Tag: Marriage

  • Short Story Review: “THE NIGHT THE STARS FELL” by Dustin M. Hoffman

    (The short story “THE NIGHT THE STARS FELL” by Dustin M. Hoffman appeared in One Story, issue 289.)

    (Yeah, I will SPOIL it.)

    I’m really late to the party on this story. “THE NIGHT THE STARS FELL” by Dustin M. Hoffman was published May of 2022 in One Story, and I got around to reading it this past week. I wasn’t planning on writing about this story, since it was published almost a year ago, but when I finished reading it, the piece kept poking, and gnawing at me.

    The story takes place on a Thursday night when all the stars in the night sky have fallen and disappeared. There is Jack, a former accountant who has been unemployed for eight months and spends his days watching tv, and his nurse wife, Catherine, who has remained employed at the local hospital to keep the two of them financially afloat. We learn that Catherine had a miscarriage a little over eight months ago, and their lives haven’t been the same since. It is on this night, that Jack has decided to talk to Catherine about how they should try again to have a child, but with the stars disappearing from the night sky, the conversation doesn’t occur. They decide to drive around town, to witness the chaos as the end of the world appears to be close. They end up at a bonfire at a local grocery store, where Jack makes a realization about his wife.

    One of the things that I appreciated with this story was the decision to make the external event, the stars disappearing, just on the very far out edge of possibility, though highly unlikely. I will take a wild stab in the dark here and say that the stars disappearing is a stand in for the Pandemic; a global event that brings about change and self-reflection. And that’s what I think the story was really about – watching how these two depressed and dissatisfied people deal with a life changing event that is beyond their control, or ability to affect the outcome. They are powerless. But this situation is handled with a light touch, and allows a few moments of humor to pop up, which was refreshing. (It’s not lost on me that the disappearing stars could also function as a metaphor for the miscarriage, but I’m sticking with the Pandemic.) Without these uses of humor, the story could have easily spiraled out of control.

    Even with all of that said, this is a story about Jack and Catherine, and their relationship. When we are introduced to Jack, he is presented as a man who has given up – unemployed for the past eight months by his own passive-aggressive doing, he watches Discovery Channel all day, keeps the curtains drawn. He is showing all the signs of depression with his inaction. He’s a schlub and starts the story at a very low point. Catherine is also depressed, but acts out. Her first reaction to seeing the stars fall is to reach out and try to stop it from happening. Also, she has no issue slapping Jack to get him to focus on the issues at hand. She climbs out of the car, and throws her shoes. Though pointless sometimes, Catherine does take action. Both of their depressions are springing from the same place – the miscarriage. I liked that Jack and Catherine had this dualism. It’s not a revolutionary narrative trick, but in the right hands it can be very effective.

    Now, as the story unfolds it is revealed to us that Catherine, after the miscarriage had an affair, only for Jack to go and have his own affair. We are informed they reconciled after working at it, only to land in a rut of a banal existence with the help of their top-of-the-line HD TV. This paragraph of backstory is given to us right in the middle of the piece, and I know it was meant to function as the explanation of how they got to this place in their relationship when we first meet them. But, this development struck me as odd, especially for Jack. From what we know of Catherine, she is acting out on her depression, thus having an affair fits with her character. But Jack? The guy who never leaves home and watches tv all day? I mean, to have an affair, you have to put for a little effort. What we know of him, he doesn’t follow through with putting out effort.

    I justify my reasoning of this by referring back to the beginning of the story. We are told Jack is ready to try again at having a baby, and that Catherine just needs convincing, but that is only a red herring. When Catherine returns home, and tells him of the stars, he cannot focus on her, but continues to watch tv. Catherine has to slap him, just to get Jack to focus on the issues at hand. To me, this says that Jack never truly intended for them to try again for a baby, let alone have a conversation about it, because it was never at the forefront of his thoughts. He might be saying that he wants a child, but he actions are to stay in front of that TV.

    So, when we get to the end of the story, and Jack “realizes” what Catherine had gone through with the miscarriage, what is his action? He doesn’t go to her to try to console her, or share his new understanding. In fact, another person has to tell Jack that he needs to go to his wife. And as they drive home, the decision that Jack makes, if there is a tomorrow, is for life to go back to the routine. Jack’s decision is not to take action.

    And then that gets me to this question; Can a story have a fulfilling conclusion if the protagonist does not take an action at the climax?

