Author: Matthew Groff

  • Short Story Review: “The Ghost Birds” by Karen Russell

    (The short story “The Ghost Birds” by Karen Russell, was featured in the October 11th, 2021 issue of The New Yorker.)

    SPOILER ALERT! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! AND I RUN LONG ON THIS ONE!

    The New Yorker published science fiction! I was really excited about that fact when I started reading “The Ghost Birds” by Karen Russell. For all I know, TNY has been publishing sci-fi for a while, but this is the first time I saw that type of story published here. Science Fiction can be a tricky beast; it can be great for adventure and melodrama, and when done very well, can highlight the best of humanity.

    In “The Ghost Birds” we get a future world of global ecological collapse; Wildfires out of control, limited resources, toxic environment, and mass extinctions, especially of all the birds. The story is told by Jasper, who is in search of ghost birds in Oregon, where the story takes place. A violent group called the Surveillers controls these lands and the airspace, for which they kill trespassers. Jasper takes his teenage daughter, Starling, into the dangerous Oregon area to search for these birds

    Creating a complete universe in a short story is a difficult task. The author has to explain how this place works and the logic to this world, while also keeping the flow of the story natural, and not coming across as spoon-feeding, or plot clunky. Russell does this very well in the first two thirds of the story. This world is a desolate and unfriendly place, but also captivating in how people are finding ways to survive in it.

    When the climax of the story starts, the logic and cohesion of the story starts to falter. At this point I refer to what a professor in college taught, which is the Chekhov Maxim; If you introduce a gun in your story, you have to fire the gun. The Surveillers are that gun in this story. They are given enough examples of how dangerous they are, yet they never show up. The climax of the story is that Jasper and Starling get trapped in a furnace smoke stack, which Jasper tries to climb out of, but falls and breaks his leg. That leaves Starling to climb out, and get help from their friend’s airship, which lead me to ask why where the Surveillers introduced? The smoke stack scene is climatic enough, and the threat of the Surveillers plays no part in it. Also, Jasper couldn’t use communication devices because the Surveillers could hear, but somehow, they could get in and out using an airship, even though it is mentioned that the Surveillers patrol the sky. See, the logic started to fall apart. Then, I also had issue with Jasper not having a heroic act. He becomes injured, and witnesses the ghost birds, which makes him passive to the situation.

    I ended up feeling very conflicted about this story. I was really rooting for it, as I liked that this story was about ecological disaster, and that is an issue that I care greatly about. But this sore thumb stuck out at the end that I couldn’t shake or ignore.

    Good effort, just didn’t stick the landing.

  • Yup, Triggered Myself

    I got to thinking about money, and then working on the family budget, and
    that triggered me.

    I would like to think that I am good with money, but I see that the majority
    of my life I have been in debt, so I think I need to own up that I am not good
    with money. And it makes me really frustrated as I am not a dumb guy, but money
    is not my strong suit.

    With the Holidays coming, we needed to make sure that we can cover all of
    our expenses, and at the same time keep paying down our debt.

    And then it all started feeling so futile. No matter how hard we try, we
    never seem to get ahead of our debt. Even if I was in a position to go out and
    get a fulltime job, I have this dark cloud of a negative thought that keeps
    yelling at me that it wouldn’t matter. Something keeps popping up that pulls us
    back down. Sinking down, getting further and further away from our goals.

    I need to take a breath.

    Remind myself what our goals are.

    Nothing is easy, especially something worth doing.

    I guess what triggers me about this is that I feel like I should know
    better. That I should be learning from my mistakes.

    I might also need to be more aware of what my triggers are, and how to deal
    with them.

    I think I need to go take a walk.

  • Wildfires and Personal Freedom

    Every Sunday morning, we watch Sunday Morning on CBS. (This isn’t a plug, so just follow me on this.) But this past Sunday, the show wasn’t on, as there was a London NFL game, in Tottenham Stadium of all places. We switched over to Paramount+ (This still isn’t a plug,) to see if we could watch Sunday Morning. It wasn’t on, but what was playing was a long documentary on the California wildfires of the past couple of years. I would share a clip, but I can’t seem to find it on the CBS News website.

