(The short story “Colorin Colorado” by Camille Bordas appeared in the July 10 & 17, 2023 issue of The New Yorker.)
(SPOLIERS AHEAD!)
Photograph by Ryan Frigillana for The New Yorker
I loved it.
It was much better than The Lottery.
I going to read it, again and again.
(The short story “Valley of the Moon” by Paul Yoon appeared in the July 3rd, 2023 issue of The New Yorker.)
(SPOILERS should just be expected.)
Illustration by Dadu Shin
“Valley of the Moon” is an exquisite short story by Paul Yoon. Writing a good short story is hard enough, but writing a short story that feels lived in by complicated and authentic people, is pretty damn tough. Yoon takes it a step farther, and creates a story that speaks to the cycles in life, and how meaning remains elusive for some people.
The story is about Tongsu, a one-eyed man who, after the end of the Korean War, returns to the valley and home he was born in. His family is long gone, but Tongsu repairs the home, and makes his way as a substance farmer in the valley. There is a river that runs through the valley, and a set of rocks that as a child Tongsu was told the moon emerges and crashes down every night – only to repeat the process the next evening. One night, by these rocks, Tongsu is attacked by a man, who Tongsu kills out of self-defense, and proceeds to bury by these stones. Soon, two orphans, and boy and a girl, from a local church come to live with him. Years pass, and then one day a man comes through the valley looking for his uncle that went missing years before, but Tongsu is able to send the man on his way without raising any suspicions. Not long after that, one of the pigs dies, and Tongsu beats the boy for it. This leads to the children running away, leaving Tongsu alone again. Then the story picks up with the girl, Eunhae, now living in a city, working in a hotel, and creating her own life. She is given Tongsu’s phone number through the church, and she calls him. The reconnect, though never discussing the past, and she decides to visit him back in the valley. Things happen, but you can read about it.
What I loved about this story, and I just latched on to it, was the prose of this piece. It’s third person, with a detached and unemotional way of presenting the story. There is a “matter of fact-ness” to it, almost a simplicity, that keeps to story moving forward, but it never hinders the emotions. I found myself tensing up as the stranger arrived looking for his missing uncle, and also a pure shock of Tongsu snapping one day and beating the boy. And when the conclusion of the story arrives, still in this simple and direct prose, I was moved at how well these pieces played together, and brought me to a feeling that I had truly lived through this experience with these characters.
And that is the real trick with this story – creating that feeling of cycle, and continuation. I loved how this story was making the point, ever so slyly, how one decision creates new decisions, and how certain choices can never be undone. I also enjoyed how this was a story about fading memories, and what we decide to hold on to, and let go of. All of it coming back to the idea that life continues on, repeating the cycle.
“Valley of the Moon” by Paul Yoon is the type of short story that makes me love short stories. This is a world that is different from my own; I am presented with characters that are realistic and complicated. There is a plot and a climax that feels organic with the story that’s being told. It all feels so easy and simple, and I know creating a story like this isn’t easy or simple.
(The short story “Status in Flux” by Weike Wang appeared in the June 26th, 2023 issue of The New Yorker.)
(As in life, there will be SPOILERS!)
Illustration by Jiayue Li
First, we had stories about Covid arriving. Then there were the stories about living with Covid. Now we have arrived in age of stories after Covid, and what it all meant. “Status in Flux” by Weike Wang is at the vanguard of the “after Covid” era with all the questions: What did it all mean? How has it affected us? Some people have moved on, while others haven’t; why?
As the story begins, the narrator informs us that the world recently opened up for travel after Covid, while at the same time she is having intense insomnia which she is addressing by driving at night to twenty-four hour grocery stores to peruse the froze isle. Just from the opening, this piece is witty, clever, and humorous. The narrator is in process of applying for a green card so her and her husband can travel, because everyone else in her life has gone off to travel. Her Canadian parents, her younger sister-in-law, her in-laws, and her friends. But, because of the green card process, she cannot leave the country. The story daftly intertwines all of these storylines, while also giving the narrator ample ability to dwell on her life as an immigrant, first from China as a child moving to Canada, then moving to America for grad school.
Weike Wang is a very good writer. The story moved at a good pace, the characters felt individual and authentic to their own situations. Like I said, there is a healthy bit of humor in the story, and a few running and call back jokes are thrown in as well. The piece is well structured, showing Wang’s skill of not over staying any one storyline too long.
Yet, at the end of the story I couldn’t shake the feeling that nothing happened. All of the other characters go out in the world, but the narrator and her husband are stuck at home in New Jersey, waiting to see if she gets her green card. I get that narratively, logically and thematically that this is the point of the story, but it didn’t feel satisfying. The narrator keeps doing the same thing at the end of the story that she did at the beginning – driving to all-night places while dealing with insomnia. Also, the narrator doesn’t seem to learn anything, or gain any new knowledge, and emotionally, she never grew from where she started. It was frustrating because in the final moment of the story, the narrator is talking of driving to the boarder, all phrased as questions – so it’s just a hypothetical, and not a choice or an action.
This story really did charm me, and I enjoyed reading it. As I got closer to the end, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it did feel like it was building to something. For that reason, I can’t say that I loved this story, but I most certainly didn’t hate it. I would have to say that I had the mildest, lightest of disappointments with it. But in the end, you should read it.
