Murakami, Boyle, Oz, Babitz, Cather and Adjei-Brenyah
Short Stories in January, February and March
Whether in a dedicated collection or a magazine, these stories capture a variety of reading moods.
This quarter, I returned to two familiar writers and also explored four new-to-me story writers.
Beneath this striking cover by Pascal Campion for the January 14, 2019 issue of “The New Yorker” is the Amos Oz short story “All Rivers” (Trans. Philip Simpson).
It’s the story of Eliezer Dror, a twenty-eight-year-old native of the kibbutz Tel Tomer.
“Here we go again: I’m telling things out of order,” readers are warned. But it’s a busy story about girls and work on the kibbutz, about stamp collectors and smoke rings and flies, free agents and poets, raids and commendations, and a missing thumb.
A favourite quote:
“The story needs to move forward, but memory doesn’t move forward; it moves backward, from the end to the beginning, like a crab, like someone waking up from a nightmare and trying to remember what it was, and going back from the nightmare to the unimportant details that preceded it, to try to reconstruct how the dream began, and how it reached the point where fear woke him up.”
Another short story I enjoyed in a print magazine this quarter? Haruki Murakami’s “Cream” in the January 28, 2019 issue of The New Yorker (Trans. Philip Gabriel).
In many ways, the narrator is a typical Murakami character, a “bland, run-of-the-mill guy”, an eighteen-year-old between school sessions, who “found it a lot more enjoyable to read all of Balzac than to delve into the principles of calculus”.
Also typically, he is neither an immediately nor intensely likeable character. He keeps readers at a distance and the story is part piano recital and part philosophical metaphor.
The story feels circular, whether moving through a heartbeat or another kind of meaningful rhythm, all to “help you get to a point where you understand something that you didn’t understand at first”. (I’m not convinced I have.)
And, for the final single story, Shary Boyle’s short story and artwork “Finissage” in the March 2019 issue of “The Walrus”. If you were looking for a story which features the corpse of an orangutan and a ruined subway station, this story will satisfy that requirement for your reading challenge. It would also check the box for “[d]roughts, fires, hurricanes, the poisoned air, face mask, and food wars” in which the “old white mothers and fathers had perished”. For some readers, this might be a sharp and incisive critique. For others, this story of a “new generation who saw the founding project of Canada as a genocidal, gas-lighting, racist, capitalist, colonial, resource-extraction shit show” might feel more like an exercise than a revelation.
The first I heard of Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah’s Friday Black (2018) was on Andrew Blackman’s site (he also links to a revealing Vox interview) and his recommendation was echoed when I next listened to the New York Times Book Review podcast (I’m often behind in my listening, although my TBH list is not as out-of-control as my TBR list).
There’s a good reason why so many readers are discussing this collection. It’s bold and hyperbolic, clever and engaging.
It’s filled with big ideas. “People say ‘sell your soul’ like it’s easy. But your soul is yours and it’s not for sale. Even if you try, it’ll still be there, waiting for you to remember it.” (“Zimmer Land”)
Sometimes coupled with sharp quips. “Pay attention to the moment. Suck it in like the last sip in the juice box.” (“In Retail”)
One of the striking elements of the collection is the satirical thrust, the author’s push past the unexpected to the unthinkable. But the power in the collection rests in the fact that what you might think is hyperbolic is rooted in history and mythology of the Afro-American community, the hinge that swings between what should be horror and what is true injustice. If you don’t recognize the references and connections, the stories might settle at edgy but that rootedness is what has led so many readers to rave, what has led some to believe what he’s doing is revolutionary. When, really, all he’s doing is flying.
Contents: The Finkelstein 5, Things My Mother Said, The Era, Lark Street, The Hospital Where, Zimmer Land, Friday Black, The Lion & the Spider, Light Spitter, How to Sell a Jacket as Told by IceKing, In Retail, Through the Flash
The only one of Willa Cather’s early short stories I’ve read is “Paul’s Case” (maybe the one about Wagner too), when I first discovered her via The Song of the Lark. So Chris Wolak’s reading project (which I learned about via one of Paula’s event posts) immediately appealed.
The first story up for discussion is Willa Cather’s “Flavia and Her Artists”, which is named for a 35-year-old woman “lit by the effulgence of her most radiant manner”.
Phew, that’s a mouthful, isn’t it? But Flavia would love it. “To Flavia it is more necessary to be called clever than to breathe.” But just how clever is Flavia? It depends who you ask.
