Tag: #books

  • Short Story Review: “Family Lore” by Téa Obreht

    (The short story “Family Lore” by Téa Obreht appeared in the November 9th, 2026 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Tabby Booth

    I have been trying to find the source of this quote, and I believe that either Edward Albee or David Mamet said it, but it goes something like this: All modern drama revolves around the idea of deception, or characters hiding the truth from each other. (I do know that characters deceiving each other is like 99% of all the plots for situation comedies.) This dramatic device makes total sense; a character wants something, so they lie to others to achieve their goal. And there is another element, which is the penalty that will occur if the lie or deception is exposed. This is the risk, which frames how powerful the character’s want is, but it also shows what will happen if the lie falls apart, which you know, creates peril and more importantly, drama. It’s a simple device, and in regard to Téa Obreht’s “Family Lore,” a device whose execution in this story was fumbled, leaving the story on flimsy legs.

    “Family Lore” does play a bit like a sit-com. It’s the story of a family returning from the hospital with their new born baby. The husband bumbles his way through issues, trying to solve them as best as he can, all the while trying to keep these issues from his wife. At first, he struggles at finding an inconsequential baby hat that he lost, but then it gets more complicated when he tries to recover a bat, that may have bitten his dog, so he can send it to Animal Protection to test for rabies. See, a rather sit-com like premise, which implies opportunities for complications and comedy. Yet, the husband’s motivations are never solidly concrete in the story. You could make assumptions about his motivation, but as far as I could tell, there was only one line in the third paragraph of the piece; “But his job was to keep the world at bay.” And this line was regarding the husband trying to keep the wife calm when things go bad. Sure, it works as his motivation, but it’s flimsy. I have to say that this is an example of why a writer should “show” and not “tell” the reader. As in, what happens when the wife gets upset? Did it happen in the past, and if so, what was the outcome? How did that outcome affect the husband, let alone the relationship between the two? Obreht does “show” other situations with characters, the neighbors for example, which explain why the husband treats them the way he does. So, I am confused why this fundamental motivation of the story is resigned to just one line.

    This flimsy motivation choice by Obreht does have a ripple effect as the story progresses. As the stakes get raised in the story, and the husband stumbles into more and more lies, I began to question why he was doing this to himself? I understood the lies toward the downstairs neighbor, but why was he lying to Animal Protection, or the upstairs neighbor, or the party goers, and especially his wife. It appeared that if he told the truth to these people, he would have gotten what he wanted easier. It started to build a resentment, and a frustration in me toward the husband. Honestly, if he picked up his phone and told his wife everything, I think it would have solved his problems with a minimum of effort. So, why was he lying?

    It’s as if “Family Lore” was almost there as a story. Which is too bad, because I don’t think The New Yorker publishes very many humorous stories. And it did have all the pieces to be a good one; it was building toward something, I enjoyed how the piece ended, and most importantly, it was funny. It reminds me of another old adage when it comes to a character dealing with a situation that keeps getting more and more out of control; for it all to work, the audience has to understand that the character fully believes that they will still succeed. When you can’t figure out why a character is doing what they’re doing, it’s hard to have confidence that their success is even important.

  • Short Story Review: “Wall Cano” by Souvankham Thammavongsa

    (The short story “Wall Cano” by Souvankham Thammavongsa appeared in the November 2nd, 2026 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Lewis Chamberlain

    The first school science fair I participated in was six grade, and the kid that won the fair built a working model of a volcano. He had the whole baking soda and vinegar eruption that came overflowing out of the top of his mountain, which was so well done, we all assumed that his father had helped. To this day, when the words “science fair” are spoken, my memory goes back to that volcano, and the intertwined feeling of awe and disappointment. Memory is funny like that, because as an adult looking back, I can see now that I was lazy, and didn’t take the time on the project, and maybe the kid who won actually earned the top prize. Souvankham Thammavongsa’s “Wall Cano” is a story that also has a volcano from a science fair in it, but uses this prop in a very ingenious way, which addresses memory, childhood, and parenting.

    The story is about more than a science fair, or even a volcano. Even though the protagonist is remembering her childhood, its presented not as the past in retrospect, but more like a living memory. Tangents and incidents are remembered, not so much as to move the plot forward, more to decorate and color this world that the story takes place in. Not everything is explained, nor is every motivation understood, because this world is remembered from a ten-year old’s perspective. This creates a feeling of innocence in the story; a touch of curious wonder, but not confusion. The protagonist and the younger brother work to understand their world, as their parents aren’t guiding them. This is not due to neglect, but being that the parents are immigrants, the father refers to himself as a refugee, so they aren’t accustomed to how some thing work. And by proxy, neither do the children.

    I’m leaving out details of the story on purpose. A little bit because I don’t want to spoil it, but also because what is revealed, and how it is revealed, is an important part of this narrative. What seems random in fact is building the protagonist’s budding cognoscente reality. She might not understand how these things are connected, but she knows they are connected, yet we can see that they are connected. I loved that Thammavongsa trusted us, the reader, that we’d put it all together for the narrative to work, but still left it vague enough so there was a feeling of mystery.

