Alice Munro is a masterful and wise writer, and when I'm reading her work I feel enveloped in a beauty I cannot access anywhere else. The way she skips around and tangles time in this collection is truly extraordinary. I think she's far more experimental than people give her credit for, perhaps because her work is realist and she writes about ordinary lives, often the lives of women. In other circumstances, that might not sound so experimental, but her brand of storytelling is like a photograph of the mind in the early morning, so distilled and meandering and true, and yet off balance and unpredictabe. In this collection, some stories wowed me more than others. My favorites were Wenlock Edge, Fiction, and the last story, Too Much Happiness, which was weirdly equal parts boring and amazing. I want to re-read to unlock its mysteries.