It also depends who’s asking. Are you a more accomplished artist basking in the glory of fame? Or are a less successful artist with minor accomplishments who prefers the idea of being an artist to actually putting in the necessary time and effort?
Or are you an old friend who might be resentful of Flavia’s marriage and comfort and influence? Or are you a clear-eyed onlooker who deplores Flavia’s habit of soaking up other people’s daydreams and claiming them as her own analyses and musings? (Next up? “The Garden Lodge”)
Something I read online about Lili Anolik’s new book, Hollywood’s Eve: Eve Babitz and the Secret History of L.A. (2019), piqued my curiosity about Eve Babitz’s short fiction. And I’m not alone. Having expected to be able to renew my library copy of Babitz’s collection, and caught short by the realization that there was a substantial list of readers waiting to read her, I asked the lit-Twits which stories were unmissable. Lili Anolik recommended “Slumming at the Rodeo Gardens”, “Free Tibet” and “Black Swans” by Eve Babitz.
All three stories are set in L.A. and “Slumming at the Rodeo Gardens” is about her friend Warren “who married for money and now never reads a book or laughs or helps anyone but only tells you how much things cost”. (I suspect there is a real Warren, as Lili Anolik tagged the Walter who appears as a character in “Black Swans” in her Tweet.)
Babitz’s style is powerfully engaging and readers are instantly transported to a world where “body lifts, skin peels, fat suctioning, teeth bonds and collagen flourish in the gracious noonday shade”. (And where many men’s names begin with ‘W’.) There’s a darkness to the stories – “to be corrupt you have to have once not been, and nobody in this place was ever that” – but her prose is dynamic and somehow keeps readers buoyed.
In “Free Tibet”, the narrator debates whether she is like a character in Proust and has an epiphany about her life thanks to Fay Weldon whose “fiction got through to me where facts had feared to tread”. (So, obviously, I loved this. I’ve only read two books by Fay Weldon, but I took pages of notes from each.) One woman is “too much of a cliché to leave” an unhappy marriage but there’s also “great sex, in an Edgar Allan Poe kind of way” and “endless parties for art”.
“Black Swans” chronicles a life of too much, of pill-popping and drinking, of wanting to be a writer (but not like Joan Didion who scared men, more like M.F.K. Fisher). All while our narrator copes with paralyzing heat by staying in air-conditioned hotels with Walter. “Our histories of abandoned relationships, chaos, and broken glasses and broken dreams. And I do mean broken.” But a comic thread remains: “You could suffer fools a lot more gladly when you were one yourself.”
[Coincidentally, my library copy of Lili Anolik’s new book, Hollywood’s Eve: Eve Babitz and the Secret History of L.A. (2019), has just arrived as well. I’m starting early: I’m positive there’s a queue behind me for this one!)]
I haven’t peeked at his graphic novel yet – can you guess why? Even with the east Coast setting, the graphic novel format just doesn’t appeal to me!
No, no, no: that was the old-Naomi. New-Naomi read a graphic memoir by Ian Williams (not THE Ian Williams, who is mostly bookish with a bit of hospital tossed in, some other Ian Williams who is mostly hospital with a bit of bookishness tossed in) and now SHE loves graphic fiction AND non-fiction. nods over-eagerly
Oh right! THAT Naomi has already scoped out the library situation for Kris Bertin’s graphic novel and has determined that she can get it through ILL. The request has been sent. 🙂
It does look like fun – I used to read a lot of those formulaic girls’ mystery stories as a girl and they’re ripe for the satirical picking!
Enjoyed this post! I haven’t read any short stories for a few months now, and I’ve always meant to read something by Willa Cather without ever getting around to it, so I think that’ll be my next move. Thanks for the link to my review of Friday Black, and I loved reading your take on it.
I’ll be curious to see which story collection next captures your interest. If you do try Cather, there is a Vintage collection which forms the basis for Chris’s reading project (I’m pulling randomly from the older collections) which would probably be a better bet for context (based on what other readers in this group are saying).
