Tag: #TheNewYorker

  • The Act of Journaling

    I read an article in this week’s New Yorker, entitled “The Paper Tomb,” about the journals of Claude Fredericks. Who, you ask? In fact, the article starts off the same way. Unless you went to Bennington College, or are a deep dive fan of the novel, “The Secret History,” odds are you are like me, and this would be the first time his name has shown up in your life. What makes Claude Fredericks interesting, at least in this article, is that he spent an entire lifetime journaling, and expected it to be published. Also, Fredricks was an early proponent, autofiction, though in his mind, he saw the journal as the vessel of this media, and not the novel.

    I read the article last night, and I have been thinking about it since. I do like the ambition of a longhaul documentation of one’s life, in the sense that it is a fascinating art project. It’s like Andy Warhol’s “Sleep,” five and a half hours of a guy sleeping. Sure, it’s an anti-film, but it also plays on the idea of documentation to the point where it is actually just witnessing life. Can you truly document an entire life? We all know the answer is no. You cannot witness someone else’s entire life, nor can you get every detail of life down on paper.

    But what is it then? I journal, and I know a great number of other people who journal as well. Hell, Gary Shandling was a prolific with his journals. Are we doing this for ourselves, or do we all intend to have someone read them one day? Isn’t this just a fancy literary way of talking to ourselves?

    I have completed 38 journals that are anywhere from 200 to 300 pages long each. I started when I was 18 and continue to this day. They are in a box in the office, and most days I don’t think about them. Then I complete a journal, and go to throw it into that box, and that’s when I ask myself, who is this really for?

  • Short Story Review: “Not Here You Don’t” by Thomas McGuane

    (The short story “Not Here You Don’t” by Thomas McGuane, was featured in the October 18th, 2021 issue of The New Yorker.)

    The American west is a strange place. I keep thinking that the histories, tragedies and pioneer attitudes of the late 19th century have faded away into our collective American past. Like in “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” where they contemplated that the “west” was over and the country was becoming modern. But the reality is that those western histories, tragedies and attitudes still affect people to this day.

    I had to read “Not Here You Don’t” by Thomas McGuane twice. Not that I didn’t understand it, but to verify that I hadn’t missed something. The story is compact, but not lacking in detail. The main character, Gary, is traveling to Montana to bury his father’s ashes on the homestead where his father grew up. Gary deals with the new land owner, and the people in the local town.

    This makes the story sound simple, and perhaps it is, but the story is also playing with the western architype hero, and the changing west. Gary is duty bound to follow his father’s wishes. Gary also displays an honesty of his father’s legacy; he was a good man, though not perfect. Gray knows his family history with the land, and also displays a knowledge that the new landowner lacks, showing that owning it does not make you master of your land. Gary has regrets over a failed love, and he also has feeling of being out of step when he returns home in the East.

    I found myself contemplating that even if we do roam and live far from home, how much of home stays with you? Are we instilled with attitudes from regions of this country that we never truly shake off? Do we identify with places that we really have the thinnest of connections to?

    Hence why I read it again.  Just making sure I got it.

  • Short Story Review: “The Ghost Birds” by Karen Russell

    (The short story “The Ghost Birds” by Karen Russell, was featured in the October 11th, 2021 issue of The New Yorker.)

    SPOILER ALERT! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! AND I RUN LONG ON THIS ONE!

    The New Yorker published science fiction! I was really excited about that fact when I started reading “The Ghost Birds” by Karen Russell. For all I know, TNY has been publishing sci-fi for a while, but this is the first time I saw that type of story published here. Science Fiction can be a tricky beast; it can be great for adventure and melodrama, and when done very well, can highlight the best of humanity.

    In “The Ghost Birds” we get a future world of global ecological collapse; Wildfires out of control, limited resources, toxic environment, and mass extinctions, especially of all the birds. The story is told by Jasper, who is in search of ghost birds in Oregon, where the story takes place. A violent group called the Surveillers controls these lands and the airspace, for which they kill trespassers. Jasper takes his teenage daughter, Starling, into the dangerous Oregon area to search for these birds

    Creating a complete universe in a short story is a difficult task. The author has to explain how this place works and the logic to this world, while also keeping the flow of the story natural, and not coming across as spoon-feeding, or plot clunky. Russell does this very well in the first two thirds of the story. This world is a desolate and unfriendly place, but also captivating in how people are finding ways to survive in it.

