Category: Short Story Review

  • Short Story Review: “Status in Flux” by Weike Wang

    (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.

  • Personal Review: KUDOS by Rachel Cusk

    (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.

  • Personal Review: Ted Lasso Season 3 and The Whole Thing

    (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.

  • Short Story Review: “Civil Disturbance” by Said Sayrafiezadeh

    (The short story “Civil Disturbance” by Said Sayrafiezadeh appeared in the June 19th, 2023 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Photograph by Holly Andres for The New Yorker

    This week’s short story from The New Yorker is “Civil Disturbance” by Said Sayrafiezadeh, an author I never have read before until today. It’s a competent short story that does a very good job of creating an unnamed fictional city that the characters exist in, which by extent, gives the protagonist ample breath of motion to go on his journey.

    This is a first-person story, and the narrator also is unnamed, like the city. He and his girlfriend Molly, are out canvassing for their favorite candidate three days before the mayoral election. Molly works for the candidate’s campaign, as she has a clipboard of voter information, while the narrator give off a feeling of more “along for the ride” with his girlfriend. They bicker with each other, also implying that their relationship is near ending. The narrator works at a gym, a membership salesman, and his job skills come in handy speaking to potential voters when they answer the door. It happens that they come across a former high school classmate of the narrator’s. The classmate’s name is Bryce, who was a straight-A student that the narrator bullied in high school. Bryce works at the Wal-Mart next to the narrator’s gym, and happens to support a third-party candidate. The next day Bryce shows up to the gym looking to join, which the narrator is ready to upsell him, but then starts to have a change of conscious, only to have the power go out – blamed on the incumbent mayor. That night the narrator and Molly go out, and he throws bricks in the windows of the house that didn’t answer the door, which includes Bryce’s home.

    There was a lot to like in this story. It flowed well, and had some nice touches of humor in it. The story was efficient on the whole, and worked with a minimum number of characters, who were clearly defined with understandable intentions. I also enjoyed how Molly would say something, and then the narrator would use that saying later in the story, showing he was listening, and applying what she said, though not in the correct way. And I was fascinated by this fictional city – it felt lived in, rundown, and struggling.

    Yet, something kept nagging at me about this story which kept me from committing to it. One was that it did, sort of, have a “Dead Chick in the Basket*” moment at the end, where it is shared with us why this former high school jock became a gym membership salesman. I don’t think this information was needed about the character because we know that he is emotionally stinted, stuck reliving his past high school glories, and how that has affected his present situation. Knowing it was his coach who pushed him in that direction actually provides no new emotional insight on the character. The second issue took me a moment, but when I reread the story it hit me; this dumb jock talks like a writer. I offer this example; “Today’s particular conflict had been set in motion by the banal-”. Yeah… sorry, but no. The narrator doesn’t say “dude,” or “bro” or use any sports metaphors in describing any situations he’s in. The character is “jock” in name only – not in thought or action.

    And that was it. Too bad as well, because I did enjoy what this story was saying about elections, politics, and how people interact with each other. Also, like I said before, Sayrafiezadeh did create a very lived in fictional city, that I was intrigued by, and wanted to know more about. I have a feeling that I will search out his other works, because there is something here, even if this story wasn’t completely even.

    *  “Dead Chick in the Basket” refers to a clichéd writing device where the final paragraph of a short story contains new information about a character which is meant to make the reader view the actions, statements, or feelings of that character in a different light. The first known use of this device was in J.D. Salinger’s short story “Just Before the War with the Eskimos.”

  • Short Story Review: “The Soccer Balls of Mr. Kurz” by Michele Mari (Translated, from the Italian, by Brian Robert Moore.)

    (The short story “The Soccer Balls of Mr. Kurz” by Michele Mari appeared in the May 29th, 2023 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (This story will be SPOILED, so beware!)

    Illustration by Guido Scarabottolo

    The old “losing your ball over the fence” story. It’s nice to know that boys in other countries have this issue as well. Seems like most kids grow up with this situation – the ball goes over the fence, and it is never seen again. Then the imagination takes over allowing wild stories to be created about the owner of the yard, and their dark evil soul, for only the vilest of humans would refuse to return a ball. I would say, “The Sandlot” comes to mind for most people when you talk about this situation. And it is a wonderful premise/structure/metaphor to address youth, nostalgia, coming of age, and a host of other ideas that writers have when they create stories about boys.

    Michele Mari’s story, “The Soccer Balls of Mr. Kurz,” in essence is no different. Here the boys are in a boarding school playing soccer, and one of their goals abuts against a wall that belongs to Mr. Kurz’s backyard. When a soccer ball goes over the wall, Mr. Kurz, though polite about it, does not return the ball. Out of complete frustration, the boys hatch a plan to send one of their own over the wall to retrieve the balls.

    Though a predictable plot, Mari’s story does rise above the cliché. This narrative exists in a world of nostalgia, and I wouldn’t say the narrator is unreliable, but he does take some liberties with the truth, and in a very funny speech given by one of the boys, acknowledges this liberty. What this creates is a very charming world that these boys exist in, where their desire to have a fair and regular soccer match becomes the most important concern in their lives.

    I did have two minor issues with the story. First was the delivery of backstory, especially the rules that govern how the boys acquire new soccer balls. Most of this story, information is given directly to the reader from the narrator, but in this one situation, the boys explain the rules to each other. It felt clunky, and didn’t fit with the overall flow of the story. The second, and this is very nit-picky, is that I don’t know a single European male who speaks English that calls “soccer” soccer; it’s football. In Italy, the term is “calcio” which means “kick.” This makes me believe that this was a translation decision. Soccer is an American used term, and in this setting, it left a taste in my mouth that the story was “Americanized.”

    Now, what drew me in with this story was the well-executed climax. One of the boys does go over the wall late at night/early morning only to discover what Mr. Kurz has been doing to the balls, as well as how he spends his time in that yard. I’m trying to not spoil this, so forgive my vagueness, but when this boy receives a new ball from his father, and does what he does with it, all of the threads of this story are tied nicely together. I appreciated that Mari used that final moment to show this boy’s new understanding of the world. How the boy is essentially still the same, but his viewpoint of the world had expanded. That this boy knows he is now part of a moment in time.