Matthew Groff

(The short story “Tiny, Meaningless Things” by Marisa Silver appeared in the October 24^th, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

I think Paul Thomas Anderson said that when he starts to write about a character, he tries to imagine that character doing simple mundane tasks, as those actions truly reveal how that character honestly perceives the world they live in. (I think I got that right, but I won’t go and look it up because it was a Charlie Rose interview way back in the late 90’s.) As you can guess, Marisa Silver’s short story “Tiny, Meaningless Things” is not about tiny, meaningless things.

Let me just cut to the chase here; I loved it, and you should go and read it. And let me tell you why…

First of all, this is the type of story that I wish I could write. Silver finds drama in the simple acts of life – the melancholy beauty of everyday events, that when one steps back from them, we can see the profoundness. Or at least we hope they are profound when we look back on them.

The story is about Evelyn, who is a widower and a divorcee, and lives alone in an apartment building. She has a nearly daily visitor of a seven-year-old boy named Scotty, who arrives and helps with Evelyn’s chores, though they rarely converse with each other. Scotty’s reward for helping is a piece of cinnamon toast, which he prepares for himself. Evelyn has grown daughters and grand children, who are present in the story, but stay on the periphery, except for her youngest daughter, Paula. Their relationship is strained, but they clearly still care and love each other.

All of these pieces come into play, as we all know they would, and the end result is an interesting picture of who Evelyn is, and what she chooses to be involved in, and who she chooses to be honest with. It’s a great insight, as I asked myself why I am willing to confront some people in my life, and why for others I avoid any confrontation at all? Does the level of confrontation equal who I care more about?

I was left very impressed with the degree of skill and honesty that Marisa Silver was able to pack in this story. (In the end, I felt rather ashamed that I didn’t know more about her, or her work.) And the completeness of the story, in a structural/theory sense, landed so succinctly with a question about the actions that happen to a person, and would those memories linger and still influence them later in life, even when that person isn’t sure where that memory came from?

Just top-notch story telling.

(So, friend; if you have made it here, might I impress on you a slight request? For my success, I am in need of certain acts of approval from you. Such as give a like, a comment, a share, or even following this blog. Your actions would do a great deal to move the needle of acceptance in my favor. I thank you for your time.)