On the short stories that spoke to
me despite myself.
Great Beach Reads, like great art
period, can often be found in the most surprising places. Last fall I taught my
third Adult
Learning in the Fitchburg Area (ALFA) class, this one focused on American
women’s short stories (by both 19th century and contemporary
writers). At the end of the five-week class, one of the students (a woman who
has taken, and been a hugely valuable voice in, all three ALFA classes I’ve
taught thus far) handed me a collection of short stories: Caitlin Macy’s Spoiled
(2009). It turns out that Macy, also author of the novel The Fundamentals of
Play (2001), is this student’s daughter; many of the short stories we
had read dealt with parents and children, so for the student to give me a
collection of stories by her own daughter was about as resonant a concluding
moment as I can imagine.
After such an introduction, of
course I was going to read Macy’s collection; but I’ll admit that I didn’t
initially do so with a sense that they were up my alley. The jacket blurb
elaborates on the book’s title, describing the stories’ protagonists as
“well-heeled thirtysomething women who despite their education and affluence
struggle to keep their footing in their relationships with their friends, their
parents, their spouses, and their children.” I try not to let my feelings on contemporary
American issues of wealth and inequality get in the way of my enjoyment of
literature, but it was hard not to feel as if the publication of such a book in
the immediate aftermath of the 2008 financial meltdown was, let’s say, an
unfortunate coincidence of timing. So I began reading Spoiled out of a sense of obligation, which (as I’m sure my
students can attest) represents a significant challenge to the genuine
enjoyment of a text.
All of which I say to say this: I
enjoyed the heck out of Spoiled, and,
given all that baggage, that’s a very definite reflection on Macy’s talents. She
utilizes the elements of great short story writing—complex, somewhat unreliable
narration and character perspectives; structures that carry us along and lead
to often surprising yet authentic conclusions; deftly drawn people and places,
characters and settings—to wonderful effect, with nary an unsatisfying story in
the bunch. Within a page or two of each story I had forgotten that I was
reading about what one reviewer called “the impossibilities of privilege” and
was simply immersed in her characters and worlds, her sharp observations of
identities and relationships, her witty and compelling voices. It doesn’t
matter whether you’d want to hang out with these characters if they were real;
you most definitely will want to spend time with Macy’s fictional versions, and
they’d keep you excellent company pool-side this summer.
Next beach read tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What would you recommend for a
good beach read? What are you hoping to get to by the pool this summer?
Okay, I'm going to be the nutcase that offers book ideas daily because: 1. I have nothing better to do; 2. I'm a sad sad sad little woman; 3. It's too hot out to go running.
ReplyDeleteBernard Cornwell's The Pagan Lord is a fun read. I'm half way through and enjoying it. Cornwell is essentially Grrrrrr Martin but able to publish books at a regular rate and fails to ruin the lives of his fans. (Ned Caitlyn, Robb Stark, WTF! If Littlefinger dies that's it, I'm out.) His books are pretty well researched (for those of you without a TARDIS) historical fictions during the pre-modern era. Alfred the Great has just died and now the country is ruled by Edward and coming apart at the seems. Think Phillipa Gregory but without all the mushy love stuff and just people hacking off limbs. Yeah, you'll look awesome on the beach. It says "I'm reading a book 10th century England. It's nice to have something that puts dream of the rood into a cultural context." Then sit back and watch that hipster just slink back into his copy of Divergent.