The 13 absorbing autobiographical essays in My Little Donkey, Martha Cooley's fifth book, employ braided structures to reflect on aging, family relationships, her recent move to Italy, and life's fateful moments.
Befriending a donkey on a Venetian lagoon island, Cooley (Guesswork) examines mulish stereotypes. Has she shed her burdens and proved her stubbornness in retiring from New York City to Tuscany in her 60s? She prefers to think of it as adopting John Keats's "negative capability. This entails a balancing of perceived opportunities and losses." Age poses challenges: Italian cobblestone accidents in "Falls," ceding the joy of music to tinnitus in "No Such Thing," and clearing her parents' apartment in "The Box." And in the heartbreaking "Something to Pay," Cooley bids farewell to her old, ill cat before moving overseas.
Most essays interweave multiple strands. For instance, "Bonnie and Clyde" starts with childhood pets and segues into the Aeneid, fatherhood, and duty. Often, a personal story reminds Cooley of someone else's. Musing on sibling bonds in "Out of Hand," she recalls a friend's brother's financial misconduct and delves into the history of Ponzi schemes. A few pieces overstretch with their long asides, but it's generally delightful to follow the narrative thread. In "The Spitter," Cooley wonders why an unhoused man spat on her at a subway station--and also tracks the Holocaust experiences of Franz Kafka's sister. "Flukes," detailing a 1963 Italian landslide, is a fascinating meditation on contingency. By turning struggles and tragedies into stories, these intricate essays make sense of randomness. --Rebecca Foster, freelance reviewer, proofreader, and blogger at Bookish Beck