Even though I nearly always follow Mavis Gallant’s advice about reading short stories (in short, don’t rush), something about the way I’m reading stories this year has changed.

Or something about the rest of my reading has changed. Choosing more responsively has made my stack more unruly than usual. And some of the collections have a lot lot lot of shorter stories in them, which is also different.

Even though I have more story collections in my stack than usual, and though it feels as though I am reading from them every day, I haven’t been finishing many collections. So while I complete the spring quarterly, I thought I would share some of the single stories I’ve been reading.

All of these stories circle around the parent-child relationship, or guide/student relationship as in Heti’s scenario (with room to debate which fills which role). That was accidental, because I simply pulled six magazines randomly from the “neglected stack” but it felt predetermined. Five were from The New Yorker and one from The Walrus. (I tried to arrange five of them in such a way that, if you like, you could try to guess which is which, but the image editor is refusing to cooperate–apparently longing to keep all the fun to itself.)

My favourite all ‘round was Yoko Ogawa’s “Beauty Contest” (from the November 27, 2023 TNY issue) because it gave language and story, character and an element of surprise—in all the exact proportions which I was craving in that moment. In the opening paragraph, a velvet jewellery box makes a sound like a kitten yawning when it’s opened, and on the next page a hair oil smells like the beetles she collected for a school assignment one summer. Translated by Stephen Snyder.

Sheila Heti’s “According to Alice” (from the November 20, 2023 TNY issue) which is a construction based on the author’s communication with a customisable chatbot, over several months, the answers “threaded together” and edited for flow. (Discussed here.) It raises interesting questions about creativity and inheritance, about individuality and collective learning. Although at times I’ve enjoyed Heti’s curiosity, particularly her phrasing of questions and incorporation of answers from the world around her, I was craving more story than ideas that afternoon. (Here’s an interview which also discusses this work, via Lithub.)

Shuang Xuetao’s “Heart” (from the October 9, 2023 TNY issue) begins with a concrete scene but it takes a surprising turn as events unfold. This is one of those instances in which a single story from TNY made me go hunting for everything I could find by the author. (Which is a collection of three novellas, and a blurb that compares him to Murakami: Rouge Street.) But not because I liked it, simply because it was so unsettling and strange and, yet, relatble somehow. Translated by Jeremy Tiang. (Interview with author here.)

A more natural fit for my usual reading taste would be Sarah Braunstein’s “Abject Naturalism” (from the July 29, 2024 TNY issue) which is a realistic story about an older man who’s putting a telescope to the curb when a young girl passes. He says that she could make it work by ordering an inexpensive part online. She uses her mother’s credit card to order it ($4.99) online. Simple, eh? But no. It that leads to seemingly endless questions and suspicion, scrutinising how we trust and connect (and don’t). (Q&A here.)

Roddy Doyle’s “The Buggy” (from the June 24, 2024 issue) left me strangely unmoved on a first reading. When I returned to it for this post, I reread it, to see if I could locate where my interest flagged. It’s only three pages long (something you’d think I would’ve noticed) so I simply reread it and marvelled at its capacity to refer to such a complex backstory in just a few paragraphs and to create such a simple but effective resolution. I wonder how I missed it the first time.

Claire Cameron’s “Jude the Brave” (from the December 2023 issue of The Walrus” is probably the story that will stick with me, although I didn’t choose it as my favourite because there isn’t a lot of scope to play with the language and structure. Her syntax is simple, almost clinical, in an effort to avoid sentimentality because the theme (the death of a child) is so emotive on its own, and readers know where things are headed from the start. It’s about five pages long, and that’s how quickly she made me cry.

What else have you read by these authors? And what magazines have you been reading lately?