Do you know that if I pick up a New Yorker magazine I NEVER read the fiction? I can’t explain why, even if it’s an author I have liked before. I find that my patience for long magazine articles is less than my patience for books or short stories in a collection. That logically makes no sense, I know. In any case, I haven’t been reading many short stories this year but I have at least 9 or ten collections sitting there at home. I should make that my only reading goal for next year. Read the dang short stories!
nods I’m guessing that points to years and years of reading browse-y magazines rather than solid journalism. If there were magazines around when I was younger, they were the kind that you flipped through, not the kind that you simply read (and never the kind you read straight through) and I think, after all those years, I still expect magazines to be a fleeting thing, something you sample, something that fills up slivers of time, not “real reading”. Fortunately, your story collections are v-e-r-y patient with you!
I’ve only read two story collections so far this year, Sing to It by Amy Hempel and the forthcoming Meteorites by Julie Paul (Canadian!), and both have been so-so for me: there’s a few knockout stories, but then a number of more forgettable ones that leave me with an overall mediocre impression. I don’t always think reading a whole collection all the way through is the best strategy, and yet that’s what I had to do with these [in order to review them for paying venues].
I’ve enjoyed stories by both authors, although I’m not in a panic to get to their new collections either. Right now I’m just starting Thomas King’s 2005 collection, A Short History of Indians in Canada (although I’ve read the title story so many times – love it), and slowly finishing three others the latest Mavis Gallant and an Irish and a Welsh collection (late for – but still inspired by – the relevant reading months) by George Egerton and Dorothy Edwards (both Virgao Modern Classics). Those will take me into May, I think. Hope you can find more leisurely time to enjoy some other collections this year! (But paying gigs are nice.)
I will hope to have a slight focus on short fiction in September, as I’ve done a couple times in recent years. I don’t think I have any stories on the docket before then, but maybe I’ll put a collection on my 20 Books of Summer to encourage myself to read more.
Oh, I just remembered that I’m soon going to be reading one that I think you quite enjoyed as well, Nathan Englander’s What We Talk about When We Talk about Anne Frank. And I second the idea of reading one through the summer, so that you can take your time with it!
Oh yes, I love that one! I’m currently reading his new book, Kaddish.com.
I had a sort of off-the-wall idea of just reading books about animals (or at least ones with animals in the title, or even just on the cover) for 20 Books of Summer, so I might put Hannah Tinti’s collection Animal Crackers on the pile.
Oooooo, I have an ongoing project on that subject, but I have to take long breaks because of the weeping. One of my #Club1965 reads, for later this month, is Walt Morey’s Gentle Ben. So far, not TOO sad. Somewhere recently, I heard an interview about Englander’s new book. (Maybe “The Guardian”?) It sounded good too! Hope I enjoy the other collection as much as you did. Do you know Judith Kerr’s Mog stories? I just discovered them a couple of years ago and they are so lovely. (You’d have to count the whole series as one of twenty though, and even that seems slight.)
Well, I will try to avoid books where the animal dies, but you never can be sure before you set out!
I’ll have to see if my local library carries the Mog books. Sounds like the sort of picture books I’d enjoy (in the same vein as The Church Mouse books).
Don’t you hate it when you’d planned on renewing a library book, only to discover you actually have to return it on time? I’d started a novel a few days ago (Katya Apekina) and I had only a few days until I would either need to renew or return. But there were plenty of copies available at that time, so I thought, no problem…Suddenly they’re all checked out & I can’t renew so I have to finish the book much more rapidly than it deserved. (Quite good.) There must have been an article somewhere.
Eve Babitz is on my notional TBR list as well, but from this I see I may have to wait a bit.
Heheh Yes, we can bond over that frustration! I’ve been adjusting my library habits this year (again? still?) and working through my “List” (you know, the evil, endless “List” function in TPL?) and requesting books in chunks from the shelves I’ve created there. So I was hoping to keep this one longer while I focused on the themed chunk. In your case, I’d be itching to know if it was shortlisted for something, or assigned reading locally, or what?
The Babitz is a compact collection, around 200 pages with generous margins, and one which would, I think, be as well enjoyed in a burst (which is something I rarely suggest with collections). So you could easily read it in a single borrowing period, but I was working with a two-day window and expecting that each story would require time to simmer.
The “List” function! Oy! Although I was happy when they added it because before that I kept everything as an inactive hold. It would be nice if they added a better grouping mechanism.
