Author: Matthew Groff

  • Short Story Review: “The Face in the Mirror” by Mohsin Hamid

    (The short story “The Face in the Mirror” by Mohsin Hamid appeared in the May 16th, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (This story will be Spoiled!)

    I didn’t know I had been waiting for a story, but “The Face in the Mirror” by Mohsin Hamid was the story I had been waiting for. I thought I knew what I was getting, then I was surprised, then I felt ashamed that I had judged it, only to again think I knew where this story was going, only to arrive at an ending that was conclusive, but also left me pleasantly wondering what all of this meant. I love that feeling. It reminds me of being in a college English class, and we have just finished reading a story that we are all jazzed up about, and we can’t wait to discuss it, to see if someone else saw it the same way that I did.

    The story is about a white man, Anders, who wakes up one day to find that his skin color has changed to brown. Right off the bat, I thought I was about to get a modern retelling of Kafka’s “Metamorphosis.” Anders soon learns that this change is affecting other people in his city. Slowly, tensions start growing in this city. Anders goes to see his father, who has not changed and is still white. We learn that the father and Anders have a strained relationship, neither really coming to understand the other. Where the father was a construction foreman, a physically tough man, Anders never lived up to that standard. Though the father doesn’t understand or recognize his son, the father still loves and attempts to protect his child, by giving Anders a rifle to protect himself. Soon, society begins to break apart; militias form, people who have changed are now evicted, violence is everywhere. Anders has a confrontation at his apartment, an attempt to evict him, and though he stands his ground, he knows he has to leave. The only safe place is his father’s home, where he goes, and the two of them hole up together. Soon, it is clear that the father is dying, and Anders sees to it that he takes care of his father to the end. And at the funeral, the father is the only white person left, as all of the people attending are now brown skinned.

    First of all, much respect to Hamid for writing a story that was not easy to predict where it was going. Always a good sign. Second, there is so much to unpack. Was this a story about race? Clearly it was. Was this a story about how the paternal generation comes to not recognize and understand their children’s generation? Yes, that is also true. I think it was also about loving unconditionally. It was all of that, and it was great. I also like that after Anders goes through this change, society comes out on the other side, and everything starts to return back to normal. There was a menace in this story, a tension that I felt was going to explode, but the fact that it didn’t played well into the theme of the story. There were all of these things happening, which was bringing up questions in my mind, asking if this is how society would react to a change like that, or is our current society reacting this way because a great change is under way?

    I don’t know, but it is fun and challenging to ask and ponder these questions.

    But all of it was pulled together and held tightly by Hamid’s writing. His word choice, the flow of the sentences, and the use of repetition of a phrase in a sentence; it was enjoyable just to read this prose. I am now a fan of Mohsin Hamid. I feel like he was a friend, gently nudging me to ask questions, and look a little closer at the world around me.

    (Say, don’t forget to like this post, or share it, or leave a comment. I got bills to pay, you know.)

  • Me at the Gym

    I have just started my fourth month of working out, and I can’t say that I have come to love it. But I can say that I do look forward to my thirty minutes, four times a week, of listening to my music, and having time for myself. And I will admit that I did have one session at the gym where I left feeling pretty good about myself. With three months under my belt now, I feel that going to the gym has now become a healthy habit in my life, which is a very good thing.

    The other habit I have formed is that I “sing” while on the treadmill. I used the quote thing, as I don’t actually sing out loud – at least I don’t think so. I, more or less, mouth they lyric of whatever song that I am listening to. And I have a playlist right now that contains several songs that I like to sing along with. The music and singing does help me focus and kind’a push through the minor aches and pains that flair up when I start running, so I don’t plan on stopping this habit.

    I have lost 6 pounds, but I don’t feel better about myself. Maybe I need to change up my diet, I don’t know. Sadly, all of the other benefits of working out have yet to appear for me. Still not sleeping better, and I don’t feel like I have a better attitude toward life. I don’t feel more focused, or any of that Ginsana crap. (Just ask Scottie Pippen)

    Maybe this has to do with me. Maybe I’m too pessimistic. Maybe I’m the outlier. I’m not going to stop going to the gym, as I know some exercise is better than none. But what I feel like is that guy at the party who smokes the joint which is being passed around, but I didn’t get high.

    (Say, don’t forget to like this post, or share it, or leave a comment. I got bills to pay, you know.)

  • Read the Guidelines!

    I don’t think it’s a secret that I am trying to get one of my stories published in a lit magazine. I don’t know if this is the right way to start a career writing fiction, or if there is a better way to go about it, or if there is no right way and you just got to figure it out. (I think it’s the last option.) Either way, I write and then I send the stories out to magazines, then wait to see what sticks to the wall.

