Stephen King, "Lisey and the Madman"

Lisey sees things in slow motion when a crazy man tries to kill her husband at a groundbreaking ceremony.

(from McSweeney's Enchanted Chamber of Astonishing Secrets)

So this is what Stephen King is like? I always assumed he was big on ideas, but short on finesse. Like Michael Crichton. (Does he write short stories?] But no, this is an expertly, dashingly told story. Everything moves slow and contemplatively, hiding clues and sneaky details in an excruciating description. Funny too.
So funny and engrossing, in fact that you hardly mind the length (at 30 pages, it's one of the longer pieces I've come across for The Project) and you're not really sure you're reading a horror story. I'm still not sure. It might be a horror story the way John Darnielle likes to preface a song by saying it's a horror story and it's really a song about two people in temporary love, and the only horror is the mostly unspoken disaster the song never gets around to detailing.
So, Stephen King. Wow. Who knew? A lot of people, probably.

George Panetta, "Suit"

Joe's snazzy new suit is white, an important fact he doesn't realize until it's too late.

(from The Italian American Reader)

Using sharp details and funny scenes, this story gets into the heads of people who think certain ways about certain things. Joe and the narrator are not dumb guys, but they live by these inane, mutating rules because they feel like outsiders, Italians in a WASpy world. A cool, atypical story.

Made me think about my dad, who grew up in ’50s Camden, in an Italian neighborhood. Whenever the family gets together, stories of the old neighborhood are told loudly and with much laughter by the Italians. Tales of strange arrangements, minor crimes, kids raised by aunts, old cars, funny dogs, weird sayings, what street, what was that drug store called, whose recipe?
The Irish side, my mom's side, also grew up in Camden but those memories are never brought up, probably because the Italian side is so much louder.
Tonight is Project Christmas, wherein my family and my brother exchange gifts. He was in Australia over the holidays. It's also when we'll celebrate my dad's birthday. Old tales of Camden will surely be told tonight. Besides his actual gifts, I think I'll give him this Italian American Reader book. And also this excellent Doo-Wop collection I got at work, too. Course I'll be burning that first. And please, no wop jokes.

Sherman Alexie, "Class"

A Native American man married to a white woman struggles with everyday marriage problems and wonders where he belongs.

(from The Toughest Indian In The World)

Another sometimes-funny, sometimes-sad story of confused people. Edgar Eagle Runner, a lawyer, feels like he lives in a white world. When he makes a brief foray into a Native American bar, it's disastrous. There are all kinds of awkward symbols in this story, like one really funny thing in the prostitute scene, which add a sort of allegorical feel to the human drama. Fun and uncomfortable.

Sherman Alexie, "The Toughest Indian In The World"

A Native American newspaper reporter picks up a tough guy hitchhiker who reminds him of the Indian warriors of old.

(from The Toughest Indian In The World)

Just when you think things are going one way, things go another. The ending is one possibile culmination of the tension built up in the story. Surprising, yes, but it never comes off like some cheap artsy literary device.
Some of the best scenes are the smaller moments. Things so sneakily poignant, you have to smile despite yourself. Like this one:

Inside the room, in a generic watercolor hanging above the bed, the U.S. Cavalry was kicking the crap out of a band of renegade Indians.

"What tribe you think they are?" I asked the fighter.

"All of them," he said.

I found the story here, if you're interested.

Hope nobody minds me going on a Sherman Alexie kick. I know I said I'd shoot for a new author each day. I'm doing research, here (for a tiny, tiny article). Also, I simply had to read this story because I had the book with me when I found myself with a lot of time to kill between bands at the Bright Eyes concert this evening. I was already feeling old, so just reading at a rock show (albeit one at the Academy of Music) seemed like a logical leap.

Sherman Alexie, "Assimilation"

She's Native American, her husband's white. Seems like the reasons they hate each other are the same reasons they love each other.

(from The Toughest Indian In The World)

A refreshingly blunt and hilarious examination of interracial marriage. No matter how much these two love or loved each other, they can't deny the politics of it. Sometimes the snarky commentaries on whiteness are a bit simplified, but that doesn't make it incorrect or unfunny.

I'll be reading quite a bit of Sherman Alexie this weekend. He's reading at the Academy of Natural Sciences. I just bought this collection so I could study up. I saw him read once before and it was something.