    I’m sharing this for a couple of reasons. First, I learned the role modern logging is playing in creating forests that are prone to explosive wildfires, due to their planting of new trees, which are too close to each other making dangerous combustible zones. Second, and I was sort of aware of this but never had it explained in this detail, are the techniques that Native Americans used, such as seasonal burns, cutting low branches, and preparing dwellings in defense of wildfires. Third, the doc showed how people who prepared their homes for wildfires were more likely to survive them.

    And that’s the kicker; there are proven techniques people can do to save their homes and communities. I’m talking about the Five-Feet Rule, which is pretty simple and non-intrusive. The logic is rather clear; if every home in a neighborhood did this, then the likelihood of the community going up in flames is greatly decreased.

    Sadly, the documentary showed, again and again, how communities would refuse to adopt these rules because they don’t want to government telling them what to do. Even when Cal-Fire offered to help people prep their homes, on a purely volunteer basis, people still refused. The people claimed they were defending their freedom from government intervention.

    But is it that? If a fire comes through, and they lose their home, won’t they expect the government to help them out? To get back on their feet. How can you defend freedom by refusing government help in one situation, but retain your freedom by taking government help in a different situation? It doesn’t seem to line up to me.

  • ODDs and ENDS: Other Guy’s Parking Problems, Tom Brady, and Tired

    “ODDS and ENDS” is my continuing series of random thoughts and follow ups…

    I know I bitch about parking in the City often, and maybe I complain too much, but today I watched another guy flip out over parking. I mean, yelling and screaming. He lost his original spot because he refused to get out of the way of the sweeper, and when he did get out of the way, someone took his spot. Now, the guy who lost his spot was able to get a new one, because people, myself included, packed our cars pretty tight making a space for him. I thought this was one of those Magical New Yok moments where people from all walks of life work together to help someone out. But no… The guy, in his new spot, still bitched and moaned and yelled at all of us… Go, New York!

    I expected more from Tom Brady. I only got 21.98 points off him last night. Thanks a lot, GOAT.

    And I’m tired. I think I have been saying this I was 16, and when I think about it, 16-year-old me really wasn’t tired, I just enjoyed naps. I don’t remember when the last time was when I didn’t feel tired. And I started thinking that it has gone on for so long that there is no way to catch up and not feel tired. Like, there is no amount of sleep, or meditation, or relaxation that will exorcize this feeling from me. And I thought I was tired before I had a kid.

  • Still Dealing with the Emotions

    Today is the third anniversary of my mother’s death. It felt a little different this year. See, when I cross into October, I start to feel this change in me. I start to feel solemn and, well, just sad about everything. A blanket of sadness falls over me. I’m not upset, or angry, maybe melancholy is a better way to describe it.

    Now, I say it felt different this year because I don’t feel the weight of it on everything today. The past two years, I didn’t want to do anything, just be left alone. This year, I can function without being dragged down. I can think of my mother without feeling like I’m going to fall apart, and I can even think about the silly things she would say and do. That is different from last year. I think this day will always have a despondent feeling to it, and that’s okay.

    What I did think about today was how I knew she was going to die even though no one would say that she was dying. She was in the hospital and each day she was getting worse. Dad kept telling me that it wasn’t time to come home, that she could still improve. We all knew it wasn’t true, and I didn’t know what I should be doing.

    So, one day when I left work, and the office was in lower Manhattan, around Wall Street, I just started walking up Broadway listening to music. I walked through the Financial District, through the Civic Center, SOHO, The Village, to Union Square, to the Flatiron District, to Koreatown, the Garment District and stopped at Times Square. About two hours and three and a half miles. It was getting dark when I took the subway home.

    That was a helpless moment; walking and not wanting to get anyplace.