It’s perhaps apt that I’m reviewing Public Library, Ali Smith’s newest collection of short stories, as it was in a public library that I first discovered her work.
I was 15, and a fortnightly trip to the city centre’s public library had been part of my family’s routine for half my life. It was something we could do together in the evening – something that was free. Our haul of books clutched tight to our chests would keep my brother and I occupied until the next trip.
I remember finding this slim volume of short stories with a smiling woman on the cover. Free Love. I don’t know what attracted me to the book. I think I was looking for some kind of answer about love, free love. What I found was a remarkable set of stories about sexual awakening and the beautiful, impassive faces of golden age movie stars on big screens.