Silvia DiPierdomenico, "That Which I Am"

A woman diagnosed with lymphoma details exactly what she is going through.

(from McSweeney's, Early Fall, 2004)

This isn't a story with an arc, or, at least, it doesn't come to a satisfying conclusion.The sentences are mostly simple, declarative statements: which drugs, which products, who is wearing what, what color are their eyes. It's relentless and clinical in creating shopping lists. Is the woman upset about the chemo, about the uncertainty, about her dreams dashed? Probably, but those are not the concerns dealt with here. Which makes this a unique and interesting reading experience.

Angela Patrinos,"Sculpture I"

Martha is adrift in the world. Maybe that's why she's hanging out with one of the older art students who sculpts her nude body.

(from The Best American Short Stories 1996)

As I started this story I took note of the sometimes clunky storytelling, but as it went on, I was less bothered by it. Why? Because that's totally the way this character who never cared much for learnin' or anything would tell the story. So it's quite cool. I'm not completely sold on this story, parts of it seemed a little eager for awkwardness, but it's certainly a worthwhile, thoughtful read.

Check this out: I'm not 100% sure about the title this story. The back cover calls it "Sculpture I" while the inside of the book, including the table of contents, calls it "Sculpture I" (with a miniature version of a capital I). In the story itself, the class Martha models for is called "Sculpture 1" — so that's a mystery for you.



As I am wont to do, I tried to find this story online. I Googled the phrase "Ray and I went out a few times" and found only this Livejournal belonging to one "Jenandtonics." The current entry begins: "I could never become a vegan if for no other reason than my inability to survive without Ben and Jerry's." Oh, Jen.

Ben Ehrenreich, "What You Eat"

If you kill something you have to eat it, dad says. Why can't this kid stop killing?

(from The Best American Nonrequired Reading, 2004)

What a crazy, sicko little story. Fun in a way. I mean, this is really just a long extension of a joke, taking an inane saying to a nearly-logical conclusion. It's funny seeing this kid's whole life edited down to just the parts where he's killing animals and bugs (accidentally only sometimes) and then being forced to eat them. The dad is also a puzzling, intriguing character, always digging and looming.


Makes me think of a joke which can be traced back to funnyman Bob McCormick, about Ted Nugent taking on Predator. And when ol' Ted wins, as per his oath, he's got to eat his alien foe. It would probably take awhile.

Sometimes I Google phrases from the short stories I read, in an attempt to find you, my two loyal readers, a free copy of the story to read. I just looked for "My eyes closed to slits" but Google only came up with porn. Sorry, readers.

Steve Erickson, "Zeroville"

Some, like, filmmaker guy is obsessed with a door he either sees or thinks he sees in the backgrounds of old films.

(from McSweeney's Enchanted Chamber of Astonishing Stories)

I wasn't astonished. I was confused and bored. This was more like a series of interesting things stapled together to create something sorta moody and pretentious. Maybe that was the point. Still doesn't make it a good read.

Ayelet Waldman, "Minnow"

A woman who loses her baby during pregnancy is haunted by the mysterious cries coming through her baby monitor.

(from McSweeney's Enchanted Chamber of Astonishing Stories)

At times, this story was difficult to read. Partly because I found the writing a little predictable, at least a couple times. Mostly though, the repeated mentions of blood and milk and aches and loss made me squirm a little. Like any good horror story, this one kept me uneasy and worried about what came next. Toward the final pages, I guessed the twist ending. But that doesn't make it any less clever. Or scary.


You know, I'm still holding out hope for a happy short story. It's tough to keep reading about the messed up lives of all these characters, day after day, when you feel like your own life isn't going so well. I don't believe in commiseration. At least not with fictional beings.

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, "Half of a Yellow Sun"

A Biafran family loses almost everything in the Nigeria-Biafra Civil War.

(from The Best American Nonrequired Reading, 2004)

Told from the perspective of a young woman whose well-to-do family is uprooted by the war and whose lover is a soldier, this story's plot line isn't a roller coaster. It's a descending line. Things keep getting worse, and you keep reading because you hope against common sense that this will end well. Most compelling are the daily struggles of the "extras" in the war and their non-historical plights. They long for fresh food and salt and medicine, for stability.
Some sections of the story begin with Igbo sayings. They don't seem to parallel the action of the story, but they do help transport the reader to another way of thinking. Excellent story.


