On the second-last page of A Swim in a Pond in the Rain, George Saunders explains that writing the book turned out to be a chance to ask himself “again” and “at length” this question:

“Do you still want to devote your life to fiction?” Spoiler: he does.

He’s asking this as a writer, and I suspect that most people who choose to read this book are writers (mostly because of the subtitle).

But one could also ask this question as a reader.

A reader who either already has an affinity for short stories, but wants to understand where that appreciation is rooted.

Or a reader who does not have an affinity for the short form, but has a general curiosity about how some writers approach, construct, and shape narratives.

Or a reader who simply wants to understand more about the relationship between a reader and a story: what pushes us apart, what pulls us together again.

There is a tremendous amount of detail, as Saunders studies seven short stories. For the first story, he prints one page of the story alongside another page (or more) with his notes and observations about that page. After awhile, he switches to two pages of the story, because his reflections are meticulous, and he recognises that it’s a lot to absorb. (He wants to pull us back into the process, keep us engaged.)

Bill @The Australian Legend has intended to read this for some time, which aligned with my intention to return to it as well (I borrowed it from the library but left it unfinished), so we are going to read it this year. We’re thinking one story each month, with an announcement post around the 1st which we’ll update around the 15th to include discussion. For this month, we’ll have two distinct posts: on Saturday February 15th, we’ll chat about Chekhov.

Saunders’ tone is energetic and robust, and his sly, sorta-sideways-glance makes me smile sometimes. Little touches like “let’s face it” and “yes, wow” make it feel chatty. There’s a space for uncertainty: “Who knows why?” so that we can feel the shrug where different interpretations can live. But, even so, there’s something intimidating about this book for me, so I’m happy to have company while moving through it.

If you’d like to join by reading along with us—the short stories or Saunders’ commentary or both, or even just one story that coincides with other reading you’re already planning for this year—these are the stories:

Anton Chekhov “In the Cart” (February)
Ivan Turgenev “The Singers” (March)
Anton Chekhov “The Darling” (April)
Leo Tolstoy “Master and Man” (May)
Nikolai Gogol “The Nose” (June)
Anton Chekhov “Gooseberries” (July)
Leo Tolstoy “Alyosha the Pot” (August)