Tag: Love

  • Flowers

    Tuesday, normally, I go grocery shopping for the family. I try to shop for the entire week, not that it always works out because I will forget something. To accomplish this errand, and try to save some money, I head to multiple stores, one of them being Trader Joe’s – specifically, the on one 93rd.

    Walking into the store this morning, I saw that the flowers they had out looked particularly colorful, and it had been awhile since I had got the wife flowers. They have those three-dollar bouquets, which are rather small, so I bought two of them. I made sure that each bouquets was made up of different types of flowers, so that I would bring home a variety.

    I did my shopping and when I was checking out the clerk looked at my two bouquets asked, “Are you in trouble?”

    And I was like, “They are for my wife, but she’s having a hard week.”

    “It’s Tuesday.”

    “Been that kind’a week.”

    My wife works very hard, is going back to school, and has to deal with me and a daughter who acts like me. And she is having shoulder pain, which she has seen the doctor about and it is getting better, but it’s still there. Constant pain, even low-grade pain, can take a toll on you and wear you down. And it’s a pain, that no matter how hard I try, I have no power the alleviate. The best I can do is help her relax, and try to make her as comfortable as possible.

    Today, I tried flowers to see if that would help.

  • Short Story Review: “This is a Dog” by Joanna Theiss

    (The story “This is a Dog” by Joanna Theiss appeared in Milk Candy Review.)

    It is hard to pack an emotional pay off in under 1,000 words. Not impossible, just hard.

    Joanna Theiss does this rather masterfully in her flash piece “This is a Dog,” which is one of the best examples of a story paired down to the essential, the marrow of it, and at the same time, leaving enough gaps for the reader to fill in, thus allowing the story to come alive, and have an impact.

    The story is about a dog, if you couldn’t figure it out. And it’s about loving another, and the hope that you did right by them, maybe never knowing for sure.

    Theiss does use a story trick of starting each sentence with “This is…” I’ve seen this type of trick before, from armature writing groups to the pages of The New Yorker. Yet, I will say that Theiss does it correctly. The “This is…” creates a rhythm to the story, helping it charge ahead, and as the piece progresses, the “This is…” begins to take on different meanings from the narrator. Also, Theiss structures her story very well, dividing the piece in five sections, each with a specific narrative function, that not only builds to the climax, but lands perfectly at the conclusion. And that conclusion also nicely ties up the “This is…” motif, making the whole story feel that we have completed a journey with the narrator, who has been changed forever by the events.

  • The Ebbs and Flow of Christmas Time (Unedited)

    Christmas time is here again, just in case you didn’t know.

     

    The year has flown by. The tree is up, and we are getting ready to start doing all of the Holiday stuff. You know, shopping, wrapping gift, baking cookies, seeing friends. The usual. And I do enjoy celebrating Christmas in New York City. For all the things this City is famous for, it really is a Holiday Town.

     

    It’s taken awhile for Christmas to start feeling fun again for me after the passing of my Ma. The absence of a parent during this time of year seems to hammer home the void that has been left. I think I have been doing a good job with trying to keep Christmas fun for the kid, and I do worry that my sorrow and mourning might affect her enjoyment of the Season. I think I have succeeded in this effort.

     

    I can also admit that slowly, year by year, the joy of Christmas has started to slowly return to me. It’s still not the same, and certain things, traditions, still don’t ring true as they used to. But now, I feel the kid’s excitement of this time of year, and that is a replenishing feeling that helps alleviate the experience of loss.

     

    And that is where I am now. I miss my mother, and I know that my Christmas will never feel the way they did when she was around, and that’s okay. My Christmas now is about my family, and making the kid have memories, and building something new on top of the love that was shared with me.

  • Short Story Review: “The Autopsy” by Lyudmila Ulitskaya (Translated, from the Russian, by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky.)

    (The short story “The Autopsy” by Lyudmila Ulitskaya appeared in the August 28th, 2023 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (You know there are SPOILERS, right?)

    Photograph by Tereza Zelenková for The New Yorker

    First of all, I do want to give credit and say thank you to the Fiction Editor at The New Yorker, for exposing me to another Russian author. (I haven’t read this much Russian literature since I was a freshman theatre major.) In the writers of late, I have found this very interesting dynamic in their storytelling, where they take a pragmatic and a fantasifull world, and then combine them in a seamless fold of a believable surrealism.

    “The Autopsy” by Lyudmila Ulitskaya continues this form. It is a simple story that moves between a coroner, a mother, and her son. The storytelling is impressive, and with a few lines, I was pulled into this piece. The economy of words, simple yet pushing the story forward, lulls the reader into the throws of this very pragmatic world, first starting with a coroner. Then the story shifts to a mother who is looking for her missing son. Again, the beautiful simple language tells us of her wrenching, difficult life story, and the heartbreaking love she has for her son. Then the story shifts to the son’s perspective, and again we are betwixt by the magic of these words, though the language stays in it’s realistic form, we now move into an ethereal realm. All leading to the final section, and a completion of this story that leaves us feeling that this journey has fulfilled its purpose.

    I loved this story. I loved how it ran me through these lives, how they were connected to each other, and how strong and painful love and loving someone can be. There was a tragedy to this love, but also a dignity to loving someone so much. I appreciated that Ulitskaya swung for the fences on this, and made these two realms fit together. But most of all, I loved they style in which this story was presented; never going down a rabbit hole of flourishes or needless details. It got the job done in an effective use of language (And I know this was a translation) that never felt like a word was wasted.

  • Shorty Story Review: “Untranslatability” by James Yeh

    (The short story “Untranslatability” by James Yeh, appeared in the January 6th, 2022, Issue 6 of The Drift.)

    In a love story, really, there are only two outcomes; they get together, or they don’t. If they get together, it’s because the characters had to struggle to get there, and they learned something along the way which will lead to why they deserve to be together. If they don’t get together, then at least they learned something about themselves which will make them better people, and thus, the relationship was necessary. In “Untranslatability” by James Yeh, the author tells us near the start of the story, that the characters, Charles and Emily, are doomed, which puts them in the “don’t get together” category.

    The story follows as such; Emily, who is a translator, gets a grant to go to Germany and translate the work of one of her favorite writers. Charles, who is a struggling writer working at a media company, supports this decision, but Yeh makes us know that Charles agrees to this because it reflects well on Charles to have his girlfriend this talented, not because he believes in Emily. Since we know the outcome, Emily meets someone else, breaks up with Charles over a video chat, and he is left wondering what to do next. Charles decides to make a grand gesture of going to Germany to try to win her back, which plays out not as awkward as you would think, but is still doomed, as we know it will be. Charles returns home, and starts to get his life in order. A year later, Emily’s book, on the writer she translated, is published, and Charles writes a blog about it. Then she invites him to the book launch party, where they see they have come to a place of understanding.

    I struggled with this story, not sure how I felt about it. In fact, I wasn’t even sure how James Yeh felt about it either. Yeh seemed to be very disappointed in the character of Charles, which makes you unsympathetic toward the character. At the same time, Emily does come across as a neo-Magic Pixie Girl; smart, confidant, driven, and successful without a fault in sight. Yet, I also felt like Yeh made this decision to try and buck the stereotype of these types of stories. Maybe they were doomed, not because they were star-crossed lovers, but because they weren’t good for each other, and no amount of change or internal growth was going to garner a different result. Maybe. But I’m still not sure. Yeh did touch and some very authentic moments, such as when Charles was torn between concern for Emily’s sick father, and his contemplation if he could use that situation to his advantage. (Very shallow, but a brutal honesty.) And the final paragraph was especially on the nose; maybe you can learn something, but still not change who you are. Maybe.