Tag: #Reviews

  • Short Story Review: “The Honest Island” by Greg Jackson

    (The short story “The Honest Island” by Greg Jackson appeared in the November 11th, 2024 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Photograph by Yosigo

    “The Honest Island” by Greg Jackson revolves around, and functions off of, the idea that the protagonist, Craint, finds himself on an island, but he can’t remember how he got there, or why he is there, or pretty much anything else. It’s a good type of mystery to start a story off with. In case you don’t know, “craint” also happens to be the French word for “fear.” (Yup, it’s that type of story.)

    Craint goes about his business on this small island. Generally, staying at his small B & B, going to the beach, napping, drinking beer at sunset, and contemplating why he can’t remember anything. Yet this doesn’t bother him too much. Though he can’t speak the local language, he has found ways to get by, and even has met a woman whom he occasionally dines with, but nothing much happens with her. Craint can see across the harbor, where a city looms, so he knows he’s not completely cut off from the world, but at the same time, he cannot seem to find the ferry to take him off the island. Then along comes a new person, a man named Budger, who also is confused as to why he is there, and persuades Craint to show him around the island. FYI: “budger” is an English word from the early 1600, which means a person who stirs or budges. (See, that type of story.)

    It’s not a bad story, it’s okay, but at certain moments, it can be heavy handed. (Have I mentioned the character’s names?) What works for the story is how the mystery of the piece, the tone, and setting, work very well together. It feels solid, but also like shifting sand under your feet. Jackson didn’t over play that hand, which kept the story compelling and engaging. Where the story lost steam, was the rush to the conclusion. What came before in the story took it’s time, but the ending felt like it was trying to beat the clock and get to the finish line. For that reason, what the conclusion was didn’t feel complete, and in a strange way, predictable.

  • Short Story Review: “Autobahn” by Hugo Hamilton

    (The short story “Autobahn” by Hugo Hamilton appeared in the September 23rd, 2024 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Christoph Niemann

    Funny how a situation, a moment that you are experiencing, can unlock a memory that even sometimes has nothing to do with what you are doing. Walking into my kid’s school the other day, I started to remember being at my grandmother’s house, and how it would smell when she was making apple dumplings. Interesting, how moments in our lives can be keys to the past. Hugo Hamilton’s “Autobahn” plays around with that idea, but in a more dramatic fashion.

    Here’s a super simple description of the story: The narrator, an Irish hitchhiker in Germany, is questioned at gun point by a police officer along the Autobahn, and while being held there, the narrator begins to remember his father.

    This is a very short story, and though it isn’t a flash piece, it had that quality to it. Also, this story did remind me of a song, perhaps because there were two “melodies” happening with the piece; the cop story line, and the father story line. (And then it could be that the story ends mentioning a Doors’ song.) I found that Hamilton did a good job switching between these two narratives, like jumping from the chorus to the bridge, and then back again. Both story lines had the threat of violence to them, which created tension needed to keep the story dramatic, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that the narrator was never really in danger.

    What I found most interesting about “Autobahn” were two bits; one was the theme, and the other was the climax. I liked how Hamilton laid out the difficult and conflicting the relationship was between the narrator and his father. How the father could be abusive toward his son, but also encourage his son’s talents, and how circling that square is a never-ending challenge which ends up making memories of the father always close to the surface. Then there was the climax, where the narrator describes a moment when he saw his father at a newsstand, but his father didn’t see him. It was drawn well, and had a lasting but fleeting feeling to it.

    I liked this story, though it did feel light. Like, the story wanted to go to a third gear, so the speak, but pulled back in the last section. Over all, Hugo Hamilton created a very specific emotional moment, that I could relate to, as sometimes you can’t stop a memory from coming up.

  • Short Story Review: “Consolation” by Andre Alexis

    (The short story “Consolation” by Andre Alexis appeared in the May 20th, 2024 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by André Derainne

    If you have read any of my reviews, then you know that I am a sucker for a story about death, especially if it’s a story dealing with the death of a parent. “Consolation” by Andre Alexis is such a story, as it deals with the death of both the narrator’s parents, but it is also about how parents’ shame can affect their children, can affect a marriage, and can affect the community they live in.

    The piece begins with the narrator telling how he got in an argument with his elderly mother over driving directions, and the narrator was so hurt but his mother’s anger, that he didn’t speak to her for two years. Only when they reconciled, did the narrator learn that his mother had dementia, and most likely the fight was a precursor of her disease. This leads the narrator to recount the death of his father, which happened a decade earlier, and though we feel that the son loves his father, we also learn that the father was a serial philanderer, thrice divorced, and despised by the narrator’s mother for the infidelity. Then the narrator tells us the story of his father, who was born in poverty in Trinidad, worked his way up and out by becoming a doctor, and then married the woman who would become the narrator’s mother. Together, they started a family, and moved to Canada, to a small all white town, where the father dealt with the indignity of the town’s prejudice, to become a respected member of the community. It is also the place where the father’s infidelities began to be noticed, and affect the family.

