I just finished the last story in William Trevor's Cheating at Canasta. This is a marvelous collection of short stories. Each moving, yet not all crash bang emotion, more restrained and resonant than that. There's a moral of some kind to most of those stories, but it's delivered in a gently passive way.
Trevor doesn't want us to love or hate characters, he wants us to smile gently at their foibles, recognizing our own, and the story-tellers, unique stance outside of the drama. I loved William Boyd's review of from the New York Times, which contrasts Trevor's style to Chekhov's.