Category: Short Story Review

  • Short Story Review: “Trash” by Souvankham Thammavongsas

    (The short story “Trash” by Souvankham Thammavongsa appeared in the June 13th, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (Things might get SPOILED)

    Self-perception, self-worth, first impressions, the desire for acceptance; these were all the themes that swirled around and in the very compact and effective short story “Trash” by Souvankham Thammavongsa. The story is about a young female cashier at a local grocery store who falls in love and marries a man in five days after meeting him at the store, and then the man’s mother comes to visit. Mother-in-laws can be tough, and let’s be honest, the mean mother-in-law is a cliché. Hell, even the illustration for the story leads you to that conclusion as well, and as I read the story, I didn’t have high hopes for what I was going to unfold.

    Yet, what followed was a very well-crafted comparison for two self-made women, their attitudes toward the world they occupied, and how they desired the same thing, but attacked it in two very different ways.

    The young woman, the cashier, is from a world of rude honesty. “If they didn’t like you, you’d know about it and they would say it to your face,” the cashier informs us early in the story, “There is no pretending.” The cashier’s parents died when she was in her last year of high school, and she had to drop out to support herself, as there was no one to help her. She took the job at the grocery store, and she came to enjoy the job, and apricate the employment as it gave her an opportunity to provide for herself – an apartment and furnishing that were all hers.

    The mother-in-law, Miss Emily, had gone to college, graduated law school, became a partner, owned her own practice, bought property, worked hard to make something out of herself, as the young woman tells us. Miss Emily’s husband had died several years ago, a sudden heat attack, and she had married him right out of college, as we are told, because having a family was what she really wanted.

    When the women meet for the first time, they go to dinner and Miss Emily tells stories of her son, and when they all are on their way back to the son’s apartment, Emily askes about the young woman’s family, where in the story of her parents death is told, as well as how proud she is for having supported herself. Miss Emily’s reaction is to ask if she would quit the supermarket job now that she was married to her son. Miss Emily wants her to quit the job and go back to school, to make something better of herself. The next day, Miss Emily takes her shopping, so she can have clothes that look like a wife of a man who works in an office. But when they return to the son’s apartment, Miss Emily changes and starts to complain to her about the cleanliness of her son’s place, and that she, as his wife, needs to do something about it. The young woman takes a break, and goes outside of the apartment, and wonders about a mother’s love, and how she wants that as well.

    And it was this ending of the story that broke my heart a little. I could feel through the words how much the young woman wanted to belong, to be a part of this family, and believing that her mother-in-law was doing all of this out of love, and that she wanted to be recognized as a productive member. But I also felt that for the young woman to get all of that, on some level, she would be forced to admit that where she came from, and what she had made herself into, just wasn’t good enough. Heartbreaking for me, because clearly the young woman was just as much as a “bootstrap” self-made woman as Miss Emily, but her achievements were viewed as less worthy.

    It’s the type of story where I want to tell the young woman that she is good enough, and she does have value. But, I also have the feeling that her desire to be loved and validated will lead her to reject all that she has earned on her own. It’s a harsh reality, but also very honest.

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

  • Short Story Review: “The Boy Upstairs” by Joshua Ferris

    (The short story “The Boy Upstairs” by Joshua Ferris appeared in the June 6th, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (Just a slight hint of SPOILERS this time around.)

    I think it was Robert Altman who said that all stories have a philosophical viewpoint, which can be as simple as supporting or challenging the status quo. I was almost a philosophy major, I read the important books by important thinkers, and would say that I was more in the classical mode of thinking, and not so much with the Modern thought. I was always saddened when people viewed philosophy as a waste of time, something that had no relevance in the world. So, anytime I come across a writer who infuses a philosophical question into the plot of a story, it makes me excited that there are people still asking those questions.

    Joshua Ferris did that with the short story “The Boy Upstairs.” It’s a little philosophy and a little Book of Job all rolled into one. The protagonist is only referred to as “she” and what we learn about she is that she is an adjunct philosophy professor who is married but has no children. It is hinted that she is a person who is not all good. A friend, who is researching in Antarctica, first texts her that they need to speak. Her first thought is that her secrets are about to be revealed. When her friend does call, it is to tell her that he thinks their mutual friend’s son has committed suicide at twelve years old. Her first reaction is relief that the call was not about her secrets, but then she begins to feel guilty for feeling that way. Then she has a thought that she would be willing to be humiliated if that meant her friend could have her son back. Thus, starts a chain of events that leads to a climax that consists of a question.

    As stated before, I’m a sucker for any story that touches on a question that is even slightly in the realm of philosophy, and I would chalk this story up to that. A question is asked, events happen, and then ending is left for the reader to interpret based on how they answered the first question and viewed the events. I find this stuff fun, and I do like the way Ferris structured the story. Yet, I still couldn’t shake this feeling of being dissatisfied. I have been thinking about it for two days, and I’m still not sure what it is that is causing this feeling in me. I guess I could say the structure of the story was a bit academic and predictable, but at the same time, to ask these questions, the story gets locked into this structure. I could also say it’s the open-ended climax, but as I stated earlier, I feel the ending needed to allow each reader to bring their perspective to the story. Or, it could be that the story was written to ask a question that was to leave me feeling dissatisfied no matter what answer I came up with. All of that can be true and wrong at the same time.

