Tag: BEST of 2022

  • This Week: Best of 2022 (Final Countdown Edition)

    This week, the days between Christmas and New Year’s, is one of my favorite periods of the year to relax and reflect. My little family will be all together, playing with our new toys, watching movies, and reading books. This week feels like the reward for surviving the insanity that is Halloween to Christmas. And as such, I won’t post any blogs until the start of January, 2023.

    For this week, I will be posting the top five blogs that have received the highest view counts. A “Best of 2022 (Final Countdown Edition)” so to speak. The fifth most viewed post will be today, Monday, and I’ll work our way up to the most seen post on Friday.

    I would also like to take a moment and say thank you, to all of you, who have stopped by and read my blog over the past year. I’m not delusional here, I know this is a little blog, that garners little traffic, which makes me very appreciative to those of you who do stop by. Again, thanks for helping make this fun.

    And (you know it’s coming) if you like what you have read, don’t be stranger, go ahead and like, comment, and share. Thank you for your support.

  • BEST OF 2022: Short Story Review of “Wood Sorrel House” by Zach Williams

    (The short story “Wood Sorrel House,” by Zach Williams, Appeared in the March 21st, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (I see spoilers!)

    I do not know what to make of this story. I haven’t stopped thinking about the thing since I finished reading it, but I still can’t come up with what it’s all about. And this is meant as a compliment. If a story lives on in the reader’s mind, and does dissolve into forgotten nothingness as soon as they are finished with it, then that author has achieved something. I tip my hat to you Zach Williams; your story is taking up space in my brain.

    “Wood Sorrel House” is about a couple and a toddler seemingly trapped in a cottage in the woods. Days pass, they age, but the toddler does not. Each morning food and supplies are replenished in the house, thus allowing them to live in the cottage. The couple tries to figure out where they are and why they are there, and soon they discover the toddler is never able to get hurt.

    I have an ego, and some days I think I am smart, and when I started reading this story, I was like, “Oh, this is an absurdist styled story, and it’s a metaphor for death.” Because, if my college education taught me anything, it’s that absurdist/surrealist/modernist stories are all really about death. But as I kept reading, I began to doubt my ego-driven conclusion. Why was the snapping turtle killed? What happed when the male in the couple disappeared? What happened to the toddler when the woman went down to the lake for days at a time? Why did the couple age, and get injured, but the toddler was immune and also ageless?

    I found that this story was taping into emotional territories that made me react. Perhaps it’s because I’m a parent, but I kept feeling this sense of dread for the toddler, that something awful was going to happen. There was a sense of disgust in how the man went out a destroyed nature. And a sense of sorrow as the woman tried to make sense of all of it. I was reacting to this story, I was compelled by it, but I couldn’t make sense of it. If it wasn’t about death, what was it about? Was it the lack of logic? Things stayed the same at the cottage, but the outside world seemed to keep moving; not changing into something different, but just moving along. Was this a metaphor for dealing with Covid? Maybe it had no meaning, but that would make it about death, right? What was it?

    Like I said, I don’t know what to think about the story, but the story is making me think about what it could be about. That’s a pretty successful story.

  • BEST OF 2022: Short Story Review of “Annunciation” by Lauren Groff

    (The short Story “Annunciation,” by Lauren Groff appeared in the February 14th & 21st, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    First of all, I am not related to Lauren Groff. Second, this is the first short story by her that I have read. And it was a good one to start with. From the first paragraph, I felt like I was on a journey, and was being guided by a person who knew how to unfold a story. If you haven’t pieced it together, I liked this story, and I am suggesting that you should read it. For that reason, I will forgo a synopsis of the piece, and give my reflections on it.

    Lauren Groff crafted a well-made short story. As it unfolded, I didn’t know where I was being taken, but after I finished, I could see the structure that held the story up. The opening, narrator development, introduction of characters, seemingly random incidents, rising action, climax, resolution, and even a denouement, which not too long ago I was complaining about the use of denouement in short stories. I mean, the title tied in to the denouement, as well. But the structure wasn’t the only admirable quality of the story.

    What I loved reading was about this narrator who was not perfect, who did struggle, and was still struggling. A person who had these moments, anecdotes even, that represented the life she led, and she still found herself thinking of these people, and the mysteries that never will be solved. And, this was a personal favorite of mine, the narrator was literary person without being a writer character. I fully believed that she was introspective, empathetic, and aware of the small details of the world she inhabited.

    But it was the theme, the through line, of motherhood that ran through the story that impressed me. Though I didn’t catch it as I was reading it, the denouement captured, and focused the theme for me. It made me reevaluate each of the women in the story, their form of motherhood, and how they are viewed or apricated by their children for what they do, or have done for them. This theme of motherhood didn’t fit neatly in a box, meaning that I didn’t feel the story was trying to say motherhood is “this way.” Mothers are all over the map; good, bad, wonderful, awful, secretive, open, all different and yet the same, somehow. And for some, motherhood takes a toll.

