Away from her

Elder daughter is criss-crossing Norway with a friend who has live there for the past few years, a dream-trip twice postponed by circumstances financial and pandemic. Yesterday, she found herself in Oslo's Deichman bibliotek, the largest library in Norway, and confronted with a Canadian (and Victorian) connection.

Nine years ago, I wrote about my brief encounter with Alice Munro. She died about a dozen days ago, and readers across the country mourned, even though she had been sidelined by dementia.  Her short stories remain, though: wry, pointed, and bleakly funny.

I bet Norwegians really got her, I texted elder daughter this morning.