    See, I’m a sucker for philosophy.  

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  • Short Story Review: “Invisible Bird” by Claire-Louise Bennett

    (The short story “Invisible Bird” by Claire-Louise Bennett appeared in the May 30th, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (Odds are there are SPOILERS!)

    Well… I’m not sure what to make of “Invisible Bird” by Claire-Louise Bennett. I have had this happen to me several times of late, when reading a short story from a magazine; I finish reading it, I don’t dislike it, but my gut tells me that I am missing something. Like, if I wouldn’t have missed that one day in my senior English class, then I would totally understand this story. Or, being that I didn’t get an MFA in creative writing, that’s why this story doesn’t work for me. That might be true, but I hope it isn’t. In these reviews, I try to read each story as is, and don’t read up on the author, or research anything the author has to said about the story. This way I enter the story with a clean slate, tabula rasa so to speak, and go with what my gut tells me.

    My gut tells me I’m missing something.

    The story is about a girl who recently finishes her degree in London, but being that she is behind on her rent, is politely booted from her flat, and is forced to move back home. Then, her and her boyfriend, after he sells his car, go to Dublin, only to find themselves homeless and scrounging to survive. They live on the streets for a time, make some unsavory friends, beg, work jobs that steal from them, but still earn enough money to rent an apartment. They build a home in the apartment, and the girl starts to write, the boy moves back to England, while she stays in Dublin. The End…

    The story is pretty straight forward, like the description I gave, and I was entertained by it. But what I didn’t get was how to feel toward the girl. Essentially, her and her boyfriend are, for lack of a better term, are “slumming it.” They are tourists. They are college educated young people, who choose to be homeless. The girls describes their experiences in a light, almost, fun way. I kept rereading to see if there was a hint of irony, or sarcasm, or even satire, but I couldn’t find it. The story felt like it was presenting the girl, and all of these events as straight. And if that is true, then why did this girl want to be homeless? (I have worked in a shelter, and being homeless is scary and tough as shit. I have never met anyone who wanted that life.)  So, what am I not getting here?

    It felt too easy for the girl, and too succinct. It made me wonder if this was an excerpt from a novel, or a much longer story that was pared down. It’s not bad. Just, it felt like something was off.

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

  • Short Story Review: “Occupational Hazards” by Jamil Jan Kochai

    (The short story “Occupational Hazards” by Jamil Jan Kochai appeared in the May 23rd, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (Yes, there are SPOILERS, so just go read the story!)

    I liked this story, and I liked this story a lot. And let me tell you why.

    “Occupational Hazards” by Jamil Jan Kochai tells the story of a man’s life, starting at Logar Province Afghanistan in 1966, and ending in the present day in West Sacramento, California. The story takes the form of job descriptions for different periods of this man’s life; from being a Sheepherder, to Grade-School Student, to Mujahid Recruit, to Refugee, to Lawn Technician, and so on. It was a form that, at first, I felt was a little gimmicky, almost like it was making lite of the subject.

    But as the story progressed, and as the boy became a high school student, his “job” is to be loyal to the constantly changing national leadership, then to the Communists, and to hear about purges and coups, and the disappearances of leaders, thinkers, and imams. A dread begins to fill the story, and even with a very basic American knowledge of Afghanistan’s recent history, we know that the Soviets are coming, and years of civil war and strife. I mistakenly thought that the cold dryness of the job descriptions would take away from the drama. Jamil Jan Kochai is in control of this story, and the effect of the descriptions, keeping them detached from emotions, only heightens the horror and tragedy that this man experiences. The fact that so much befalls him, but he keeps fighting, pushing forward, and seemingly holds all of this in. We know what this man does, but we don’t know how he feels about it. What does it feel like to lose loved on after loved one, to fight for your survival, to be uprooted and move half the world away, and try to start over in a new country and culture? But then the final job description comes, and there is such a cathartic release for this man as his new job is as a witness; describing to his oldest son, who has asked him questions, about Logar, and Afghanistan, and the brother who had been murdered at the hands of the Communists. That all that this man had done to survive, and build a life, to ensure that his children were all educated, and had opportunities, and still, he never forgot about his younger brother that he couldn’t save. Just heartbreaking.

    I also loved how this story rejected the sentimentality and cliché of this immigrant story. I think a lesser writer would have played on our emotions, and thus created a very predictable story. What Jamil Jan Kochai gives us is a very full-throated argument why immigrants are a necessary and vital part of this nation, but it is never preachy, or romanticizes this man’s experience. It also reminded me that for some people, getting to the United States is monumentally difficult, and it does deserve respect from the rest of us.

    This is the type of story where I wish I could shake Jamil Jan Kochai’s hand, and say thank you for sharing this.

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

  • 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.)