    That makes the story sound dark or overtly complex, but I found myself optimistic, and hopeful at the end of the story. Lauren Groff created a journey in this story, so we all came out on the other side different from this experience. I liked the world that this story is in, and the characters who inhabit it. Stories like this leave me feeling inspired; that short stories can express truths, and have weight. That they are worth reading and creating.

  • BEST OF 2022: Short Story Review of “So Late in the Day,” by Claire Keegan

    (The short story “So Late in the Day,” by Claire Keegan appeared in the February 28th, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (And there are SPOILERS!)

    Character study, as a short story format, is one of those “classic” forms that’s taught in school; an analysis or portrayal in literature of the traits of character of an individual – so says Merriam-Webster. I find this form is used in the absence of a plot, as the “climax” of these stories usually is when the reader discovers the reason why the character behaves the way they did in the story.

    That’s what “So Late in the Day” basically is. We meet Cathal at his desk on July 29th, which is a wonderfully perfect weather day. He clearly is avoiding people, and even his boss suggest that he head home early, but Cathal prefers to finish out his day, per normal. After work he takes a bus home, and then the story starts to unfold his romance with Sabine. As this relationship is shared with us, we begin to see the faults in his character. When they decide to get married, and Sabine moves in with Cathal, we see his misogyny on display, which is also registered by Sabine. Then the reveal comes, and it turns out that July 29th was to have been their wedding day, which now has clearly been called off.

    Keegan’s writing is fine, and engaging. I found the character believable, and could see why they were attracted to each other, but the story still left me with the feeling that something was missing. I felt like the story wasn’t clear on what its intentions were for the reader. As a character study, it fit the mold – dude’s a misogynist, hence why his girl leaves. But, what are we supposed to feel about that? I don’t think the intention was to feel sorry for Cathal. He is upset with the situation he is in, but I don’t think he learned his lesson, which implies that this behavior will repeat. That’s unsatisfying. But, with Cathal being the focus, I feel that the intention was that Cathal should understand his responsibility in creating the situation that he is in, but I didn’t find that through line in the story. What I found was that Cathal wasn’t a good guy, but he wasn’t a bad one either. It was ambiguity, and that’s a tough one to end on for a character study.

  • BEST OF 2022: Short Story Review of “What the Forest Remembers” by Jennifer Egan

    (The short story, “What the Forest Remember” by Jennifer Egan, appeared in the January 3rd & 10th, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Why did our parents do the things that they did? Why did my dad stop buying sports cars in the 70’s and then start buying station wagons? I can guess, which is that he started a family, and two door sports cars just aren’t practical for a growing family. That’s a logical answer, and most likely correct, but there is an outside chance it could be something else. Do I want to know his thought process as to why he made this decision when it came to cars? No. I want to believe he made that decision because he loved his family and it was the right thing to do. I would hate to know that he was guilted by my mother to give up his sports car for a station wagon, and he spent the rest of his life resenting her and his kids. It’s not a pleasant thought, but it is possible.

    I feel that was what Jennifer Egan was trying to tackle with her short story, “What the Forest Remembers,” which is a fun read. She tells the story of four men, three of which who are married with families, all living around the San Francisco area in 1965, who go on a trip to the wilderness around Eureka, CA. The point of the trip is to visit a marijuana farm/commune, experiment with grass, and have a good weekend. The crazy right turn of this story is that the narrator, Charlie, who is the daughter of Lou, one of the four men going on the trip, has access to the memories of her father, the rest of the men, and even some of the people at the commune. This is because Charlie exists in the near future where people have uploaded their memories into a Collective Consciousness, and thereby, one can review memories and thoughts of the past. It was a bit of a jarring twist, but it had a slight Vonnegut feel to it, so I went with it. I don’t want to spoil the story, but this trip plays an important role in the three married men’s lives.

    I had to read this story twice, because the first time through it, I just felt like I had missed something. The story and the writing is very, I think, charming is the best way to describe it, but the ending left me feeling unsatisfied. I sat on it for a day, and then decided I needed to take another crack at it. The second time through, I began to pick up on a little of the nuance of disappointment Charlie has with her father, which I found at odds with the concept of the story. If the premise is that Charlie can see and hear her father’s thoughts and memories, then there shouldn’t be any vagueness on her understanding of his intention and thought process of those decisions. There are moments and lines that are dropped by Charlie about her father’s thoughts towards her, that you would believe would be difficult for her to hear, but these thoughts are treated like adjectives in describing a person’s hair color. In fact, at one point in the story, Charlie rhetorically asks what should be done with this overload of information that comes from viewing a person’s memories? Which causes Charlie to state, “Not every story needs to be told.”