(The short story “Big Phipps Climbs the High Dive” by Brendan Gillen appeared in Volume 5 of Taco Bell Quarterly.)
(Things will be spoiled!)
I like flash fiction. It’s a literary form that I think correctly reflects the time we live in; cut the bullshit and get to the point. And it also feels like it’s a big middle finger to those writing professors that used the cliched response to their students that “less is more” but then would turn around and complain that their short story didn’t take enough time to develop theme, character, setting…
Where stream of consciousness tried to capture the feeling of how thoughts and emotions roll around in one’s mind, flash fiction is an example of a thought, emotion, or memory that explodes to life in your mind, then fades away. “Big Phipps Climbs the High Dive” by Brendan Gillen is a sharp piece of flash fiction that seems to fit that definition.
The piece is a memory from high school, and not a particularly fond one, but I wager that most people who write fiction don’t have good memories from high school. It’s about Phipps, a larger kid who is about to win a belly flop contest. The narrator unfortunately gave Phipps an awful nickname “Beans” which he regrets, and even tries to get other students to stop using, but the cats out of the bag. There is a sense that the narrator regrets many things when it comes to Phipps, but the narrator never gives us what Phipps full, real name is. It’s as if Phipps never became real to the narrator, even though we are given insights to who Phipps is. He is a boy forced to play football because of his size. He likes playing Warcraft, which the narrator has done with him at Phipps’ home, but the narrator won’t let himself becomes friends with him. An example of peer pressure on the narrator is given, and the feeling of shame just oozes off of the story. And after Phipps has won the contest, the narrator tries to talk to Phipps, but the narrator admits what he wants is for the charade of their “friendship” to continue. Phipps response is a perfect button for this piece, as Phipps is aware of the type of person the narrator really is, and is done with playing along.
(And we are at the part of the blog post where I ask if you liked it. Then I ask you to please like, share, comment, or follow this blog. You know…)
Matthew Groff 