Matthew Groff

(The short story “My Wonderful Description of Flowers” by Danielle Dutton appeared in the December 5^th, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

(I can’t help it; I spoil this story…)

Photograph by Ioulex for The New Yorker

I have been getting into short short stories, and flash fiction. What I am enjoying about these smaller works is that is that I feel like most of the writers are playing with the short story form, and experimenting with what can work when it comes to narrative. Maybe this is a reflection of the digital age, and texting – use as few words as possible and get to the point.

“My Wonderful Description of Flowers” by Danielle Dutton is not a flash fiction piece, but for The New Yorker, it is a shorter short story at just three pages. There is no plot to this story, and I think that was purposeful. The story functions like a dream, and in the first paragraph, the narrator tells us that her husband had a dream, though he very rarely dreams. And with that framing, the story is on its way. There are a few narrative threads, or lines that weave in and out of the story; the husband not returning a text message, their child playing a video game that doesn’t seem to be like any type of normal game, a lecture and reception, a stranger who had corresponded with the narrator, and then a train ride that leads to the end of the line.

The prose is lovely, light, and ethereal in the sense that it flows back and forth from narrative threads, which could only work together in a dream. What keeps the narrative moving forward is the growing frustration with the messages not being returned, and the train literally running toward the end of the line. These two threads do function as the device that creates the rising action, so the story has the feeling of a plot, or at least that a climax is coming. Dutton has created this frame for the story to live in, and then she goes on to fill spaces with movements, gestures, actions and observations. It’s a wonderful experiment in testing what a narrative can be, and be used to hold a story together. And like a good guest, the story knows not to overstay its welcome, and gives an ending that isn’t climatic, but is satisfying as it fits within the atmosphere of this dream-like world.

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