 year old Rose gets a job as a turkey gutter and then goes into long gossipy descriptions of the people that she works with. What I first found so intriguing about this story was the amount of detail that Munro goes into when explaining turkey gutting. She has one of her characters a man by the name of Herb Abbot explain how to turkey gut, not for the benefit of Rose herself, but more for the benefit of the reader of the story. This gory description goes into every detail of the experience which I think is particularly interesting because it really brings the reader into the action of turkey gutting. You can imagine yourself in the story doing the gutting and I think this is powerful because without this connection this story would be wholly uninteresting in its content, as the remainder just seems to be random character backgrounds of the people that she works with. “Work your fingers around and get the guts loose. Easy. Easy. Keep your fingers together. Keep the palm inwards. Feel the ribs with the back of your hand. Feel the guts fit into your palm. Feel that? Keep going. Break the strings – as many as you can. Keep going. Feel a hard lump? That’s the gizzard. Feel a soft lump? That’s the heart” (67).

“Differently” chronicles the intertwining relationships of several people having affairs—with each other and with each other’s partners. While Munro makes it clear who is sleeping with whom, the focus on the story is not on the romantic relationships. It focuses on the history of intimate relationships between friends—Maya and Georgia, most specifically, as well as morally defining moments- like Georgia’s attempted rape. “Differently” centers on the lies that these characters tell to each other, and more importantly, to themselves.
The first page of the story caught my attention (probably because I’m an English major), as it described a creative-writing course that didn’t allow Georgia to write the truth. As the story went on, I found it fascinating that Georgia was so bothered by this, considering that almost nothing neither she, nor any of the characters did was very honest. The events in this story are so twisted—in one aspect, it really surprised me that Maya and Georgia stopped being friends, in another, I don’t see how the story could have ended any differently, as the entire thing is based on betrayal from all sides.
After Raymond acknowledges that Maya has been having an affair, she finally gives it up, regretfully, because she has been “found out.” “‘That was it, for me,” Maya said. “That was your true and desperate love. Nevermore.’
“What, then, was Harvey?
“‘Exercise,’ said Maya.” (216)
I thought this moment was especially revealing. It is the first time that Maya admits the wrongness of her infidelity. Before this moment, the affairs seemed to be just a game she played. Georgia admits to playing the same game (222), “She had offered wild Maya up for his entertainment, or to point out what a novice at this game she herself was—a relatively chaste prize” proving that their relationship was more of a competition than a friendship.
This assertion is Georgia’s “enlightenment.” She admits that she’s not as good at being unfaithful as Maya in the romantic sense, but sending Miles to Maya proves that Georgia is more unfaithful in the friendship sense. The most shocking part about this fact is that the cheating between friends is portrayed to be more devastating (and more wrong) than cheating between lovers (and husbands). Is it any different?
The repercussions of infidelity are the ultimate lessons learned by both Georgia and by Maya, and are what lead to the end of their friendship. Considering the way they make a game of betrayal, however, it seems that (ironically) they were ever “friends” in the first place, and especially telling considering the opening of the story. One would never expect such a dishonest character to be upset about not being allowed to tell the truth.

I chose the story "The Beggar Maid." This story is about a young woman in college, named Rose, who becomes the object of a graduate students affections. This student, Patrick, loves her immediately and unconditionally, despite her poor background and his privileged upbringing. Rose never loves Patrick, at least not to the same degree as he does, but values his love and the opportunities he brings her. The two become engaged, but Rose breaks off the engagement in a fit of anger. Later, she has a moment of revelation, where she throws herself at him asking for forgiveness. The two end up staying married for ten years, but eventually, after many caustic and erratic outbursts, they divorce.

I thought the most interesting part of this story was the way Rose felt about her relationship with Patrick in terms of their different backgrounds. She is obviously bothered and disheartened by his wealth. Because he is so wealthy, Rose says, people often believe that she went after him for his money. Yet, this is the complete opposite. She is also bothered by his treatment of her, as an object of pity, and his denial of her actual upbringing.

She tells Patrick once, "We come from different worlds." To which he responds, "I'm glad you're poor. You're so lovely. You're like the Beggar Maid"

I think this transaction between the two lovers demonstrates Patrick's attitude towards her background, which at times does appear to be the way Rose imagines. He seems to fantasize her poverty, and imagine it as somehow better than his privileged, although loveless and miserable family life.

This is demonstrated again, after this visit to Hanratty, her hometown, and her stepmother's house.