    The final section of the story wraps everything up very well; asking how memories stay with us, continue to live in our consciousness, and influence us. And also, leading us to wonder how things would have been different if there was just the slightest bit of change, or even guidance.

  • Short Story Review: “Appeasement, Ohio” by George Saunders

    (The short story “Appeasement, Ohio” by George Saunders appeared in the October 26th, 2026 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Photograph by James L. Amos / Getty

    How hard should a writer make a reader work? That was the question I kept asking myself as I read George Saunders’ “Appeasement, Ohio” which is a quirky little story. I’m not saying that getting though it was like reading Joyce’s Ulysses, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being asked to work at reading this story.

    How to describe the it? Lots of moving parts; family, cousins, kids, falling outs, reconnection, loyalty, obligations, conspiracies, tough love, and history. There is no secret, or big reveal in this story, but getting into the details of how this piece unfolds feels like I would be killing some of the fun of reading it in the first place. I will say this, the story did feel like it was inorganically structured to have three storylines that were supposed to weave together – or possibly not – but either way it stuck out as being manufactured rather than authentically blending into the narrative.

    What I wrestled with in “Appeasement, Ohio” was the style that the story was written in. Ultimately, Saunders’ writing style did complement the narrative. With the characters fragmented lives, a wildly unbelievable conspiracy theory, a surreal riot, and the loss of vision, nothing seemed on solid ground here. So, when the writing is chunky, choppy, even repetitive at times, it creates a feeling of disjointed incongruent tangents not fully lining up. This caused me, more than once, to have to go back and reread a section, to verify that I read what I read. For what this story was trying to express, it all successfully came together.

    But it was a bit of work to get there.

  • Short Story Review: “Chuck Murphy’s Last Run” by Kevin Barry

    (The short story “Chuck Murphy’s Last Run” by Kevin Barry appeared in the October 19th, 2026 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (Illustration by Thomas Colligan; Source photograph from Getty)

    Just about nobody likes getting older. The exception in my life is my kid, who looks forward to every birthday, with the adding another digit to her age. For the rest of us, at some point a switch is flipped, and getting older is something that is dreaded rather than celebrated. Kevin Barry’s story “Chuck Murphy’s Last Run” takes a stab at this predicament, using a group of aging Irish friends, who all belong in a quasi-biker gang, as they journey to send off their mutual friend who recently died.

    The story begins with a solid first paragraph, establishing that what will follow will be humorous as it tackles a somber situation. This approach worked well for the story, which was a very competent piece of writing. Nothing got too serious, as Barry would slip in a joke or two to break any building tension. Motivations were understood, and the interplay between characters felt honest. In all, the story moved at solid clip.

    Yet, nothing happened in this story that wasn’t predictable. You knew they were going to make it to their destination, you knew they were going to say goodbye to their friend, you knew people in the group were going to have an argument, and you knew the main character was going to learn that life was changing, again. This is the reason why I used the word competent to describe this story, because that’s what it was. I could diagram out this story, it was so well constructed. I wouldn’t call it paint by numbers, but it might be two steps away from that.

    What “Chuck Murphy’s Last Run” felt like was a piece of store-bought cake. Sometimes you just want a spongy, sweet piece of cake that hits the spot. It’s a good piece of cake, but five minutes later, you’ve already forgotten about it.

  • Short Story Review: “A Very Safe Place” by Rachel Heng

    (The short story “A Very Safe Place” by Rachel Heng appeared in the October 12th, 2026 Issue of The New Yorker.)

    (Illustration by Vanessa Saba; Source photographs from Getty)

    Rachel Heng’s “A Very Safe Place” is a timely story. Set in Singapore, it confronts the complicated situation of immigration; Its motivations, what constitutes doing the right thing, and the threat of punishment. It also is about a child coming to see the world for what it is, and how disappointing and confusing that can be. All of these are themes and ideas that I applaud in a story – especially one that aims to be as realistic as possible. There is no happy ending here, or nice bow that will wrap everything together. Though sober and stark in its writing, it’s an honesty that is needed when speaking on this subject.

    The story left me feeling melancholic, like there was a dark cloud hanging over all of it. Another way to describe it, is that this story is colored in black in white. Not in a moralistic simplicity, but more for the starkness and complexity of these issues presented. (Like how a black and white movie seems more realistic than color.) The good father who has to make a difficult decision for the safety of his family, a mother whose rigidness keeps her family protected, an immigrant striving for a better life, and a boy slowly coming to understand that the world is filled with complications that aren’t easy to square.

    But, unfortunately, that melancholic started to veer into joylessness as the story neared its end, which made this average length story feel like a trudge. My mind did wander and wonder when this was going to wrap up? That was due to the story playing at one dramatic note of seriousness, with nothing to break the tension, or even to play with fluctuating the tone.

    In the end, “A Very Safe Place” is another good story from Rachel Heng. Where it succeeds most is showing how the boy discovers the larger world he now lives in. Hopefully, this encounter will lead him to a life filled with empathy and compassion, regardless of the consequences.