Tag: The New Yorker

  • 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: “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.

  • Short Story Review: “Yogurt Days” by Jamie Quatro

    (The short story “Yogurt Days” by Jamie Quatro appeared in the August 7th, 2023 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (SPOILERS! Though I think you know that, and I should stop announcing it now…)

    Illustration by Alex Merto;

    Source photograph by Bonnie Taylor Barry / Shutterstock

    Ah… religion and faith, and rules and guidelines, and patriarchy and pragmatism. This all has to do with Christianity and not religion in general. Christianity does get a bad rap in most fiction – used mainly to highlight the hypocrisy in human nature. Every now and then we get a work of fiction that is nuanced toward its representation of Christianity in the world around us. That’s what I felt reading “Yogurt Days” by Jamie Quatro – a story that is strong on theme, ideas, and structure. While the prose is adequate for the piece, Quatro strength is in taking all the tricks that are taught in writing classes, and uses them effectively to accomplish her goal of delivery a solid story that is honest, and even a tad melancholic.

    This is a story about faith, and the actions behind faith, and those motivations. The story is about the narrator’s mother who has more faith than sense, and is blessed with an affluent lifestyle which allows her to survive with that disposition. This mother isn’t a bad person at all, and the narrator, even as a child, is aware of that. The story jumps from the past to the present, and how the past situation is still influencing the narrator in the present.

    I said writing tricks because that’s what they are, but it works. The opening sentence is a textbook in making the reader want to find out more. The first paragraph previews the theme of the story. An early example of the mother’s faith is given to show why she behaves the way she does. There is the breaking up of, what could have been, a simple linear story through time jumps, in essence to create more drama, but also pad out the story. I’m not saying this to be mean, or to imply this is a “color-by-number” story, but to say that Quatro’s structure is easy to follow, and allows us to know that this story is going to land.

    But what Quatro does very well, and I think it is a strength of the story, is that by using this standard structure, it gives the story freedom to flow and bring life to little truths about faith, or the illusion of faith, and how faith can even infect the unfaithful. And best of all, in the middle of this story, the daughter (narrator) forgives the mother for her past transgressions. I think most writers would have made this the climax of the story, but I appreciated that this type of cliché was avoided. Instead, by putting the forgiveness in the middle, what we received was a better understanding of how faith had influenced the narrator’s life, along with a better understanding of the relationship between mother and daughter.

  • Short Story Review: “A French Doll” By Cynthia Ozick

    (The short story “A French Doll” By Cynthia Ozick appeared in the July 31st, 2023 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (SPOILERS! There will always be SPOILERS!)

    Photo illustration by Joan Wong; Source photographs from Getty; NYPL

    And then sometimes, The New Yorker just publishes a good story. Why beat around the bush here; “A French Doll” by Cynthia Ozick is a very good story. A shorter piece by New Yorker standards, but not flash fiction as the story is at 3,300+ words. Yet, I did find a flash fiction ethos within this story – it didn’t rely on a hero cycle, or a plotless character study, nor was this the tried and true beginning/middle/end with a rise in action. No, this was a story that played with language, mood, atmosphere, and an inevitable lesson that is reinforced in the actions taken by the characters. Since plot and development weren’t necessary, that’s why I say it’s more flash than traditional short fiction.

    There are so many points that I could ding as examples of why Ozick’s story works so beautifully well, but I fear I could get mired down in unending details. The opening section serves many purposes of creating the mood, theme, and setting for the piece. I loved how the narrator, as a child talking to the elderly neighbor, would lie about not being able to help the old woman, but in the end would still do the requested tasks – just like a kid would do. I loved how the bookending of the elderly couples passing was used to reinforce the theme of the inevitability of passing away, and wanting to leave something, even the most basic truths, for someone to acknowledge later. And then the use of the doll, telegraphed to us with the title, but still manages to delicately make the point of life and art.

    And yet, with all of that said, the best part of this story was the language used by Ozick. The words that were crafted, how they painted and played with creating a picture and a world that this story took place in. This language made me slow down, savor what I was reading. Not only was this world given vibrant life within the words, it also created a rhythm – like a dance – for descriptions to unfold. My favorite example being, “The sublime defiled, the sacred embedded in a thing of vanity, ridiculed, pirated, usurped, stolen. A felony, a wickedness, a sin.” This is a writer that enjoyed making words pirouette, tumble, and slide off the page.

    I have told you nothing about the story, and that was on purpose. Cynthia Ozick created something very unique “A French Doll” and you should read it. Let the surprises and turns hit you like they did me. Because this isn’t a plot story – this is about mood and understanding. You just need to read it.