    Almost every magazine says two things; please read an issue of their magazine before you submit, and please follow the submission guidelines. I have started reading some of these magazines, and I have enjoyed discovering new writers and new ideas on how to tell a story. As for following the guidelines… yeah, I still suck at that.

    In fact, I was rejected yesterday for that exact reason, even though the form letter that was sent to me never mentioned that I had failed to follow their guidelines. I thought that it was very polite of them not to mention my complete inability to follow the most basic rule they set forth. I know I was rejected for not following the guidelines because the magazine stated that it could take three months for them to respond, and they rejected me in three days. I went back to read the submission post, and that’s when I reread the rules, and realized that I didn’t follow them. Oops…

    And I know what happened. I found this magazine, and got impatient, and wanted to send out right away as it was on my mind right now!

    I feel a little silly. I should have known better. I should have slowed down, taken my time.

    Remember people, read the guidelines.

    (Say, don’t forget to like this post, or share it, or leave a comment. I got bills to pay, you know.)

  • ODDS and ENDS: Dr. Solomon Hughes, Tottenham End of Season, Stan Getz, and The Car

    (Get in loser, we’re going listen to me talk about stuff)

    I have been watching Winning Time: The Rise of the Lakers Dynasty on HBO. It’s good, a little uneven in parts, but it is catnip for Gen X males like me who lived through this stuff, and are now finding out what “really happened.” It’s embellished, and I knew that going in to it, but it is fun. Yet, the greatest accomplishment of this series is Dr. Solomon Hughes who plays Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. Hughes is just “killing it” (as a friend of mine said) as the legendary NBA superstar. His portrayal of Abdul-Jabbar is nuanced, intelligent, subtle, and brimming with an intensity that is compelling to watch. Dr. Hughes is doing the most difficult acting trick there is; playing someone intelligent and also indicating the unspoken thought process that his character goes through. And this is Dr. Solomon Hughes first professional acting job. You read that right, it’s his first acting gig! As of last night, Dr. Hughes didn’t have a Wikipedia page, which made it very difficult to find out who he is. As of today, that has been rectified. If nothing else, just watch Winning Time to see this performance.

    The Premiere League is coming to an end this month, so I don’t know what I will be talking about when it comes to sports this Summer. (Cubs, yes, but that’s always a slog.) (The World Cup isn’t until November, remember?) So, basically, Tottenham has to win all of their games from now to the end of the season, and stupid-old-late-to-the-party Arsenal needs to lose at least none match. If Tottenham finishes fifth on the table, Kane is out of here. The future of the team is riding on these last matches. That’s it, I’m done. Totally not being overly dramatic.

    I have a new apparition for Stan Getz. I have been listening to him a lot, and I don’t know why I skipped him for all of these years. In the same sense, I don’t know why I ignored Roxy Music either.

    We got our car back from the shop today. Back in the middle of April, someone backed into it in the middle of the night while parked on the street. I missed the car, and I can’t believe that I am saying that. I missed sitting and doing the alt parking stuff. I am changing, to a different person that I didn’t know that I would like.

  • Money

    I was trying this morning to write a blog, and I just couldn’t get anything to stick. The reason for that is that I had to sort out what was going on with our bank, car insurance and the shop working on our car. And the faster that I tried to get it all sorted out, the longer it took. Finally, at 11am, I gave up on the idea of getting a blog done out my self-appointed deadline, and just gave in to doing on the family budget for the month.

    Now that I’m at the local library to write, I’m trying again to blog. I sat here at the main table for a minute or two trying to focus on some literary or political point that I wanted to make, or maybe crafting a 300 word joke. But, what is on my mind is money. Well, rather the lack of it, and the attempt to get on top of it.

    Yes, yes, we all know the cultural norm of not talking about money, as it is embarrassing for someone, or at least, we are told someone will get embarrassed if the conversation happens. I don’t think I have ever hidden the fact that my family has a large amount of credit card debt, student loans, and we have a car. It’s a chunk of money, but not insurmountable to take care of. We are fine; no one in our house goes hungry or lacking what they need. Out level of indebtedness is best described as having to plan in advance and save. If we want to do something big, we just have to plan for it, and save.

    But it does ware me down. The last time that I had no debt around my neck was when I was twenty-two. (Oh, what carefree days those were. I used to pay cash for things.) At forty-five, I would like to own a home, pay for the kid’s college, and maybe retire. The normal American Dream shit. BUT, I’m forty-five and I have none of those things. Sure, we are getting closer each day, but we still haven’t arrived.

    And this is what keeps me up at night, if I let myself think about it; I don’t want my daughter to have it worse than I did as a kid. There are days, like today, where that thought is hard to shake, and I feel like I’m not getting it done.

    At fort-five, I do know somethings about myself. Like, I’ll go to bed worrying about this stuff, and then in the morning, I’ll get up and try again to make it better.