As for the Apekina, I saw something about the press, Two Dollar Radio out of Columbus, OH, and wanted to check out some of their books so I got a couple from the library. I thought about doing a full on review but I was rushing over to Palmerston to give it back. But it was quite good, I thought, structurally interesting and with mostly engaging characters. The redemption at the end didn’t feel entirely earned, but oh, well…
Forgive me if I’m stating the obvious, but you know you can arrange your “saved” list on shelves, right? And include some additional info, including links, underneath the name of the shelves? Do you require even more organizing than that? And I do, even still, have a layer of things that exists in the inactive hold state. That’s my current method of attack, working through THAT part of the “list”. Palmerston is a charming branch. I’ve only been in there a few times but it’s very homey.
Two Dollar Radio really does look like an awesome little press. I love that they openly bill themselves as being “not for everybody”. This sense of entertainment being expected to be universal – the need to potentially profit off everybody – is grinding everyone down (because of course it only leaves a bunch of people in “everybody” slightly/greatly disappointed).
Hmm. I don’t actually see where you can save additional info such as a link, which would be great. There’s a create a list button as part of the whole saved mechanism, and I can name that list, but that’s about as far as it seems to go. Nothing called shelves. (I’m on a Mac–maybe that’s it?)
Palmerston is nice and it’s close for me. They’re friendly there, too. It’s rare that the book I actually want is there, but that’s not too serious a defect.
I’ve had good luck with them so far. Found Audio by N. J. Campbell was the other & it was good as well.
‘them’ being Two Dollar Radio
What I’m calling shelves are actually just other lists (I’ve made a lot, so many that they are, apparently laughs shelves in my mind) and if you are just looking at “All” in the main view, with all of them listed down the page, you don’t see other options. But, there’s a certain kind of magic, if you select a single list (shelf), and there’s an option to Edit/Delete which appears at the top of the new page which is dedicated to that subset of titles. There you can add links and text. You can also do that on each individual item on a list, by using the options which display via the “hamburger” menu next to “Saved” for each book. Such fun! (sighs)
Week before last I was out at the Cliffside branch, where I’ve never been, to investigate something they have on reference only, and the woman at the desk greeted us when we came inside, which happens sometimes, of course, but she seemed to KNOW everyone else who came in. Now that doesn’t happen so often in my experience! (Also, the bluffs are lovely of course, and just a few blocks away.)
Ah, ha! I get it now. Actually the saved function is more useful than I originally realized. Now to go back and try to make sense of all the books I stuck on it…
I really should check out some of the other branches–Spadina Road is also close for me, and I’ve been to the main one on Yonge of course, but really very few others. It is getting to be the season where you can wander around a bit more outside.
Yay: I thought you would find it more fun and useful once you’d gotten into it. Spadina Road is one I visit periodically just to browse their Indigenous writers’ collection; it’s also a small and cozy branch. I think I’ve been to all the libraries via subway lines and a few of the others, but I don’t have the colouring book that lets you get stamps for each one pouts: they came out with that after I was done with the bulk of my exploring. (You can buy it at Page and Panel in the TRL if you want to get serious about your exploring!)
Hmm I took a bit of a break from short stories these past few weeks, but I think I’m ready to dive into another collection shortly. That seems to be the only place I get my short stories because I don’t subscribe to any magazines (I know, I know, I’m bad)
If I don’t keep one in my stacks, it starts to niggle at me eventually. Like an itch that needs a good scratch. You ARE bad! 🙂 You should subscribe to Eighteen Bridges, support an awesome western-CanLit magazine which has a great short story in each issue. (Link to an essay you might appreciate, cuz even their non-fiction is good.)
Yes! I’ve heard of 18 bridges, isn’t Lynn Coady associated with them or something? Are they out of Alberta? I really should subscribe…
Yes! And, yes! (It’s hard to tell from the site, but it’s a very polished publication. And one of those which manages to interest me in every article, even when, on the surface, it doesn’t seem like a topic “for me”.)
Willa Cather and Eve Babitz both appeal to me.
I’ve recently read Kris Bertin’s new collection, Use Your Imagination, and loved it. I think I liked it more than his first.
(I might have just entered my comment in reply to Anne’s. Oh well. Hi Anne!)
I have his first on my TBR but his second sounds even more to my liking. (Also, I see he has a graphic novel which looks like a lot of fun, also with an east-coast setting: have you peeked at that one too?)
I tried a Sally Rooney story in The New Yorker recently, and it was okay. Didn’t make a huge impression, but there is something about it that left me wanting more, like, maybe I’ll try one of her novels, once the hype dies down!
I’ve heard that her voice is strangely mesmerizing, so maybe she’s hooked you after all!