Tag: Short Story Writer

  • Short Story Review: “The Narrow Way” by Liliana Colanzi (Translated from Spanish by Chris Andrews.)

    (The short story “The Narrow Way” by Liliana Colanzi appeared in the September 25th, 2023 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (Do I even need to say SPOILERS?)

    Photograph by William Mebane for The New Yorker

    Liliana Colanzi pretty much nails it in the first four paragraphs of her story “The Narrow Way.” We come to understand that the Devil is real to these characters, that the Reverend holds power over this community, that the protagonist and her sister have an uncomfortable close relationship, and if you leave this community then you leave for good. Everything that follows in this engrossing story relates back to these four paragraphs, thus creating a structure for this world to exist in, leaving us to see how these characters function in it. This set up, which is what it is, was handled so subtly and with a lite touch, that jaded me didn’t pick up on it until I reached the end of the story.

    There were many aspects that I enjoyed in this piece, but I really want to look at the format/structure that Colanzi used to accomplish her story. First was making the reader slightly uncomfortable with the sisters game of “cows and calves” in the third paragraph – somethings not right with these people as they don’t seem innocent, but ignorant to the changes that are happening to them. Clearly the children of the colony are maturing into puberty, but without any guidance due to the “narrow way” that their religion demands, they go blindly forward, stumbling into these changes. And then with the fourth paragraph, we know that this “colony” is a place of repression and control. Everything that follows next in the story is filtered through these two notions, making the rest of the narrative always feel uneasy, and with a threat of violence. As the story unfolds with each new section, this ignorance and violence continue to be heightened, building to the climax.

    And if one criticism must be laid on this story, it is the climax. When I was first reading the story, I was caught up with the narrative, the language, tone, mood, all of it, so the climax felt correct. When I thought back on the story, it became clear that there were only really two outcomes for this story; escape, or death. The idea that this colony would be destroyed or overthrown by its residents is never entertained by any of its characters, so it never was a narrative option to begin with. I understand that escape and death were foreshadowed by Colanzi from the relative start of the story, but… When you tell a story about repression, isn’t the release into freedom, either through escaping or death, the only stratifying options on the table?

    That having been said, “The Narrow Way” is a very good story – built well, written well, and encompassing a very specific world. This is not a place I want to live, as it’s a repressive and disquieting environment. Yet, there is a very honest humanity in this story that is compelling, and makes one yearn for people to be free.

  • Short Story Review: “On the Agenda” by Lore Segal

    (The short story “On the Agenda” by Lore Segal appeared in the September 18th, 2023 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Riccardo Vecchio

    “On the Agenda” by Lore Segal is an interesting exercise. I read it twice, enjoyed it both times, but I’m still wondering about the ending. Each time I read it, and I can’t put my finger on why, or where the example is in the story, but I kept thinking about French Absurdist one-act theatre. (I was a theatre major, I read a lot of their works.) Something about this story seemed to parallel that. This story isn’t blatantly absurdist. It does have a foot in reality, but there is something off, which works.

    The story is about ladies who lunch, but not the Sondheim “ladies.” The story of these ladies is broken up into sections; the first being “JANUARY: THE FORGETTING OLYMPICS,” which also happens to be an agenda item for the meeting of the ladies. What if forgetting was an Olympic sport? And the ladies give examples of their forgetting, comparing, and expanding this idea. At this point, the story could be about aging. But with the next section “MARCH: NEXT TO GODLINESS” and “JUNE: FUNK” we are given examples of the ladies friendship, and how they are dealing with their forgetting. And again, it all feels purposefully off center, ever so slightly. But when the final section comes along, “NOVEMBER: NO MORE TRAINS” which is broken up into three sections, with the last being the one I questioned the most – It’s a single paragraph with no dialogue, which is different and shorter than all other sections of the whole story. This paragraph thuds the story to a close, help with a rhetorical last question “For now?”

