May we borrow your husband? Book

How titles deceive us. One would think, judging from the name of this wonderful, whimsical, wickedly witty and unexpectedly warm collection of stories, that they are primarily "sexual comedies" packed with innuendo and slapstick, the kind that were served in the more burlesque of the films of the 1960s. And then, as one begins from the first page and then arrives at the end of 183 pages, mesmerised, tickled, moved and also outraged in a good way, the reader realises just how mistaken that thought is. For after all, the name of the writer of these tales, alternately melancholic, romantic, absurdly comic and even gently, stirringly erotic, is Greene, Graham Greene.

And so, while "May We Borrow Your Husband" represents a significant literary detour for the dexterous, probing, incisive storyteller whose interest has always been, to quote Browning for the umpteenth time, "the dangerous edge of things", one also realises that these are stories that carry his unmistakable signature - that same wistful feeling of wanderlust, that same yearning for illicit romance or camaraderie, that peerless penchant for etching memorable women - commanding, honest, naive, spirited, sexually independent and all too real without the slightest stereotypical touch - that rugged compassion for the loners and social outcasts trying to fit in and that same devilish sense of humour that makes these stories so unpredictable with each new turn.

There are longer pieces that are brilliantly sustained by his measured pace and skill in developing complex motives and orchestrating their equally befuddling actions with conviction and clarity; there are tiny tales that are only a few pages long but ones that make us feel both tickled and also compel us to think about them for long and then there are those other pieces that blend tragedy and farce so seamlessly into each other that they are both brilliant, pitch-perfect comic creations and sad, even melancholic character portraits at the same time. The range of stories, their subjects and the breadth of Greene's humour and wit, are assuredly dazzling to behold.

It is near impossible to pick out any specific favourites from this volume. But it would suffice to say that everyone of them is special in its own way and every single story offers not only food for thought but also a rollicking gulp of wit intoxicated with drollery. The bigger pieces like the title story and the excellently staged tryst in Jamaica have the brevity and concise clarity of his novels, the smaller pieces, on the other hand, lace their sparkling wit with an equally winsome layer of warmth and somewhere in the mix, there is a romance, a bittersweet one, to steal your heart away.

Take a bow, Mr. Greene. For reminding us, like the best of them, that short stories can be such wholesome literary delights too.