Want to know more about the Nigeria-Biafra Civil War? Read this.


It's snowing in Philadelphia.

Jonathan Lethem, "Vivian Relf"

Doran and Vivian are strangers, but they keep running into each other. That means something, right?

(from McSweeney's Enchanted Chamber of Astonishing Stories)

A funny, sad little story about a half-meaningless encounter on repeat. Alludes to sneaky truths about first impressions: You don't forget them. You are impressing as you impress.

Would I read more by this author? Yes. There is a dashing hope to this story that makes me want to live in it for a while. Pain mixed with fate. Romanticized importance of insignificant events.

David Schickler, "The Smoker"

A high school literature teacher thinks something weird is going on with his 19-year-old braniac student. Then he meets her parents.

(From The New Yorker, June 9, 2003, recommended by Maura Johnston)

A funny little story that keeps getting more absurd as it moves along. It's actually kinda straightforward until you meet Samson and Paulette, who are hilarious characters.

Here's a pointless observation: This story and the movie Meet The Parents, both feature cats which know how to use the toilet. Sort of strange, given that this is a meet-the-parents story in a way. The parallels pretty much end there, though.

Here, read it yourself.

...

Now, for no reason at all, here's a passage from Vonnegut's Breakfast of Champions that I like. It's a summation of "The Dancing Fool," a short story by Kilgore Trout.

A flying saucer creature named Zog arrived on Earth to explain how wars could be prevented, and how cancer could be cured.
He brought the information from Margo, a planet where the natives conversed by means of farts and tap-dancing.
Zog landed at night in Connecticut.
He had no sooner touched down than he saw a house on fire.
He rushed into the house, farting and tap-dancing, warning the people about the terrible danger they were in.
The head of the house brained Zog with a golf club.

David Mitchell, "What You Do Not Know You Want"

A modern treasure hunter of sorts comes to Hawaii in search of the knife Mishima used to kill himself.

(from McSweeney's Enchanted Chamber of Astonishing Stories, again)

This is more or less an old school pulpy detective story, full of wisecracks, shady characters, bizarre twists, heavy drinking, almost-sex, false leads and a wacked out surprise ending. If it wasn't for the final pages (which were way out there) I would say this is the kind of amusement parky, attitude-driven story I'd enjoy reading all the time. It felt like a series in development, Fletch-meets-Hunter S. Thompson-meets-Dirk Gently, or something. The ending wasn't bad, just not on the same planet as the rest of the story. Occasionally the language and tone were a bit overdone, but not distractingly so.


Now I will attempt to do some shoveling, as per the terms of my lease.

Margaret Atwood, "Lusus Naturae"

The black sheep of the family is turning into something more sinister.

(McSweeney's Enchanted Chamber of Astonishing Stories)

An awesome, simple, touching, scary story. The protagonist seems to be one of those hapless, misunderstood subjects of black and white horror films. She is what she is. A monster? Yep, that's the word for it. But words fail.

This author has a bright future in the sci-fi/horror world. Good luck to you, Atwood!


Notes:
This story included an elegant word I'd never looked up till now:
lugubriously — in a mournful manner.

Technically I posted this story on Tuesday, not Monday. Using a Rambaldi device, I messed with the clock — just to keep things organized.

Robert Kelly, "How They Took My Body Apart and Made Another Me"

Aliens replace a boy's internal organs with two, squirrels, a hawk, a shoe and more.

(from The Best American Nonrequired Reading, 2004)

Basically, this story is a long metaphor for the way we resist adulthood and puberty and growing up. (Interestingly, to me, this story uses the phrase "blood-eagled" which made me think of a certain moment in one of my favorite short stories of all time by Wells Tower.) The writing style in "How They Took My Body Apart and Made Another Me" — a stream of whateverness mix of narration and internal dialogue — wears on you after a bit. The back of this anthology says this story is a part of a "novel in progress." I would be wary of reading a whole book written in this manner.

Of course, I don't read any novels.


