Your Custom Text Here
Available Short Story Collection
Playing at Cruelty, a short story in this collection, written in 2019, is my attempt to protest Trump’s propensity to rename things and a warning about the cruelty and danger inherent in such behavior. I don’t think I was far off! Paperback copies and Kindle editions available at all Amazon sites. And at various Book Boxes across Germany!
The Offing, Benjamin Myers, 2019.
This novel set in a small village on the coast of the United Kingdom is more lyrical than what I prefer to read. I chose to read it though because I was interested in how the author handled the growing friendship between an older, independent woman and a 16 boy exploring the world outside his village. I have been creating a similar dynamic in my novel-in-progress and thought I could learn something from this highly reviewed author. I found the characters well developed, the budding relationship intriguing, and the overall story quite enjoyable and emotionally engaging.
Robert is the boy who leaves his mining village to escape “limited expectations” and before he meets Dulcie we are treated to wonderful descriptions of the path he follows: nature is expertly described, as well as the opening of Robert’s eyes to the world around him. He stumbles upon the recluse Dulcie who lives alone in her modest cabin overlooking the sea. She becomes a natural tutor and guide to Robert and I loved getting to know her and her backstory which we discover along with Robert. Dulcie has a streak of bitterness to her worldview caused by some of her experiences which are revealed as Robert makes a more permanent home with her. Overall, the novel is a coming of age story, as well as a reckoning of a long life, and a wonderful exploration of growing with another person and enjoying the simplicities and beauty of the world.
Fat Time and Other Stories, Jeffery Renard Allen, 2023.
This is an impressive short story collection with far ranging settings and narrative styles. I didn’t sense that there was a universal theme between stories other than the exploration of Black lives, and this worked really well. Many stories were written in a style that I have seen called fictionalized history, speculative history, and alternative history where Allen reimagines the lives of well-known figures, such as Mile Davis and Muhammed Ali. I read in an Allen interview his suggestion that he sees this as riffs on small incidents in these peoples life’s and I found them quite pleasurable. Stories take place in Tangier, during an albino revolt, in Australia and in more local settings such as a high school.
If there is commonality between the stories I see it as the exploration of time. For example, in several stories there is the suggestion of Fat Time, or what I took to mean the moment that past, present, and future occur at the same time. For example in the story Circle we learn of a young woman caring for her dying mother but we also learn that she is also dying in the same manner. It’s more subtle than that in most stories, more like the feel of the narrative style where you float between past, present, and future. It is a fun, circular story telling method but not without worthy reading challenges.
The most straight forward story as far as narrative style and setting, and also one of my favorites in the collection, is Big Ugly Baby. The story deals with friendship, bullying, masculinity, and developing sexuality. It is beautifully written and expertly deals with coming of age in a time when norms are so aggressively militant.
I will definitely search out and read more Jeffery Renard Allen. He has an older story collection as well as a couple of novels available. Based on how much I enjoyed Fat Time I think it would be time well spent reading him further.
The Nocilla Trilogy alongside Amtssee
The Nocilla Trilogy: Dream, 2006, translated 2015; Experience, 2008, translated 2016; Lab, 2009, translated 2018; all translated by Thomas Bunstead.
I read these three experimental novels from Spain in 2019: I enjoyed them so much I knew I would return to them. I recently read them as part of my research for my novel in progress. I was using a writing style much like the one in the trilogy so I gave them a second read. Like the first time, I was blown away. Incredible writing and wonderful ideas and general explorations throughout. There are many reviews available online, some as pleasurable to read as the novels themselves, so I will just share a few thoughts here.
The first two novels follow the same style: brief narratives and quotes which tell disjointed stories but which hold together quite well. Dream is centered around a tree with hundreds of shoes hanging from it in the middle of the Nevada desert. Each vignette somehow streams out from there. Experience leaves the desert and casts a wider worldwide net. Both represent a complex differentiated world but focus on the relations between people and objects: they rarely meet but the connections are suggested by such things as the shoe tree, a lone shoe in the middle of a highway, and a suitcase of photographs.
The final novel, Lab, has a more traditional narrative but still has flavors of the avant-garde. It opens with a 63 page sentence relating the story of a man and woman working on a major project alongside their decaying relationship. The story concludes in a former prison turned lodge and explores identity and its dissolution. The concept of repetition, present throughout the first two volumes, takes center stage in the final volume.
Clearly the collection will not be to everyone’s liking, especially for those looking for traditional narrative, character development, and plot advancement. I, however, found the trilogy to be well worth the effort to decipher the meanings and ideas within, challenging yet rewarding, and quite simply a great deal of fun to read.
Enjoying Zsolt Lang
The Birth of Emma K. and Other Stories, Zsolt Láng, 2023, translated from the Hungarian by Owen Good & Ottilie Mulzet, 2023.
