Small Mercies, by Dennis Lehane

A well told and important story about the reaction to a federal court order in 1974 requiring the busing of children to integrate the Boston public schools, and of the racism, poverty, addiction, crime, fear, hatred, ignorance and exploitation of the South Boston community. Provocative, repulsive, infuriating. Vivid as well. Lehane’s depiction of his protagonist, Mary Pat Fennessy:

“one look at her baby pictures and childhood snap shots, all scrunched face and wide shoulders and small powerful body, ready to audition for the roller derby or some shit – looks like she came off a conveyor belt for tough Irish broads.”

An ugly, dark story. A little more than halfway through, I gasped and had to shut the book. An hour later, I was able to catch my breath and get up the courage to return. Lehane himself has said, “the book, in the middle, gets pitch black“. No kidding. 

And then, by way of contrast, there’s murder Detective Bobby Coyne, who has seen the darkest part of humanity but is a loving father and an oasis of hope and tenderness. Lehane writes that Bobby, sitting with his son after his son’s skateboarding accident, “must confront what he has grasped intellectually since the moment he first held his son in the maternity ward . . .  

I can’t protect you. 

I can do what I can, teach you as much as I know. But if I’m not there when the world comes to take its bite – and even if I am – there’s no guarantee I can stop it. 

I can love you, I can support you, but I can’t keep you safe. 

And that scares the ever-living shit out of me. Every day, every minute, every breath.”

(My sentiments as well.)

A timely story, unfortunately, and a heartbreakingly difficult but great read. (A Golden Notebook book club pick.)