Taking Pictures, Hardback
1.5 out of 5 (1 rating)


The stories in "Taking Pictures" are snapshots of the body in trouble: in denial, in extremis, in love.

Mapping the messy connections between people - and their failures to connect - the characters are captured in the grainy texture of real life: freshly palpable, sensuous and deeply flawed.

From Dublin to Venice, from an American college dorm to a holiday caravan in France, these are stories about women stirred, bothered, or fascinated by men they cannot understand, or understand too well.

Enright's women are haunted by children, and by the ghosts of the lives they might have led - lit by new flames, old flames, and flames that are guttering out.A woman's one night stand is illuminated by dreams of a young boy on a cliff road, another's is thwarted by a swarm of somnolent bees.

A pregnant woman is stuck in a slow lift with a tactile American stranger, a naked mother changes a nappy in a hotel bedroom, and waits for her husband to come back from the bar. These are sharp, vivid stories of loss and yearning, of surrender to responsibilities or to unexpected delight; all share the unsettling, dislocated reality, the subversive wit and awkward tenderness that have marked Anne Enright as one of our most thrillingly gifted writers.


  • Format: Hardback
  • Pages: 240 pages
  • Publisher: Vintage Publishing
  • Publication Date:
  • Category: Short stories
  • ISBN: 9780224084697



Free Home Delivery

on all orders

Pick up orders

from local bookshops


Showing 1 - 1 of 1 reviews.

Review by

I'm beginning to think that I'm just not a fan of Anne Enright and that I should probably give up on her at this point. I thought the writing was fine in her most successful book, <i>The Gathering],</i> but I wasn't exactly enamoured with the overall story. This one, a collection of short stories, was a mixed bag, but I really only enjoyed two of them. A lot of unlikeable characters (many of them drunk) in unrealistic situations.A generous 1.5 stars out of 5, simply because it wasn't as bad as <i>The Wig My Father Wore</i>.

Also by Anne Enright   |  View all