    I think Hoffman attempted to do a little sleight of hand here with the ending. As Jack and Catherine are driving home, Jack, with his new insight to what he believes Catherine has been going through, says that she was right that didn’t try again to have a baby. While Jack appears to be referring to the end of the world that might be coming, Catherine’s agreement seems to be referring to the state of their relationship. Is this relationship a tragedy? Are they star crossed lovers, doomed to fail, or are their fates trapped in the stars, never to be changed? It’s an interesting idea, or metaphor, that Hoffman attempts to use, but ultimately, it falls flat.

    It falls flat, in part due to how Catherine is not treated as an equal to Jack in the story. The narrator tells us what Jack is thinking and realizing, but for Catherine, we are left to speculate. We are never told what her thoughts are, and on a few instances, the narrator isn’t sure what the motivation for her actions are, only to tell us what Catherine “seems” to be doing. Catherine is treated as just another character, like the employees of the grocery store burning shopping carts in the parking lot.

    Because of this decision, “THE NIGHT THE STARS FELL” is Jack’s story. And again, I ask, can a story have a fulfilling conclusion if the protagonist does not take an action at the climax? Jack’s hero’s journey, to use the Joseph Campbell’s theory, is that at the beginning he decides to take an action for a purely selfish reason, goes out in the world where he learns an insight about his wife, and then decide that he wants to go right back to where he started, without making any changes. Jack starts as a schlub and ends as a schlub; it’s not a satisfying journey for the hero.

    Now, I try to follow the rule of critiquing the story that is presented by the author, and not the suggesting what I would have done if I had written the story. But in this instance I am going to make an exception. Mainly to ask; Why wasn’t Catherine the protagonist of this story? She is a much more interesting, and dynamic of a character compared to Jack. She’s complicated, troubled, conflicted, and faces a real crisis of conscious in this story. She also takes action and tries to do things to affect the outcome of the situation she is in. There is drama in her life, not only in her job but in her marriage. Why was Catherine relegated, and she was by the way she was treated by the narrator, to playing backup to a very bland Jack? Catherine’s character could go in a million different dramatic directions, while Jack is locked into a single predicable trajectory.

    Like I said, I was late to the party on this one, but I do think there was an opportunity for a very honest, and humorous story to be told here. It just focused on the wrong person to tell its story.

  • Inevitable Being

    Walking the kid to school this morning, she told me that she didn’t want to get married when she grew up. What she wanted was two dogs, a cat, a rabbit, and that she would be a doctor. I told that sounded like a good idea; there are a lot of people out there who don’t get married, and are very happy.

    She asked me if I always wanted to get married.

    I said no, but when I met her mother, I changed my mind. That’s what happens when you meet important people, they make you think differently about things.

    Then the kid asked me if I had a girlfriend before mom.

    I did.

    Does mom know you had a girlfriend before her?

    She does.

    Did you kiss this girlfriend?

    I did.

    DOES MOM KNOW THAT!

    She does.

    Then the kid thought about this for a while, and then concluded, I’m glad you married mom because it’s weird to think I would have had a different mom.

    And I remember thinking the same thing when I was a kid talking to my parents about how they started dating. That if things didn’t work out between my parents, I would still have been born, but just to a different mother, or by chance a different father. But whatever the pairing, I would have come into existence.

    I kind’a assumed that this childish thought that I had about my birth was due to my catholic upbringing. Having been taught that my soul was eternal, and that I would always exist, it was just a matter of God grabbing me and throwing me down to Earth to be born. That God had a plan for me, and that my birth and parents were just a necessary step in the process of my existence.

    But for my daughter, we aren’t raising her with religion. (That is a blog for a different day.) We don’t shy away from conversations about God and religion, but she hasn’t been giving the stories of how God made her soul, and sent her down to mom’s womb. She’s been told the truth, that she is a creation of a little bit of mom, and a little bit of dad, and when it’s put together, it creates an original her, unlike anyone else in the world. Yet, she still believes that her existence is inevitable. That there was nothing that would stop her coming into being.

    This isn’t a surprising revelation, now that I think about it. Can anyone really think of a world where they weren’t in it?

    Just a sweet philosophical morning with the kid.

  • Short Story Review: “The Last Grownup” by Allegra Goodman

    (The short story “The Last Grownup” by Allegra Goodman appeared in the February 27th, 2023 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (I will SPOIL the story.)