    When the climax of the story starts, the logic and cohesion of the story starts to falter. At this point I refer to what a professor in college taught, which is the Chekhov Maxim; If you introduce a gun in your story, you have to fire the gun. The Surveillers are that gun in this story. They are given enough examples of how dangerous they are, yet they never show up. The climax of the story is that Jasper and Starling get trapped in a furnace smoke stack, which Jasper tries to climb out of, but falls and breaks his leg. That leaves Starling to climb out, and get help from their friend’s airship, which lead me to ask why where the Surveillers introduced? The smoke stack scene is climatic enough, and the threat of the Surveillers plays no part in it. Also, Jasper couldn’t use communication devices because the Surveillers could hear, but somehow, they could get in and out using an airship, even though it is mentioned that the Surveillers patrol the sky. See, the logic started to fall apart. Then, I also had issue with Jasper not having a heroic act. He becomes injured, and witnesses the ghost birds, which makes him passive to the situation.

    I ended up feeling very conflicted about this story. I was really rooting for it, as I liked that this story was about ecological disaster, and that is an issue that I care greatly about. But this sore thumb stuck out at the end that I couldn’t shake or ignore.

    Good effort, just didn’t stick the landing.

  • Short Story Review: “Red Pyramid” by Vladimir Sorokin

    (The short story “Red Pyramid” by Vladimir Sorkin, was featured in the October 4th, 2021 issue of The New Yorker.)

    I don’t read work by Russian writes much anymore. I over did it in college as a theatre major. I read a ton of Chekhov, and studied Stanislavski’s writing, and just to be safe I read some Dostoevsky as well. And after I graduated, I never went back to it. I just stopped reading Russian writers. Nothing personal.

    And I know nothing about Vladimir Sorkin, other than he is Russian and he is a writer. Up until five minutes ago, I couldn’t tell you if he was still alive or not. (Thanks Wikipedia.) So, I knew nothing about what to expect from his story “Red Pyramid” which was in the October 4th issue of The New Yorker.

    I shall try to summarize this story: in 1960’s Soviet Union, guy gets on the wrong train while trying to get to a party, and has to get off that train and take another train. While waiting at a station in the middle of nowhere, with no one around, an old man appears. The guy and the old man talk. The old man is strange, and mentions a red pyramid in Red Square, but the guy knows there is no pyramid in Red Square. Train arrives, guy gets on, never sees the old man again, nor makes it to the party. Then the story shifts to the life the guy leads after that experience, and I’m not going to give it away.

    I’m leaving out a couple of bits, because when I got to the ending: My Goodness! I didn’t see it coming, but it wasn’t shocking either. It totally fit, and I cannot explain to you how it fits with the story… it just does. I have been thinking about this story for two days now. I don’t know what the red pyramid is, I know what literally is happen at the end of the story, but I don’t know how they fit together – They just do.

    It’s that big paragraph at the end. It’s a feat of wordsmithing, and its translated! This type of writing I am very envious of, to craft words that almost seem nonsensical, but are capturing a moment or feeling correctly to the authenticity of the story. Sorkin was making me say words that at first, I didn’t understand their relevance, but I knew I was being guided to a satisfying conclusion.

    Well done, sir, though I still don’t get what it means. And that’s the fun.

  • Personal Review: “Desire” by Esther Freud

    (The short story “Desire” by Esther Freud, was featured in the September 27th, 2021 issue of The New Yorker.)

    A long time ago, when I was in college, I would join writers’ groups, and share short stories, and get and give feedback. I went to three universities and a junior college, and every group behaved pretty much the same. At some point someone would bring in a story that was… well… odd. Not good nor bad, strange but familiar, off kilter but still normal. There was no way to put a finger on what it is, but it was normal. But also, not normal.

    That is what I felt while reading Esther Freud’s “Desire.” The story, set in Ireland, somewhere around 1976, and the Bob Dylan album of the same name plays a part of the story as well. In short, the story is about a family; Mum, older sister and middle sister from one relationship, and a younger brother from a current marriage, who have left this current husband. The narrator of the story is the middle sister, and she refers to the stepfather as someone who needs to be left, but no other information is given. The family moves from the mother’s parent’s home to two additional homes for a stay or holiday or escape, and then return back to England.

    And as I said earlier, something was off with this story. The story kept referring back to songs off the Dylan album, but I wasn’t sure what the connection to the story was. I wasn’t sure what the narrator felt about what was happening. The way this family moved from place to place, by hitchhiking, and lots of waiting, which made the story feel isolated and disconnected, but I couldn’t tell you what that had to do with anything. It was just events happening. The aging parents are upset with the life decisions the Mum has made, and then the family is back off to England, and I don’t know how these disparate things are meant to work thematically. I was left feeling that I had missed something. And I don’t think that was the point.