Tag: The New Yorker

  • Short Story Review: “Nondisclosure Agreement” by Said Sayrafiezadeh

    (The short story “Nondisclosure Agreement” by Said Sayrafiezadeh appeared in the May 9th, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (I see dead people and SPOILERS ahead!)

    (Note: This review was updated on 5/8/22)

    I don’t like being a grownup; it sucks. I’m not saying that I want to be a kid, because that also sucked. What I am saying is that adulthood is not all that it’s cracked up to be. The narrator in Said Sayrafiezadeh’s story “Nondisclosure Agreement” seems to be discovering this as well.

    The narrator is a relatively recent grad school graduate in literature, who misses being in school, and has been finding dissatisfaction in post grad school life by meandering through a string a meaningless low paying service jobs. That is until he lands a position doing data entry at a mail-order catalog company. From the get-go, the story lets you know that this job does not work out, though the narrator is offered double the salary than he was expecting. The narrator enjoys his large paycheck, and gets a larger apartment, a new car, and better clothes. Then one day the narrator and his boss have a moment where they discover that they both have a love of poetry and literature. Turns out the boss originaly wanted to publish a lit journal, but his bankrolling parents wouldn’t allow it, so the boss was forced to create the mail-order catalog company. The narrator suggests to his boss that he should read his work, including his grad thesis. The boss loves the work and decides to publish them, which starts a process of editing and reediting with no end in sight, as the boss keeps moving the publication date off further and further into the future.

    I started off liking this story, and then I just became confused by it. The story felt like it couldn’t decide what style or form it should take, like it was at odds with itself. From the beginning, the story seems rooted in realism. Yet, these slightly Kafka-esk elements are dropped in, like how the narrator is the only full-time employee, doing data entry for a company in a dying industry, the never-ending edits, the delaying of publication, and how money just comes out of nowhere.

    Then there is the narrator. For the hero of the story, he does nothing heroic. He just puts up with everything. The character is shallow, selfish, and gullible when someone shows the slightest interest in his work. I don’t think those are disqualifying traits to have for the main character, but the character still has to confront something, or at least make a choice. Unfortunately, the narrator makes no choices, which leaves the story feeling unfulfilled.

    Which brings me to my final point, as this story executes a trick that I have been seeing in several other short stories of late; the foreshadowing of a climax that never materializes. (I’m sure there is a succinct one-word term for this that I am not aware of, most likely in German.) It works like this; the story tells us from the beginning how it will end, then the reader is reminded two more times in the story how it will end. When the ending of the story arrives (and it’s an ending not a climax) it’s not the ending that was foreshadowed, but a different one, but it should lead to the foreshadowed ending. It’s a literary bait and switch, as in the climax doesn’t happen in the story, but sometime after the story ends. We are told there will be a lawsuit between the boss and the narrator, and we are also told the boss is crazy. The lawsuit is meant to function as the climax, and the craziness of the boss, which is his inability to publish the journal, is never given any evidence as to why he would behave this way. Yet, the story is being presented in such a manner that the reader needs to accept these two criteria for the story to reach its conclusion. Sadly, this trick doesn’t work.

    What we are presented with is a story and a narrator who straddling between the two worlds of child and adulthood. Both worlds may suck, but inevitably, you have to make a choice to live in one. Maybe that was the point of “Nondisclosure Agreement,” but it’s not clear, because no one made a decision.

    (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: “The Repugnant Conclusion” by Elif Batuman

    (The short story “The Repugnant Conclusion” by Elif Batuman appeared in the April 25th & May 2nd issue of The New Yorker.)

    Kierkegaard!

    It’s just fun to say it! Kierkegaard!

    I know he was Danish, but I like to say his name in a heavy German accent, like I’m acknowledging a rival has bested me.

    Kierkegaard!

    Personally, I like any short story that openly tackles anything philosophical. (Bonus points if you mention KIERKEGAARD!) “The Repugnant Conclusion,” by Elif Batuman, is such a story. The piece revolves around three friends who are sophomores at Harvard; Selin (the narrator), Svetlana, and Lakshmi. Summer vacation is over and they are all returning back to school, and they do what college kids do; they study, they talk, they think about sex, they have sex, they think about life in and out of school, and try to take what they are learning and use it, or at least discuss it. But they are not the old “normal” Ivy League college kids. They are Turkish, Russian and Indian respectively. It is a factor in their experience at college, and how they will go forth in the world when they leave. They are aware also of their Americanness, as well. All factors that weigh on them.

    I enjoyed how this story introduced me to characters I had not experienced before, and I also enjoyed how they reminded me of my college experience with my friends. I found the story truthful in the perspectives each character had. Nothing seemed forced or put on. Yet, I knew full well that each character was staking a different philosophical position in a narrative structure. (Kierkegaard!) It’s a trick, and one that if played wrong could come across as heavy handed and shallow. I thought Batuman hit the right note. Maybe these characters will be like this for the rest of their lives, maybe it’s a phase, maybe they will evolve into something else. Maybe it’s just sophomore year.

    And maybe it’s just life.

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

  • ODDS and ENDS: Museum of Natural History, Alice Walker’s Journals, Dallas Mavericks, and Jazz Samba

    (Stay Fresh, Cheese Bags!)