Often, while reading these stories, I was lost as to what was going on. It turns out, though, this uncertainty is partly what makes these stories so beautiful. Strange characters in strange settings and situations feed the uncertainty and kept my interest high as each story unfolded. The first story in the collection begins with ‘Our Lord’ sitting on a hill in Budapest contemplating who gave him the power to create the world. While this never gets resolved, we see him wrestle with his problem throughout the narrative, which seemingly has nothing to do with him. Lang describes this approach in the later story Chestnut where the narrator states, ‘We could go on in this banal but well-oiled style, because the external events aren’t important, rather it’s the invisible line of force of the internal happenings that guides the thread, woven from these sentences into a new pattern.’
Another invisible aspect of each story is an observer, sometimes seen but often not. He or she may be observing from a window or while sitting at a bus stop. We never learn if the observer is the narrator or simply a bystander but it is a powerful tool within the narrative, like the reader is sharing the observation, living alongside the characters and their ruminations. The story Loneliness takes place entirely at rubbish bin with the protagonist, Ildiko, standing by the bin while being observed by a stranger several floors above her. The narrative involves her observations, thoughts, and memories while taking out the trash but we know there is someone watching her and this ads a bit of menace and again, uncertainty to the story.
How The Birth of Emma K. informs my writing.
I found this collection intriguing and incredibly enjoyable. Not sure how I could pull off Lang’s style as I do not completely understand his accomplishment. However, I have experimented with the style in my stories such as Tiny Points of Contact and The Remove, both included in my collection Not So You’d Notice which is available at Amazon. In the former, the plot basically involves a kayak outing to observe manatees but there is a lot more going on in the protagonist’s head. And in the latter, the protagonist begins a car collection but it is what he is struggling with internally that holds greater importance.
Lang’s collection is worthy of a second read: for pure enjoyment but also to investigate his artistry, his building of a philosophical view of the world, and the comfort of dwelling in uncertainty.
Reading The Loser
Ahh! To read Bernhard again! Thoroughly enjoyed this single paragraph interior monologue. I’ve read most of Bernhard’s work in the past and wanted to reread his oeuvre once again so I started with The Loser. The story involves three main characters: Glenn Gould, Wertheimer, and the narrator. They become friends at the Mozarteum in Vienna while attending a Horowitz class for aspiring concert pianists. The plot that exists revolves around the life of Wertheimer, considered ‘the loser’ of the group. But both Wertheimer and the narrator have ‘loser’ characteristics, evident as the story unfolds. Both are devastated in the goal of musical virtuosity by the already brilliant Gould. Once they hear Gould play they abandon their quest for musical virtuosity, feeling that if one cannot be the best one should not even try.
The novel displays Bernhard’s typical misanthropic and extremely bleak prose which might be off-putting to many but I find rewarding. I’ve changed my world views since I first read Bernhard when I completely absorbed his views and conclusions. This time around I find I agree with his evaluations but not so much with his conclusions. Still, The Loser is a challenging and enjoyable read.
How The Loser informs my writing.
I have tried using this monologue style before, specifically in my short story Owning Scars, included in my collection Not So You’d Notice (available at Amazon). In it I imagine a man reminiscing on his past cruelty towards his siblings and the story take place primarily in his head. Not sure if I pulled it off but it is one of my favorite stories in the collection. I am also experimenting with the style in my work-in-progress so it is good to get a refresher course from Bernhard.
Most of my stories are fairly bleak seeing as Bernhard has long been an inspiration for my writing but as mentioned, I have a different mindset these days. I still deal with topics which can fall on the bleak side but I am trying to find a more positive spin for my narrative, much along the lines of ‘yes, this is how bad things are but here is how we can change that.’ We’ll see how successful I am with this as I conclude my manuscript.
The Best of Everything
The power of kindness! Paulette, the main character in this beautiful novel, is a model of kindness. It is her primary defining characteristic in the many relationships she nurtures throughout the story. Not that she is without flaws: she can be impatient, angry, judgmental, and demanding. But at her core is the belief in humanity and the overwhelming benefits of treating others with love and respect. We meet Paulette when she is single at 29 years old and watch her development as she approaches 50. Along the way is plenty of heartache, challenges, and major losses. She doesn’t always handle them well.
A book about kindness and gentleness, grief and recovery, redemption and forgiveness. And de Waal is very good at narrating the morass of feelings her characters experience or refuse to acknowledge. I love her handling of inner thought processes, as well as relational dynamics, and there are many in this novel. What I truly enjoyed is how kindness is woven throughout the narrative, despite the excruciating pain that was evident on the page. A tremendous meditation on the power of kindness.
How The Best of Everything informs my writing.
I am impressed with the comfortable flow of this novel, skating effortlessly over the passage of time and the ups and downs along the way. I would like to accomplish that in the novel I am writing as my protagonist develops over time. De Waal expertly explores her many themes without stating them clearly, something I struggle with and have previously posted about. Her themes are clear though in the plot development and character interactions. It is a model I can use in my writing.
I love the theme of kindness and read an awful lot about it. I’m not sure though that it has been a theme in my stories. Basically I have been meditating on what might be considered the opposite: cruelty. In the stories I have published and those I am currently submitting, I address the victims of cruelty and the suffering they experience. Perhaps I can create more rounded plots and characters if I switched my focus and explored the power of kindness as an antidote against cruelty. De Waal’s novel is a great example of this.