    This is a well thought out, and written, short story. The characters are compelling. The family dynamic is honest, complicated, and uncomfortable. It’s paced well, has a very unique climax, and I just didn’t like this story when everything is telling me that I should. I have been thinking about, and thinking about it, and I should like this, but something just feels off to me. And today, it came to me; it’s passion. Which is even more striking as there is a paragraph in this story that is about passion – between the father and another woman, and the son realizing that this moment of discovering this passion lead him to his career as a lawyer. That this is a story about passions, between lovers, between family members, how they can spark trust and betrayals. Yet, I found the narration less than passionate, which I can only say was done on purpose. This passionless narration juxtaposed with these lives driven by different forms of passion which elicit reactions of shame, desire, and anger. I go back to the start of the story and the narrator describing the argument he had with his mother. The way it is described is almost clinical, factual, without any hint of what the narrator was feeling. It is an event that is only described and not felt. I get the decision to write this story in this way, to make the point that is needed for it to have its conclusion. This artistic choice left me feeling divorced from the emotions of these characters, which explains why I couldn’t connect with the story.

    I will fully admit that I am the odd man out here. I can totally understand why people will love this story, and be dumbfounded by my inability to relate to this piece. Yes, it’s me, and it is not Andre Alexis. You should read this story, enjoy it greatly, and then shake your head at me for not getting this story.

  • Short Story Review: “Life with Spider” by Patrick Langley

    (The short story “Life with Spider” by Patrick Langley appeared in the February 5th, 2024 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Photo illustration by Hana Mendel for The New Yorker

    First of all, when I read a story that has to do with a grown man and a large insect, I can’t help but think of “The Metamorphosis” by Kafka. And I have run into more stories than I can count about men and bugs. (Kafka created a secret literary genre that no one talks about.) It’s unfair to Patrick Langley that I immediately made that comparison when I started reading “Life with Spider,” but when I finished the story, I think Langley was counting on me to do that, so he could mess with my head.

    “Life with Spider” is a story about Fletcher Hardy and his bug-like creature called Spider, even though it is not a spider. We are told off the bat that Hardy, not his real name, has given permission to the narrator to tell the story, provided that we aren’t able to figure out who the “real” Hardy is. It’s an interesting framing of the story as everything that Fletcher says and does, in essence, is told to us second hand. Several specific details are given about Hardy; who his family is, where they live, what he does, and what they do, and so on. It made me wonder if the narrator was lying to “throw me off.”

    Either way, we learn that Hardy is being visited by a six-legged insect like creature, which will not leave him alone. Hardy convinces his friend, the narrator, to help get rid of the creature. I don’t want to give away too many details, leave a few surprises, but I am sure you can surmise that Hardy and the narrator survive, as they are telling this story.

    I enjoyed this story even though it did befuddle me. I mentioned the one above about the details and if the narrator was reliable. But the big question for me about this story was, what was Spider? Did it represent something specific? Was it death? Since the two main characters were young men transitioning into adulthood, was Spider a metaphor for their transition? Possibly, Spider was a manifietation of their friendship? Was I supposed to think about Kafka? Am I thinking too hard about Kafka? And the story had a “Dead Chick in the Basket*” ending, which maybe made sense? Or maybe it wasn’t supposed to make sense?

    What “Life with Spider” reminded me of was some of the more fantastical stories from The Elephant Vanishes by Haruki Murakami. Both had a sense of play, humor, and the humans in the stories react with a relative sense rationalism to their extreme situations. I didn’t need “Life with Spider” to make sense or tie up all the loose ends neatly, because the enjoyment was trying to figure out a mystery that would never get completely solved.

    *  “Dead Chick in the Basket” refers to a clichéd writing device where the final paragraph of a short story contains new information about a character which is meant to make the reader view the actions, statements, or feelings of that character in a different light. The first known use of this device was in J.D. Salinger’s short story “Just Before the War with the Eskimos.”

  • Short Story Review: “Poor Houdini” by Anne Carson

    (The short story “Poor Houdini” by Anne Carson appeared in the January 29th, 2024 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Lauren Peters-Collaer

    Well, yeah!

    “Poor Houdini” by Anne Carson is the type of short story I love falling into. Why beat around the bush here; This is a fabulous story that happily reminded me how much fun it is to be engaged and enthralled by the ways a writer takes words, and language and plays with it, creating mood, atmosphere, and a lyrical mist which surrounds their story. I wasn’t sure what I was getting into with that first paragraph, but by the end I was ashamed that I wasn’t aware Anne Carson before today.

    I guess there is a through line of a story here; a female poet, romantic entanglements, a crow, the rescue of a woman from a collapsed balcony, and the writing of sonnets. Picking apart this story seems antithetical to what this story exudes; which is a sort of lived life that is filtered through a poet’s eyes, and their reactions to those events. And these events can and should be explored more, but I only have so much time.

    Because what grabbed me was the language and how it danced to life. “There is stillness after rain. Rank risings rise. Trees drip. Street lamps loom. Night takes on a polish, a pure power.” I know this feeling, this setting, and it’s as if I can touch it with my fingertips, yet it stays magically elusive. Carson weaves these words, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of melancholy, as this is a world of people looking for connections with each other, but nothing seems to land the way they want or expect. But they keep moving forward, not exactly flailing, but grasping – at least the poet does.

    I know that I am not doing the story justice, and this isn’t so much a “review”, as it is more a “gush.” I think part of my reaction to “Poor Houdini” is that it also brought up in me the memory of being young, in college, and the world was still able to be discovered, emotions could be surprisingly new, and it mattered to attempt to create something out of that jumble of life. I can’t completely put my finger on it, but it felt very close to what Anne Carson wrote.

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