    Illustration by Geoff McFetridge

    Being a grownup sucks, and being a divorced grownup sucks even more. This is the basic idea behind the short story “The Last Grownup,” by Allegra Goodman, which follows Debra, a divorced grownup woman, as she navigates the official end of her marriage, and the changes that come with an ex-husband, teenaged daughters, and life with a dog.

    There is nothing revolutionary or groundbreaking in this story; just a solid piece of honest “slice of life” fiction. I was struck on how ordinary everyone was in this story. There is no drug addiction, strange sexual desires, angry confrontations, or absurdist flights. This was a story about people you might know, or friends of friends you have heard about. People you would be happy to know that are doing their best to make the divorce work, in the best possible way. You know, those people.

    Goodman structures the story to function and travel in two parallel lines. The surface line is Debra doing all the “right things” or giving the reactions that a good, well-adjusted grownup would give in situations. When Debra informs her parents that her divorce is officially over, her mother asks to keep Debra’s wedding picture up in the house. Though Debra says she’s fine with her mother doing that, you getting the feeling Debra isn’t okay with it, but doesn’t say anything. And this is the second, under current line of the story; Debra not allowing herself to say, or express what she really feels, because that’s not what a grownup would do.

    This structure could have become very tedious, and made Debra a weak and passive protagonist. Yet, Goodman knew to make the “offenses” that come Debra’s way never amount to a true outrage or betrayal. What happens are annoyances. Things one could complain about, but a grownup should just let go.

    Such as the climax of the story. Debra’s ex-husband, Richard, and his girlfriend, Heather, are planning on getting married, but Heather ends up getting pregnant. The three grown-ups gather to discuss the best way to tell the teenage daughters. They decide that Richard and Heather should announce the engagement first, and then a little later, announce the pregnancy. Yet, when the day comes, Richard and Heather announce both developments at the same time. They changed the plan, and Debra says nothing. Even when one of her daughters suspects that Debra was aware ahead of time, Debra side steps answering the question as to not draw attention away from Richard and Heather’s moment.

    What this parallel line structure creates is a wonderful melancholy sadness in Debra. She’s grownup enough to know that complaining would accomplish nothing. And she is grownup enough to recognize that everything is changing and that, she will, eventually, have to change as well. And this sadness is never blatantly expressed, but is shown through Debra’s actions, or lack of actions. The muted responses are so telling, and helps define Debra’s character as a good, decent person.

    I liked that Goodman told a subtle story. A story about adults behaving like well-adjusted adults. But being well-adjusted doesn’t mean that one is drama or conflict free. Being a grownup can also mean that you have to let some things go, so you can continue to move forward.

  • Thoughts on Time and Settling (Unedited)

    The wife and I made a promise to each other for 2023. I don’t want to call it a resolution, because those are stupid, and doomed to fail. The promise we made was twofold:

    “No more wasting time, and no more settling.”

    This isn’t self-help garbage, like the “Hang in There” kitten poster. This is a pragmatic reminder.

    We do waste an enormous amount of time each day. Looking at our phones is the biggest culprit. But also, mindless eating while looking at the tv. Staying up late to stay up late (that one’s all me) and I have to go back and mention the phones again, because, you know, phones will eat up hours of your day. See, and this time wasting leads to us having to settle on things, because we haven’t given ourselves enough time to accomplish the things we want to do. It can be a vicious cycle, and we’d like to bust out of unhealthy cycles.

    And like all changes in life, no one really likes it, and it’s hard to follow though on.

    The wife is doing better than I. She is making it to yoga on the scheduled days, and going to bed on time. I can’t seem to get to the gym more than twice a week, and that should increase to at least three to four days a week. Like I said above, I’m still not making it to bed on time, which means I’m only getting like six hours of sleep.

    And as we start the game of setting goals and trying to achieve them as a family, I can’t shake the feeling that there is a clock, and I am running out of time. Maybe it has to do with being in my mid-forties, which I have been thinking about a lot of late, and that I might need to have to make some tough choices; I can’t do it all – something will have to fall to the wayside and be left behind.

    I have been with my wife for seventeen years, married for twelve, and they have been good years. We have a kid we love, and want to provide for, which is the real motivation for this. We will only have so much time with her, and then she will be out there in the world. We need to be parents that she can count on, and follow through when we say we are going to do something.