(SPOLIERS, but I don’t think you can spoil this novel…)
I’m a big fan of Rachel Cusk. Ever since I read a piece on her in The New Yorker a while ago, and I think the article was about the OUTLINE Trilogy, I have found her to be a huge inspiration and a fascinating author. She does a great job in fooling me in believing that we are close friends, and the conversations she shares with me, makes me feel smarter. Like all very talented writers, she’s also part magician – conjuring a relationship with the reader that never really existed, and making us feel that we are the only person she is talking to.
I finished KUDOS, the final novel in the OUTLINE Trilogy last week. All in all, it took me the span of five years to read the three novels. I can understand how a person would argue that this delay in completing the series would be detrimental to my understanding, if not appreciation of the trilogy. Yet, I don’t believe it has. Returning to these books is like visiting an old friend from college. Things pick up right where they left off, no feeling of lost time. And this friend doesn’t try to guilt me for my absence.
If one were to look up reviews for these books, almost all of them will make references to how these books are a new form, even an experimental version, of what an autobiographical novel can be. Some will even compare the books to Karl Ove Knausgaard’s My Struggle series, which might be applicable. I don’t agree with the comparison, as Karl is overtly autobiographical, while Rachel only hints at autobiography, but clearly has kept her protagonist a fictional version of herself. Which lead me to start to believe that all the “new form of a novel” was more marketing hype than actual reality.
Don’t get me wrong. I loved KUDOS, and the other books in the trilogy, OUTLINE and TRANSIT. As I settled in on reading this book, I found the familiar style that Cusk has; this very easy, yet highly intelligent way of writing. She doesn’t speak down to the reader, but it feels that I am being included in the conversations. This time around the author/protagonist is at a writers conference, talking to other writers and people. Again, the persons who occupy this world have no issue, and are very adept at opening up and sharing events, observations and experiences with her. At one point, another writer does point out how odd it is that all the characters in the author/protagonist’s novels have no problem confessing all their sins without much prompting – a sly mete joke Cusk put in her own novel.
It’s true, people do not speak the way Cusk’s characters do. But, Tennessee Williams’ characters speak in a way that can only exist in the worlds that Williams creates, and as such, I believe that Cusk is casting that same spell. It’s not reality, but it is a world I would like to live in. To speak to a person on a plane about the family dog of theirs that just died, or the tour guide who loves to walk the city, or the other women writers that still have to deal with ex-husbands that intend to do them harm, both physically and emotionally. It’s an unburdening that has no expectations to it. The reader isn’t asked to act, or pass judgment, but just hear and witness that these lives exist. It’s an environment that becomes very comfortable, and enjoyable.
And in the end, without a climax or even rising action, the book concludes, leaving the feeling of conclusion. That to me is the trick, and an impressive one at that. I have been given a journey, but I am not sure where I have gone, or what, if anything was accomplished. But I know I went some place, I learned, and that must be what is accomplished. And as I ponder on that, maybe it isn’t a gimmick to call these books a new form of novel. There is a different way to tell a story after all.
(SPOILERS! You shouldn’t have to ask…)
I finished it. Over the weekend, I finally got around to watching the final episode of the 3rd season of Ted Lasso. I had a complicated relationship with the 3rd season. I was watching in three-episode chunks over a two-week period, and then I would get off the wagon for a week or two, only then return. In fact, I waited two and a half weeks before I was able to see the last episode. And that, in a nutshell, gives you an idea of my dedication to this final season; It was on and off.
Sadly, the third season of Ted Lasso was uneven, made all the worse by my deep desire for the final twelve episodes to be amazing. That was my fault, and my mistake. I didn’t let the show just be what it is, but went in with expectations that were pretty hard to live up to. That affected my experience, and when an episode wasn’t “perfect”, it made me hesitate to come back to the show. Perhaps I need to watch the third season again – just marathon through it, and not think too hard. Maybe.
As of now, I have to say that the third season of Ted Lasso was the “Return of the Jedi” of the group. It wasn’t as good as “Star Wars” (Season One) or “Empire” (Season Two) but if you compare it to other shows, it was a pretty good season.
There were things that I did like; the episode in Amsterdam was great, Colin’s story was a nice addition, Trent being added full time to the cast was another nice touch, and I will say that each of the endings that the characters were given felt satisfying and true to who they were, and who they became. The show was about being positive, and it ended that way.
But, there were also some glaring issues – Keeley was totally wasted which was a real shame as she was such an important part of the show. She was left floundering with a storyline that never meshed with the rest of the show. Also, Nate’s redemption arch seemed rushed. We all knew he was coming back into the fold, but it just felt a little off. And then there was that Zava thing, which felt half baked, and was only there to get the team to a competitive place for the season end. For a show that was about slow burn realizations, trusting the process, and putting in the work, it didn’t feel like the team earned their place in the League – it was just handed to them.
With the series now over, and it is over, I have to say that they, the whole Ted Lasso team, did a very good job. It was a show in the mold of a work place comedy which never lost sight of a very simple message – be kind. It arrived at a perfect time – in the middle of Covid and they final year of Trump’s administration. Because of those factors, I think we collectively wanted to believe that being around good people was worth it. It was the type of show that was needed at a specific moment, and it delivered. This is a show that I know I will re-watch, whenever I need to laugh, or just remember that people can change for the better.