"'You were right,' said Patrick as they left Hanratty on the bus. 'It is a dump. You must be glad to get away.'

Rose felt immediately that he should not have said that.

'Of course that's not your real mother,' Patrick said, 'Your real parents can't have been like that.' Rose did not like his saying that either, though it was what she believed herself."

This section emphasizes Patrick's attitude, while demonstrated Rose's inability or unwillingness to correct him. Although she disagrees with the appropriateness or kindness of his observations, she does not say anything. This comes back again and again, her unwillingness to shatter what Patrick thinks about her, the security of their relationship, and the strength of his love.

I chose "The Albania Virgin" from Alice Monroe's collection "Carried Away". The story beings with the character Lottar, who finds herself among the Ghegs, a people who we learn about only from the their tendencies and traditions described to us throughout the story being told. We learn, however, that the story is being told by the mysterious and eccentric character, Charlotte, to another character, a bookstore owner, who appears to being trying to escape her past,or at least attempt to make sense of it. It is unclear as to whether Lottar is actually Charlotte, because it is never actually said in the novel. However, there is a strange similarity in the name Charlotte and Lottar ("lott"). In the first line of the novel, .."she must have tried to tell them her name, and 'Lottar' was what they made of it", really lead me to first believe that "Lottar" was what they made of "Charlotte". I think that may be my favorite aspect of the story. Even though we are told so much, there is still this underlying sense of mystery throughout the entire book. The mystery of Lottar/Charlotte is one that I hoped would be solved by the end, and though, on page 318 in the passage Charlotte and the narrator, we get a suggestion that maybe it is her;
"Where did you get this idea from" I said.
"From life," said Charolette indistinctly.
I also really enjoyed the mystery of the narrator's life. We are told of her past, and of her marriage, and of her affair. But, I feel that the affair was almost unexpected. She was, seemingly, happily married, and then the next thing you know, you read "the seduction was mutual, and it was the first affair for the both of us". It seemed to have come out of thin air, but it made the narrator that much more interesting. I did not understand the purpose of the narrator other than to tell the story of Lottar/Charlotte, but once her own story unravels, you realize that this story is her story too.

Oh, Alice Munro. I love her capability to give weight and clarity to experiences so common we ordinarily wouldn’t think to articulate them. There was a lot going on in “The Turkey Barn” that did just that. The basic plotline is as follows: Christmas time, 1940: girl gets a job gutting turkeys, works with eccentric crew, develops affection for Herb Abbott, the able and patient fellow turkey gutter. Herb brings a young and lewd boy, Brian, to also work at the Turkey Barn. Brian’s uncouth behavior results in his unanimous disfavor by the other turkey gutters. An ambiguous incident occurs, in which Gladys, a high-maintenance, prim and prissy fellow turkey gutter, becomes hysterical. Narrator speculates as to what happened. Nobody tells her. Last day at the turkey barn: everyone drinks whiskey and sings.
Ok, that was a sad and perfunctory recap. What I was talking about with the weight and clarity of common and ordinary experience is exemplified here: “When they talked about Gladys’s being after him they must have really wanted to talk about sex—what he wanted and what he got. They must have felt a voluptuous curiosity about him, as I did. He aroused this feeling by being circumspect and not making the jokes that some men did, and at the same time not being squeamish or gentlemanly” (69). It reminded me a lot of how I’ve felt about coworkers who don’t let on about their personal lives—you spend so much time with someone and hardly know them. I love that this curiosity is “voluptuous.” It reflects the sexual nature of their curiosity—not that they are sexually interested in Herb, but that one of the first things people want to know about someone they don’t know much about is their intimate/romantic life.

After reading the introduction, I read "Royal Beatings". I was really curious about the section where the butcher is beaten and the reaction of Becky and Robert on page 9.

"She herself had watched all the way through...she did not go out to help him..."

After Becky offers the men money, they still decide that they're not leaving without a good old fashioned unfair fight. They beat Tyde up until "his nightgown and the snow he was lying in turned red." The reaction of the viewers was shocking to me, and made me think back to the first fight that I ever watched.

As I see it, you have basically two options as the viewer of a fight. You can run away like Robert did, get involved, or do nothing. Becky did nothing. Pretty lame, Becky. But then I thought back to the first fight that I saw, when a was a wee tyke, and I did the same thing that Becky did. Two boys were fighting and there were a bunch of us watching around in a circle. I'm not a proponent of violence, but I never considered how adamant an advocate of peace I was until I realized what the violent costs of restoring it might be.