Tag: Short Story Reviews

  • Short Story Review: “Between the Shadow and the Soul” by Lauren Groff

    (The short story “Between the Shadow and the Soul” by Lauren Groff appeared in the December 16th, 2024 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Photograph by Xuebing Du for The New Yorker

    Sometimes when I read a short story, in my mind I can hear the gears of the story’s mechanics grinding away, snapping into place, moving it all forward, and churning out the work of fiction. Other times, the author’s machinations are as silent as an evening breeze in summer, but still felt and causing an impact. Then Lauren Groff creates the story “Between the Shadow and the Soul” where I can feel the mechanics of the piece, but is written so well, with such character, flavor, and so wonderfully brutally honest in regard to couplehood, that it left me feeling better having gone on this journey with these characters.

    What we have is a story about Willie and Eliza, but really about Eliza, a couple that has been together for over twenty-five plus years in upstate New York. They live in an old home they purchased right after they got married, and have spent those years fixing up. Now, with Eliza at fifty, she has reached retirement age from her job at the Post Office, and decided to act upon it. But retirement doesn’t suit her, and with Willie’s encouragement, and occasional participation, Eliza begins to explore life through local arts classes, pilates, and especially a gardening class. (Now, go read the story.)

    When I said that I could feel the mechanics of this story, what I meant by that was how the craft and structure of this story was very close to the surface. When the joke about kids was made, I knew that was coming back into play. The couple Eliza discovered having sex at the boathouse; there’s another meaning there. The fact that Willie and Eliza’s relationship started clandestinely; oh, you that this was foreshadowing something to come. Yet, I can also say this story did take a winding path which never felt superfluous. At all times, the story felt purposeful and controlled by a steady hand.

    That deft touch was never more on display than Eliza’s growth over the course of the story. She is such a complex and detailed character. There are many authentic pieces to her, but what I connected with most was how “retirement” wasn’t a reward but a prison for Eliza; she is the type of person who works at life, and losing that work from her job, in addition to the loss of working on their home, she found herself lost. Such a clear and easy situation to understand and grasp as to why it would bring about her motivation in the next part of the story. But I would also be remiss not to touch on the relationship between Eliza and Willie, and their level of intimacy. Not just sexual intimacy, but the intimacy of knowing your partner after so many years, and knowing when they are hurting, and when they are hiding. And I loved how they both grew and moved forward in this story, and one of the conflicts was how they had to learn and adjust to loving this new person.

    Like all good stories, I am leaving out so much, and I know if I were to read it again, I would discover new depths and details to Eliza and her life with Willie. To have a story about growth and discovering passion, and also to be a story where neither member of the couple is the “bad guy,” left the whole piece feeling refreshing, alive, and honest.

  • Short Story Review: “Minimum Payment Due” by Saïd Sayrafiezadeh

    (The short story “Minimum Payment Due” by Saïd Sayrafiezadeh appeared in the November 25th, 2024 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Hannah K. Lee

    If there is one issue that no one talks about, but is shaping the future of America in profound ways; it is debt. Student loans, medical bills, car loans, mortgages, and especially, credit cards. Having debt was unthinkable to my grandparents, as that was a sign of a type of moral failure, as you lacked the ability to live within your means. Now, everyone has some form of debt, and the way it’s going, our collective debt is only going to get bigger. “Minimum Payment Due” by Saïd Sayrafiezadeh deals with debt, and the shame and frustration that comes with it. The story also explores the desire for solutions, and faith that resolutions are out there.

    Overly Simple Synopsys: A guy has way too much credit card debt, and can’t get out from under it. He looks for relief in self-help books, therapy, and in the end, an old friend from high school invites him to a “graduation” with an unexpected outcome.

    What really worked for me was the protagonist, and how he found himself in his debt, and how he looked for ways out of it. Oh, the narrator is completely unreliable, as he cannot seem to stop lying to everyone else, including himself, so I see no reason why he would tell us the truth. And I think that plays to the shame that comes with debt. There is also an element that this debt is a form of addiction for the narrator, as he just cannot stop spending money, looking for a purchase that will make him feel better, but only leads him to spend more money. And that’s what I liked most about this story, how it very subtly parallel debt and addiction. I felt that Saïd Sayrafiezadeh was making a very good point that capitalism and consumerism lead to debt addictions in some people, leaving them feeling vacant, thus looking for someone or something to deliver them from their crisis.

