(The short story “Easter” by Caleb Crain appeared in the September 26th, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)
(Photograph by Ana Cuba for The New Yorker)
(I SPOIL EVERYTHING!)
The short story “Easter” by Calen Crain is set in Ft. Worth, TX, so my interest in this story was peaked rather early. Set in the recent past, or at least before cd Walkmen players, this story has no reason to be set in the recent past, or in Ft. Worth, TX. It could take place anywhere, and take place as far back as 1967, if you replace the Walkman with a turntable.
It’s not a badly written story, as it does contain one really great line in it, which I will point out in a minute, yet this work taps on just enough modern short story clichés that it did make me roll my eyes.
The protagonist, Jacob, smokes pot, which appears to be the literary go-to action to show that a character is lost. Besides smoking pot, Jacob has a shake in his hand. Jacob is travelling from Houston, where he was visiting a Harvard classmate, to Ft. Worth to spend time with his mother, grandmother, and his retired doctor and elderly grandfather. Once all are together, granddad notices Jacob’s shake and offers to prescribe a drug to help him. After going to a specific pharmacy, and dinner, the family returns to the grandparents’ home, and settles in. Jacob is called to his grandfather’s bed, where the grandfather is unable to speak to him. In the morning, the grandfather has died in his sleep, and Jacob’s mother wants to know why there is a bottle of pills in the grandfather’s room with Jacob’s name on it. Then we jump to a new section where Jacob and his Harvard friend are driving out of Houston to go shoot guns in the country, because doing something new that might kill you is fun.
Sadly, Jacob is the least interesting person in the story, and it isn’t a “charming” not interesting. Much time is spent on him being high, even showing that he is bad and hiding that fact when he is around people. (I guess pot has become the replacement cliché that drinking used to be in the 50’s.) He is detached from the world around him and just seems to float from person to person, but we are never given a reason why he is this way. (The hand? Maybe.) The grandfather seems very interested in giving Jacob an opportunity to become something more than himself, which is shown in the comment and the prescription for the drug to help with the shake. But, you can’t build sympathy for an apathetic character who has access to great opportunities in life; Jacob goes to Harvard, and it also appears that this is not a family struggling for cash, so Jacob is just lazy and spoiled. (Cliché) And the grandfather is old, and this is a short story, so we all know that he’s going to die. (Cliché.) AND then, this story does that, “last section has nothing to do with the climax, but recalls a recent event in the past that ties the whole story together” thing. (Cliché.) [For the record: This end of story literary trick with the new section that comes out of nowhere and tries to tie the story together, it should have a name to identify it. I propose “Chick in the Wastebasket.” It’s the last line in “Just Before the War with the Eskimos” which I think is the first story I know of that used this trick.]
It’s too bad because Crain’s writing is good, and the story contained a few phrases and observations that stood out. My favorite was in reference to the grandfather: “…old people are sometimes a little ruthless about their pleasures – about taking from the world they have survived into tokens that remind them of what they loved about the one they grew up in.” That’s good. That’s really good, and I noted it the second I read it. But one line, even a really great one, can’t save the boat here.
(I have returned to the short story reviews, and I need your help. If you enjoy these takes that I have, please give a like, leave a comment, or share this post. Eustace Tilley would approve.)
Matthew Groff 