Circle of Friends, The Copper Beech, Scarlet Feather, Firefly Summer–I’ve read them all along with the dozen or so other novels Maeve Binchy wrote. I LOVED them. And now she’s gone. Died at age 72 in a Dublin, Ireland hospital.
No more tales of crises set in small Irish towns. No more gorgeous descriptions. No more laugh-out-loud passages that are just so TRUE of how people are. I like to think Maeve is having a cup of tea with Jane Austen about now, talking about what they’re each going to write next.
“The happiest moments of my life are connected with family and friends. There is a great comfort about being with people who knew you way back when. There is a mental shorthand, an easy-going feeling that life doesn’t have to be explained or defined; we are all in more or less the same boat. To have a community around you in a changing and unstable world is invaluable and nothing can beat the feeling that there will always be people out for our good.” –Maeve Binchy