If the mark of genius is making the difficult appear easy, the great American writer William Maxwell (1908-2000) had it in generous supply. First published in 1937, this early work draws on the intense domestic world he never forgot and observed so closely. The concept of family, particularly its tensions, has always fascinated writers. But few have captured the balance between dread, intimacy and real love as exactly as Maxwell has in many stories and novels, such as his superb domestic satire Time Will Darken It (1948) and the magnificent So Long, See You Tomorrow (1980). They Came Like Swallows takes its title from Yeats and just as "a woman's powerful character/Could keep a swallow to its first intent" so this subtle, honest narrative about a family tragedy set in small-town mid-west in 1918 has, at its heart, a strong female who guides her husband and small sons more by a kindly glance than a harsh word.
Young Peter Morison, known as "Bunny", is the younger of two boys. Their mother Elizabeth is an easygoing character, well in control of her domestic empire but too relaxed to seek domination. Far more stern and detached is their father, a man who likes to hold forth - and expects to be listened to. Bunny's elder brother Robert is 13 "and very trying. More so, it seemed to Bunny, than most people. He wouldn't go to bed and he wouldn't get up. He hated to bathe or be kissed or practice his music lesson . . . He spread his soldiers all over the carpet in the living-room and when it came time to pick them up he was never there . . . "
Bunny's world is complicated by his brother's menacing presence. Absolute security is to be found only with his mother. Maxwell enters the mind of a small boy overwhelmed by life and wary of adventure. The brothers are different. Robert's sense of adventure has already cost him his leg. Bunny however is a worrier, reluctant to venture outside to play. When his mother confirms it has been raining since early in the morning, the boy "looked out the window hopefully" and adds, "hard?" Aware of his dependence on her, the boy's mother ponders his need to be continually reassured. Bunny is presented to us as others see him - but also as he sees himself. His child's view is shaped by persistent, indeed prophetic, feelings of dread. "If his mother were not there to protect him from whatever was unpleasant - from the weather and from Robert and from his father - what would he do?" For him the world is a place "where there was neither warmth nor comfort nor love." Despite this, Bunny is not a drab creature, and he and Robert's conflicting personalities are brilliantly drawn; as is the characterisation of James, the detached father and husband, who suddenly loses his complacency.
In addition to his chatty Aunt Irene, Bunny will soon have another rival for his beloved mother's attention. Aside from this, and his father's belief that the young should not be heard, is the reality of a world war going on. Even more pressing is the savage influenza epidemic threatening every house. Each of the family members and relatives develops as an individual through Maxwell's skilful treatment. It is a beautiful novel and further reason, if needed, as to why we should read everything this gentle craftsman ever wrote.
Eileen Battersby is the Literary Correspondent of The Irish Times