    Unfortunately, I had issues with the ending of the piece. It was the whole final section where the narrator goes to his friends “graduation.” I wasn’t sure what point was trying to be made. That debt is just a cycle that repeats over and over again. Or that people in debt have to admit that they are powerless against it, like in AA. Or was the narrator just a cynical person who never had the intention of solving his issues. I feel the point was to be ambiguous, letting the reader decide, but it left me feeling frustrated. Did the narrator learn anything? Does the narrator want to learn anything? Either thought left the story feeling incomplete.

    All in all, I have to say that I did enjoy the piece, with one clear exception. I have said this several times of late when it comes to New Yorker stories, but this one felt like it was the first chapter of a book, or at least a much larger story. I hope that’s what it is, because I would be curious to read that book.

  • 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: “From the Wilderness” by Yukio Mishima (Translated from the Japanese by John Nathan.)

    (The short story “From the Wilderness” by Yukio Mishima appeared in the November 4th, 2024 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Joanna Blémont

    How does the phrase go; “The unexamined life is not worth living.” At least, that’s the philosophical dictum that has been credited to Socrates. Some days, I think that is the job of a writer; to examine life and make it worth living. That was the mind space I was put in when I finished reading “From the Wilderness” by Yukio Mishima.

    Here’s my overly simplified synopsis: A mental unbalanced youth breaks into the home of the author, which causes the author to contemplate life and loneliness.

    Couple of things here. I appreciated the structure of this piece. The first part was from the author’s point of view of the incident. Then the second part was an overall description of the entire incident, showing how the other people in the home reacted. Then the final part was the author contemplating the event, trying to make sense out of it. In this structure, the narrative of the event goes from very narrow, to expanding to a wider view of the many people in the home, and finally taking in the world of the intruder, and the larger world in general. In this way, the narrator goes through a progression of expansions, which leads to the author having a new understanding of the world he lives in, and creating a feeling that a journey has commenced.

    But what I enjoyed most was that this was a story that took its time. Mishima was patient with his storytelling, letting the ideas of loneliness evolve and develop, which had a natural and authentic feeling to it. I know this is a work of fiction, but with the narrator also having the same name as the author, it creates a conundrum of how much of this is fiction, or reality? Sure, it’s a device, but played well here as it lends itself to give a legitimacy to the thoughts and conclusions.

    They don’t make stories like this anymore. Short fiction that enjoys language (Bonus points to this translation,) playing with language, and isn’t afraid to take time, but not waste our time. Maybe this wasn’t the most profound story I have read recently, but Yukio Mishima reminded me that life is meant to be examined.

  • Short Story Review: “War Dogs” by Paul Yoon

    (The short story “War Dogs” by Paul Yoon appeared in the October 28th, 2024 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Wesley Allsbrook

    I had no idea that airports have animal centers. I feel like I should have known this before, I mean, with all the time I have spent at airports and seeing all the animals that come through there, it seem obvious now. It must be such a mystifying experience for animals to be loaded on a plane, taken to some place new, and how their heightened senses discover that new place.

    If you couldn’t guess, Paul Yoon’s short story “War Dogs” takes place at an animal center at one of New York City’s airports. It is an intertwined story of animal caretakers, a veterinarian, a mother traveling to Korea, a brother and sister set of dogs from Afghanistan, and a horse. Some of these characters ran from destructive situations to start better lives, some are pulled back into their old world, some are physically changing which causes them fear, while others want the comfort of those they love.

    The story was structured in eight sections, or vignettes. Each sharing insights and developments with the characters. It was a practical form to use for this story, as Yoon’s storytelling was well balanced, so we never dwelled too long on one particular plot line. It reminded me of jazz, with the theme acting as the rhythm of the piece, with each character getting a solo. This allowed each character to get fleshed out, giving some depth, and I am being vague on poupose to not spoil this story.

    Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it didn’t wrap everything up as it should have. What this piece felt like was the first chapter of a novel; characters are being introduced, goals are set, complications develop, questions are raised. But not everything is concluded, leaving many questions left in the air. In this state, I was left feeling stood up, and incomplete.

    I understand the old adage that a writer should leave the reader wanting more, but in this case I want a novel about this place, the animals, and the people. I don’t need to tell you Paul Yoon is a good writer; read this and you’ll see. And if this was the first chapter of that novel, then I bet it would be great.