Lincoln in the Bardo, George Saunders, 2017.
This is a challenging but very fun novel. Entirely told in quotes, the story begins with the death of Lincoln’s son and goes on to explore grief, suffering, and loss on both sides of death: what happens to the living after death and where the dead go. In the novel the dead are in the bardo and provide the bulk of the story. They wrestle with their own losses (the living) and the challenge of moving on. In the cemetery where the story unfolds, Abraham Lincoln suffers extreme grief and there are plenty of eyewitness accounts of his behavior and his expressions of loss. A very intriguing subplot is the juxtaposition of Lincoln’s grief over the loss of his son and the loss of multitudes of soldiers during the Civil War. I found it to be one of the more interesting conversations in the story. But I also enjoyed many of the other conversations and debates in the novel. Lincoln in the Bardo was a great read, especially its mix of fiction and history (sometimes difficult to see their separation) and really cool experimental style.
The Quick & the Dead, Joy Williams, 2000.
Like Lincoln in the Bardo, this Williams novel is saturated with the dead, including a ghost, dead loved ones, the living dead of a nursing home, and a lot of dead animals. It is the background for the story of several adolescent girls making their way through the world seemingly alone: they experiment with environmentalism, silence, and privilege. Most of the adult characters are examples of ways not to live a life, souls filled with regrets, dissatisfaction, and bitterness. It is a beautiful story and incredibly well told by Williams. I’m looking forward to reading her most recent short story collection, The Pelican Child.
Under the Skin, Michel Faber, 2000. What an awesome novel! I first became aware of Michel Faber through his wonderful nonfiction book, Listen: On Music, Sound and Us and then went on to read his short story collection Some Rain Must Fall. His themes and ideas are intriguing and his writing is impressive. It’s the same with Under the Skin. Isserley drives Scotland roads picking up hitchhikers and as she uses them for her own purposes we learn who she is and about the organization she serves. It’s a nice mix of science fiction, literary fiction, gender study, and psychological study. Faber presents a microcosm of the problems we face with tribalism, nationalism, and xenophobia without ever mentioning those terms. He also expertly presents the evolution of Isserley in terms of her view of the natural world and her awareness of it. Glad I read this novel and I am looking forward to reading more of his work.
How Under the Skin informs my writing.
Faber’s pacing is wonderful with clues being presented from the early pages without revealing too much. I have been attempting the same with my novel-in-progress in terms of how much I reveal of the situation. I tend to blurt things out and then discuss them rather than letting the action and dialogue slowly reveal my message. I would love to create a manuscript that is as engaging and suspenseful as Faber’s.
Under the Skin also delivers a beautiful message: whether one agrees with it or not is irrelevant. The art of storytelling used to present this message is inspiring. I too have an overall message I would like to present through my current novel and can use Faber’s novel as a model to strive for. If my manuscript turns out to be a quarter as successful as Faber’s I would be satisfied. Thanks Michel Faber!
Austral, Carlos Fonseca, 2023. Translated from the Spanish (Costa Rica) by Megan McDowell.
Another fantastic novel by Fonseca: I found his Natural History to be excellent and I have ordered his first novel, Colonel Lágrimas. Very pleased to be spending time with his prose.
Austral, structurally similar to Natural History, includes a fascination with books, multiple texts within texts, an interest in land art, and a central focus on memory. It involves an academic’s quest to complete the final, unfinished novel of a recently deceased friend. He travels from the United States to Argentina and Guatemala to uncover the meaning of her text and along the way the reader is treated to intriguing characters and intense ruminations on the nature of memory, feeling the pain of others, and the development of culture.
Though I’ve finished the novel, I feel there are many more threads I need to untangle. Sometimes challenging, often requiring further research, but always engaging and thought provoking, Austral is a must read.
How Austral informs my writing.
I love this style of storytelling which uses embedded texts so successfully. Fonseca is so good at it and so is Lucy Ives, who I may read more of in the future. I am using it in my current writing and gave it a try in my short story Hypocrites Among Us, which has not yet found a publisher. In my story, I use song titles and lyrics, a university syllabus, and various fictional essays to tell the story of a young man learning about his father and the prevalence and common acceptance of hypocrisy in politics. I don’t know if I pulled it off well enough to earn an acceptance letter but it was fun utilizing this technique and I will continue to practice it.
I also found Fonseca’s prose about books and how children often respond to the world by seeking refuge within them beautifully written. I have a tendency in my writing to bluntly state a fact while Fonseca delicately plants suggestions and comments that unveil his thoughts about these issues. My new novel incorporates this very basic but difficult practice but I can always improve upon it by emulating the writing in Austral.
Thanks to Carlos Fonseca for writing such wonderful texts, and Megan McDowell for translating him!
Quisque iaculis facilisis lacinia. Mauris euismod pellentesque tellus sit amet mollis.