    It’s Earth Day! AND the kid is on Spring Break! So, we’re going to the Museum of Natural History today! This is low hanging fruit when it comes to doing something with the kid that she will enjoy for several hours. For most of my friends with kids, the zoo is their “go-to” place to occupy some time, but my kid never has really enjoyed going to a zoo. Now, a petting zoo, or looking at baby animals, she will go crazy over that. But your normal, run of the mill zoo; nope, my daughter ain’t having it. What she wants is a display case with rocks in it. Maybe a diorama from the 1920’s. Give us a squid and a whale!

    Yesterday, I read a piece in The New Yorker about a book of Alice Walker’s journals. I was interested because I think Walker is a great writer who I look up to, and being that I journal, I am curious what her journals are like. Two things I took away from the article are that Walker at one point thought she should smoke “less weed,” and her preoccupation with money. I admit that I haven’t read this book and am only going off what was in the article, but these two points, weed and money, humanized Alice Walker for me, and made me respect her more. The weed statement means that she feels like she should be getting high less, and doing other things, and I infer that means writing. Even someone like Alice Walker thinks she should be working harder. And there is money. It’s not surprising that Walker was thinking about money issues before she was “ALICE WALKER” and was just another writer trying to make it. Yet, to see it in her journals just proves that finances were taking up a large part of her thought process, and needed to be expressed. Yes, she was trying out new ideas that would become great stories, but she was also trying to figure out how to pay rent and eat.

    I have been enjoying watching the Dallas Mavericks vs the Utah Jazz in the NBA Playoffs. Especially, I have enjoyed the Dallas bench playing some clutch basketball.

    Today’s album that I am listening to is “Jazz Samba” by Stan Getz and Charlie Byrd.

  • Short Story Review: “Just a Little Fever” by Sheila Heti

    (The short story “Just a Little Fever” by Sheila Heti appeared in the April 18th, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    How’s that line go? “Youth is wasted on the young.” I’m sure when George Bernard Shaw said it in his Irish accent, it sound sounded profound, and very witty. I know it was meant as an insult to young people, and just about every time I have heard it said, especially toward me, it has been used as a shorthand to say that I am acting irrationally and stupid. But as I have gotten older, I find the line has more regret and melancholy in it, not toward the young, but for the older person saying it.

    “Just a Little Fever” by Sheila Heti is a sweet, and charming story that grabbed me from the beginning. We meet Angela, who is youthful, and shampooing cherries into her hair, not because it was suggested to her by a friend or an article, but just because she thought of it, and wanted to try it. With her hair smelling of cherries, so goes to work as a bank teller and meets the well-dressed but older gentleman Thomas, who comes up to her window. They have a short but honest conversation, and Angela finds herself still thinking about Thomas. Angela decides to look up Thomas’ phone number from his account, and asks him out to dinner. After a little first date awkwardness, they continue to see each other, and enter into a relationship. Clearly, more happens, but I don’t want to spoil it.

    Like I said, I found myself enjoying the story from the start, but what really endeared me to it was how Heti kept layering, or maybe reveling is the better word, the deep truths and inner workings to Angela’s character. It resonated with me how Angela viewed being around people her own age, and how Thomas made her feel calm, and in the moment. How Angela had to question and test her feelings with Thomas, and how she began to see that people in her life might not be the healthiest people for her. I don’t think Heti ever overtly said that Angela was happy with Thomas, but there was that feeling coming out of the text, indescribable but apparent. When the final section started, leading to the climax and resolution, I dreaded reading it, because, not that I knew what was coming, but because what was coming was authentic to who Angela was.

    Yes, the ending frustrated me, but in the very best possible way. I found myself caring, very strongly, for these two characters. And though my experience was not exactly the same as Angela and Thomas, but I had a moment with someone once, where I was very happy to be in the middle with them. But, I too was young, and wasted my youth.

  • Short Story Review: “The Pub with No Beer” by Kevin Barry

    (The short story, “The Pub with No Beer” by Kevin Barry, appeared in the April 11th, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    There is a lot of regret in literature, you know? Memories and ghosts from the past speaking to characters in the present. I mean, I get it. It’s what we all do with our lives. We think about the past, and wonder if we made the right decisions, or we just allow ourselves to bathe in the melancholy memories of a day dream. But we have to watch out, and not allow ourselves to wallow in the past.

    Unfortunately, “The Pub with No Beer” has a bit of the wallow to it. Though the language and skill of writing that Kevin Barry has is impressive, the story never really gains any traction, nor gets beyond well worn stereotypes. The owner of an Irish pub, which is situated along the coast arrives at his, due to Covid, closed pub and cleans the place up. As he does this, he has memories of people who used to frequent the place, along with a caller at the door, concluding with a memory of the owners father. To be blunt, nothing happens. I feel like the intention was that each memory, and act of cleaning the pub, was building to something. Yet the execution of that intention manifested in a protagonist starting the story and ending the story in the same emotional spot. Nothing was gained, through action or insight, thus making the story feel like it was just passing time.

    Stories of this ilk do irk me; these “character study/nothing happens” short stories just confound me. I think this does get into the realm of lit theory, which is that for a story, any type of story, to be successful or even satisfying, either the protagonist or the reader has to gain insight, or a realization, or accomplish something, which was impeded by either an external or internal force. Even stories based in naturalism and realism still need a plot and a climax. Something has to happen. That’s what makes it a story.