Tag: The New Yorker

  • Short Story Review: “One Sun Only” by Camille Bordas

    (The short story “One Sun Only,” by Camille Bordas appeared in the March 7th, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Having kids is easy, raising kids is hard. And on some days, you screw everything up, and it really sucks. Every time we make a mistake as parents, which is often, the wife and I kid each other that whatever the transgression we just inflicted on our daughter, that it will be the reason she goes into therapy. My mother would joke/not-joke that when I was in therapy, she was getting blamed for everything. Not everything, I would tell her, Dad made a lot of mistakes, too. Kidding each other was a big part of our relationship, and so was making lots of mistakes.

    I identified with “One Sun Only,” by Camille Bordas. It was a story about a middle-aged guy, trying to make it as a writer, dealing with the death of a parent, raising his kids while also making sure his children were coping with the death of their grandparent in a healthy way. (Holy Crap! It’s like this story was written for me!) But also, the story was about the relationship that the grandfather has with his son, and his grandchildren. The grandfather was a famous painter, and art played a big role in his dealings with his family. Of the two grandchildren, the older one, Sally, had the same artistic interest as her grandfather, and thus he showed her the most attention. Though the younger grandchild, Ernest, had the artistic skill, he was not interested in the form, which caused a distance between grandfather and grandson.

    Essentially, this was a story about death, and how different people deal/handle/cope with it. There was another death in the story, a school janitor who had a heart attack and dropped dead in front of Ernest and his classmates in the cafeteria at school, so the theme of the story was driven home pretty hard here. The most authentic parts of this story were the interactions between Ernest and his father, the narrator, especially when Ernest was drawing at the kitchen table toward the end. My only objection to the story was that the children point out how sad their father was, but I never felt the “sadness” was identified, given an example, or even addressed. It was just pointed out, and left at that. See, that stuck in the back of my mind as a red flag. Sally was given ample time to show how she was dealing with the grandfather’s death, and the climax of the story was clearly about Ernest ability to cope, but nothing for the father. The father was seen taking advantage of the money he had inherited, as he had bought a new apartment, and was taking a year off from work to write, but not how he was emotionally handling all of this. I do know that when a trauma occurs, some people make immediate changes in hopes of dealing with the emotions, which I felt was what Bordas was hinting at with the father, but he seemed to be enjoying these changes even though his children said he was “sad.” It’s like one puzzle piece was missing that would have tied all three together in their mourning.

    Also, this was a story about parenting; Both the good and the bad. Pushing your kids, and nurturing them. Tough love and understanding. The grandfather and father were not saints, and their parenting styles were opposite, but not completely wrong. For all the faults of the grandfather, he was using his skill set to raise his son the best he could. And his son was doing the same thing with his children. The story did leave me feeling hopeful for these characters. That they would get to the other side of this, in their own way.

  • Short Story Review: “So Late in the Day,” by Claire Keegan

    (The short story “So Late in the Day,” by Claire Keegan appeared in the February 28th, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (And there are SPOILERS!)

    Character study, as a short story format, is one of those “classic” forms that’s taught in school; an analysis or portrayal in literature of the traits of character of an individual – so says Merriam-Webster. I find this form is used in the absence of a plot, as the “climax” of these stories usually is when the reader discovers the reason why the character behaves the way they did in the story.

    That’s what “So Late in the Day” basically is. We meet Cathal at his desk on July 29th, which is a wonderfully perfect weather day. He clearly is avoiding people, and even his boss suggest that he head home early, but Cathal prefers to finish out his day, per normal. After work he takes a bus home, and then the story starts to unfold his romance with Sabine. As this relationship is shared with us, we begin to see the faults in his character. When they decide to get married, and Sabine moves in with Cathal, we see his misogyny on display, which is also registered by Sabine. Then the reveal comes, and it turns out that July 29th was to have been their wedding day, which now has clearly been called off.

    Keegan’s writing is fine, and engaging. I found the character believable, and could see why they were attracted to each other, but the story still left me with the feeling that something was missing. I felt like the story wasn’t clear on what its intentions were for the reader. As a character study, it fit the mold – dude’s a misogynist, hence why his girl leaves. But, what are we supposed to feel about that? I don’t think the intention was to feel sorry for Cathal. He is upset with the situation he is in, but I don’t think he learned his lesson, which implies that this behavior will repeat. That’s unsatisfying. But, with Cathal being the focus, I feel that the intention was that Cathal should understand his responsibility in creating the situation that he is in, but I didn’t find that through line in the story. What I found was that Cathal wasn’t a good guy, but he wasn’t a bad one either. It was ambiguity, and that’s a tough one to end on for a character study.

    (Say, don’t forget to like this post, or share it, or leave a comment. I got bills to pay, you know.)

  • Short Story Review: “Annunciation” by Lauren Groff

    (The short Story “Annunciation,” by Lauren Groff appeared in the February 14th & 21st, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    First of all, I am not related to Lauren Groff. Second, this is the first short story by her that I have read. And it was a good one to start with. From the first paragraph, I felt like I was on a journey, and was being guided by a person who knew how to unfold a story. If you haven’t pieced it together, I liked this story, and I am suggesting that you should read it. For that reason, I will forgo a synopsis of the piece, and give my reflections on it.

    Lauren Groff crafted a well-made short story. As it unfolded, I didn’t know where I was being taken, but after I finished, I could see the structure that held the story up. The opening, narrator development, introduction of characters, seemingly random incidents, rising action, climax, resolution, and even a denouement, which not too long ago I was complaining about the use of denouement in short stories. I mean, the title tied in to the denouement, as well. But the structure wasn’t the only admirable quality of the story.