    From the way the story started with that absurdist feeling I had while reading, I never was expecting this to be a story that would wrap up cleanly, or even conclusively for that matter.  But that last paragraph is completely and radically different from the rest of the story – what was the point? Then I remembered the French Absurdists, who sometimes made the point of not having a point, and just ending things.

    Or it’s about death?

    I’m going with death.

  • Short Story Review: “Hobbies” by Robbie Herbst

    (The short story “Hobbies” by Robbie Herbst appeared in X-R-A-Y on August 30th.)

    (SPOILERS, people! SPOILERS!)

    Art by Bri Chapman

    There sure are a great number of short stories and novels that cover the subject matter of the male midlife crisis. Or, as a friend calls them, “Sorry your penis stopped working, stories.” In one way or another, midlife crisis stories are about virility; the lack of it, the fear of losing it, of losing it, or desperately keeping it. And it is an attractive cliché to work with, as it is soaked in drama due to impending change, and can lend itself to comedy or drama, or a little of both.

    “Hobbies” by Robbie Herbst is just a short story that could have taken a turn down the midlife crisis trope. In fact, I kept expecting that it would, but it didn’t, and that was a completely refreshing development. In fact, the whole story is told in this realist yet absurdist style; claiming to be neither, but clearly dabbling a toe in both. In this way, the story stays lite, but also rooted in an honesty.

    The protagonist is a man sliding into a transition. The story opens with a mysterious letter from a woman named Therese that the he does not know, and rather than share the letter with his wife, he burns it, thus keeping it a secret. As we learn more about him, we see that he is a good person, with two good kids, happily married, with a good job, living a good life. But that night he wakes up having no idea who he is, but slowly, the details of his being return to him. This moment starts his journey to see if he is missing something. This is the fear of losing virility. Or maybe relevance. Either way, the hero is in a place of security and yet feels incomplete.

    And what follows is the breaking of the midlife crisis cliché. Here, the marriage is still fine, the kids are okay, and the job is fine. Yet, there is a threat that looms over him and the family – something that has to be prepared for. It’s not identified, nor does it need to be, as it is a fear that takes the form of whatever it needs to be for each person. But our hero keeps making choices, figuring out what he needs to do to confront whatever is coming.

    This was a smart story, and also very funny. Herbst is very good at keeping the story moving, throwing in details, and never letting the narrative get bogged down. But most of all, “Hobbies” took what I thought would be cliched, and gave it a twist and an insight that I wasn’t expecting.

  • 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.

  • Short Story Review: “The True Margaret” by Karan Mahajan

    (The short story “The True Margaret” by Karan Mahajan appeared in the August 14th, 2023 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Photograph by Eliza Bourner for The New Yorker

    “The True Margaret” by Karan Mahajan, is an interesting short story, which ultimately is a well-crafted piece of fiction, yet I never found myself engrossed by it. The story has a great opening paragraph, which is compelling, but what follows is a deliberate plodding paced story that never rises in intensity, even as the climax approaches. As I finished the story, I liked it, but I was left feeling unsatisfied. I will say this; I do recommend reading this story.

    All the pieces are here for an effective short story. It is set in the past of 1959 London. An arranged marriage, an Indian bride brought 5,000 miles from her home. The adjustment to a new city and culture. The shadow of colonialism, patriarchy, class, and sexism. Questions about the idea of freedom being a reality or an illusion. How threats grow larger and more diabolical in our minds as we dwell on them. The duality of one’s nature. The courage to escape one’s situation, and a resolution that delivers our protagonist to a safer place, but not a rewarding place. There is a lot going on here, and it is all brought up in a natural way, never feeling forced.

    And still, I couldn’t shake the feeling of not being satisfied with the ending. Finally, I had to come to the conclusion that this ending was the point. That the plodding pace was there to help illustrate this point. Doing the right thing, breaking the mold, saving yourself doesn’t mean you get the happy ending – it only means you survived to live another day. And even if you get years beyond that incident, to where it doesn’t necessarily feel real anymore, it sometime can never be forgotten, or forgiven.