Discovering Majella’s World in Big Girl, Small Town
I couldn’t resist the allure of Big Girl, Small Town by Michelle Gallen, especially with its promise of phonetic vernacular rooted in Northern Irish culture. After a trip to Northern Ireland long ago, where I picked up a quirky little book on local slang, I found myself intrigued but bewildered—words without context can be just sounds. This novel seemed like the perfect opportunity to dive deeper into that rich linguistic tapestry, and boy, did it deliver!
At the heart of the story is 27-year-old Majella, a character whose life revolves around her unwavering daily routine in a fictional border town. From the very first page, we’re given a glimpse of her quirky yet structured mind. Her "Top Ten" list of things she dislikes has remained unchanged for seven years, while her shorter list of interests includes, amusingly, the American TV series Dallas—but only up to the 1985-86 season. This idiosyncratic approach to life not only sets the stage for her character development but also serves as a clever narrative device.
Gallen crafts a week in Majella’s life, with each chapter anchored by a time of day and an item from her list. I found this structure both refreshing and revealing, as Majella’s interactions at the local fish and chip shop unfold. With her colleague Marty and a cast of eccentric locals, their conversations drift between routine chit-chat, explosive "shite singing," and the familiar noise of the shutters at closing time. Despite seemingly mundane scenes, Gallen manages to infuse humor and warmth, pulling me into the familiarity of those small-town interactions.
One particularly memorable moment reminded me of my own experience at a chip shop in Newcastle, where my son, confused by the dialect, responded with an unexpected, "Yes please, Mustard." Majella’s world is filled with similar linguistic misunderstandings, and the stark contrast in vernacular brought back fond memories of cultural miscommunications, leaving me chuckling at the delightful absurdity of it all.
Beyond the humor lies a deeper narrative exploring themes of resilience and identity amid societal challenges. Gallen, who grew up in a region fraught with violent history and high unemployment, deftly weaves Majella’s story to reflect the complexities of a community navigating the remnants of conflict. Majella may feel trapped in her mediocre circumstances, yet she’s determined not to become like many others who have given up on their dreams, revealing a fierce inner strength that resonates deeply.
Gallen notes that while Majella might benefit from reading more literature, she embodies a unique intelligence and self-awareness, making her relatable and complex. There’s a moment in the narrative where Gallen cleverly reflects on Majella’s connection to characters in other works, suggesting that readers will find kinship in authors like Sayaka Murata and Lisa McInerney, which only serves to expand our understanding of Majella’s character.
Big Girl, Small Town resonated with me on many levels—not just for its rich cultural tapestry and relatable humor, but for its poignant exploration of life in a small town filled with both challenges and unexpected joys. This is a book that will speak particularly to readers who appreciate character-driven narratives populated with humor and warmth, as well as anyone with an interest in the complexities of Northern Irish life.
In conclusion, Gallen’s debut is a delightful exploration of the imperceptible strength of the ordinary, and it left me both entertained and reflective. For anyone craving a unique voice and an authentic window into a community shaped by history, this novel is undoubtedly worth picking up. It may very well inspire you to embrace the quirks of your own life a little more wholeheartedly.