    What I loved reading was about this narrator who was not perfect, who did struggle, and was still struggling. A person who had these moments, anecdotes even, that represented the life she led, and she still found herself thinking of these people, and the mysteries that never will be solved. And, this was a personal favorite of mine, the narrator was literary person without being a writer character. I fully believed that she was introspective, empathetic, and aware of the small details of the world she inhabited.

    But it was the theme, the through line, of motherhood that ran through the story that impressed me. Though I didn’t catch it as I was reading it, the denouement captured, and focused the theme for me. It made me reevaluate each of the women in the story, their form of motherhood, and how they are viewed or appreciated by their children for what they do, or have done for them. This theme of motherhood didn’t fit neatly in a box, meaning that I didn’t feel the story was trying to say motherhood is “this way.” Mothers are all over the map; good, bad, wonderful, awful, secretive, open, all different and yet the same, somehow. And for some, motherhood takes a toll.

    That makes the story sound dark or overtly complex, but I found myself optimistic, and hopeful at the end of the story. Lauren Groff created a journey in this story, so we all came out on the other side different from this experience. I liked the world that this story is in, and the characters who inhabit it. Stories like this leave me feeling inspired; that short stories can express truths, and have weight. That they are worth reading and creating.

  • Short Story Review: “Once Removed” by Alexander MacLeod

    (The short story “Once Removed,” by Alexander MacLeod appeared in the February 7th, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Sometimes I think that half of life is just dealing with family. And when you get married, or have a partner, you adopt their family, and that takes up more time. I do think three quarters of all fiction is about dealing with families; the trauma, hypocrisy, illogic, and old feuds. Families know how to push buttons, and get you to agree to things that you would never agree to if it came from anyone else. And families somehow can make us take on roles and personas that we thought we had gotten past and stopped playing. Ah, the never ending well of drama that families can produce. And, don’t forget about minor annoyances. Families are really good at that, too.

    “Once Removed,” by Alexander MacLeod, is a minor annoyance family story. There is a thin, under the surface family issue that is hinted at, but it is not fully engaged. The story is about a Montreal couple who isn’t married, Matt and Amy, and their four-month old daughter Ella, going to visit Matt’s very distant relative, Greet. I will not explain how Greet is related to Matt as it is one of the ongoing jokes in the story, and this is a cute, funny piece. The perspective is from Amy’s point of view, and she is suspicious as to why they are being asked to a Sunday afternoon dinner; it couldn’t be as simple as Greet wanting to see the new baby, right? Lunch happens, a favor is asked, a neighbor is visited, maybe a heist happens, and Greet’s guest room is explored. The story hints that Greet has been banished from Matt’s Nova Scotia family, though never explained why, which also brings about an understanding between Greet and Amy, as Amy has never felt at place with that side of the family either.

    “Once Removed” is an enjoyable work, humors, and light in tone, and that is not meant to be derogatory. And then the story has a denouement, which I questioned. (I am aware that “denouement” may not be the correct literary term, but MacLeod isn’t the first short story writer to use this technique, or trick, and I am not sure what is a better term to use.) The climax of the story comes, and then Amy has this vision of the future involving Ella and telling her this story, of the Greet visit. The tone of writing even changes, going from realistic to more of an abstract feel, as if we are wrapping up what all of this meant. Like I said, MacLeod isn’t the first short story writer to do this, but I question the modern usage of it in a short story. I feel that a denouement is needed for longer work such as a novel, as there are many tangents that need to be brought together after the climax to bring about resolution. In a short story, enough time hasn’t been given for these tangents to be created, so a denouement feels like an add on, a trick to signal conclusion, rather than truly functioning as a conclusion to the story. I wouldn’t say it took away from the story, which I enjoyed, but made me wonder if this technique is really needed anymore.

  • Short Story Review: “Long Distance,” by Aysegul Savas

    (The short story “Long Distance,” by Aysegul Savas, appeared in the January 31st, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Sometimes it’s nice to read a love story. And sometimes it’s also nice to read a love story about “relationships where you get jerked around,” to quote the Fortune Teller from The Simpsons. When it came to Aysegul Savas’ story “Long Distance,” it’s a love story about two people who try not to jerk each other around, but might be jerking each other around.

    This was a story that seemed like it could have been published in Collier’s back in the 50’s, as it sort of had the casualness of a Post-War world where American’s came and went in Europe, like visiting a farm upstate – free of the burdens the rest of the world is dealing with. The story is basically about Lea, a student doing a semester of research in Rome, and her male gentleman friend (I don’t think he is ever referred to as a boyfriend) Leo, coming to visit her from California. Their relationship is new, starting just before she left for Rome, and has consisted of phone calls and emails. There is a large anticipation on Lea’s part, and when Leo arrives, the two never seems to line up their intentions, especially when it comes to a story about an elderly woman Leo met on his flight to Rome.

    I am a fan of the short story with subtle and small events that have impactful ramifications to character’s lives, even to the point where the reader understands the importance though the characters may not. That’s what I think this story was aiming for, and I feel it succeeded at that goal. I understood Lea’s high expectations for Leo’s visit, and how when each miscommunication occurs, she feels more insecure that the trip will be a failure. The story is from her point of view, as she is the only character we get internal thoughts from, so we have to take Leo’s words and actions, and figure out what is his truth. I like that Savas structured his story in that way, as it doesn’t make Leo’s true intentions the focus, but rather Lea’s decision on what she thinks is Leo’s true intention are. For that reason, I feel the story stuck its landing.