Yesterday I walked over to the Borders at Chestnut and Market and dropped $45 into Dave Eggers' collection plate. Earlier in the day, I'd spent pretty much the same amount on groceries at Trader Joes. Bought meatballs, fake cheese, almonds (which I had a dream about) and other things. But at the book store I only got three books. They are:

The Best American Nonrequired Reading, 2004. Duh. Eggers edited this one. It features a forward by Viggo Mortensen, who, besides being the Lord of the Kings, is also some kind of author. This book has stories by David Mamet and David Sedaris, but most of the names are not well-known and non-David.

McSweeney's Enchanted Chamber of Astonishing Stories. Edited by Michael Chabon. This picks up where McSweeney's Mammoth Treasury of Thrill Tales (2002, also edited by Chabon) leaves off. The point of this series is plot. I love plot. Authors include Heidi Julavits, Margaret Atwood, Joyce Carol Oates, more.

McSweeney's Number 14. T.C. Boyle, Denis Johnson, Jim Shepard, more. Plus, holy crap, Wells Tower. The mysterious, though aforementioned, author of one of my favorite short stories which, at this point, needs a shout-out: "Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned." Nice.

Harlan Ellison, "Goodbye to All That"

A man climbs to a mystical peak in search of enlightenment and finds something like the rest of the world.

(from McSweeney’s Mammoth Treasury of Thrilling Tales)

Well, this isn’t so much a story as a snarky riffing on our crazy modern times with our pop culture and our sports and our consumerism and our Google. So, while it’s not really predictable, “Goodbye to All That” doesn’t exactly feel like news, either. The writing is purposely over-cooked, but that’s OK since this is a short one. Here is an excerpt.


All that said, the story included some interesting words and phrases we should all use in sentences this week. This is how we will recognize each other:

dromomania: This doesn’t appear to be in any dictionary, and our Google is little help, but story explains this term as compulsive traveling, wanderlust.

Cathexian: This word has only been used once in the history of time, according to our Google, and that one time is in this story. Cathexia, however, is a real word, most likely. I found some medical page with this sentence:
The cancer relying on fermentation for energy (fermentation is only a 15th as efficient as respiration) demands more nutritional sustenance than the body can afford, and so the body, overloaded with toxins, wastes away... this is Cathexia.

ineluctable: impossible to avoid or evade; inevitable.

and the phrases...

The Avalanche has already started, it is too late for the pebbles to vote: Hmm. Looks like this one’s from Babylon 5, of all things. Never saw it. Always looked like the Mummers version of Star Trek to me. Or maybe the phrase is older than that. Anyway, it’s not really like Ellison was trying to steal somebody else’s line — these phrases come from a list of trite bits of wisdom.

The barking dog does no harm to the moon: I like that.

OK, that’s all.

Haruki Murakami, "Super-Frog Saves Tokyo"

A well-read, six-foot frog enlists the help of an ordinary loan collector to defeat a large worm and prevent and earthquake.

(from After The Quake, translated from the Japanese by Jay Rubin)

What an utterly strange story. I don't know that there are any metaphors or allusions at play here. I think it's just a story about a big frog who quotes Hemingway, references Dostoevsky and wants to help.

Jean Thompson, "All Shall Love Me And Despair"

An overeducated junkie and an adventurous pushover occasionally enjoy a lopsided, doomed nigh-romance. Or something.

(from The Best American Short Stories 1996)

Wow. Though stories of smack addicts and the people they stomp on are the stuff of countless movies, after-school specials, commercials and anecdotes, this story dazzles with its sneaky wordplay. But it's never too clever, never cumbersomely writerly. In fact, it's too self-aware for that. See:

But that was a long time ago, in the good part of the bad old days, and Annie's through with pretty words for ugly things. She doesn't want anything in her life that has to be tricked out in poetry, explained away.

I also like this:

The first time they walked out on the beach, they were timid, as if someone might shoo them away, smell the city or the fear on them and determine they had no right to be there.

Damn.
One of the best short stories the project has led me to so far.

No, I didn't transcribe those lines. I Googled the phrase "the ocean is no certain color" and found this, the first half of the story.

Hanna Krall, “The Woman From Hamburg”

The story starts when a Polish couple agrees to hide a Jewish woman in their wardrobe in 1943. The woman becomes pregnant, and everything accelerates from there.

(from The New Yorker, Dec. 20 and 27, translated from the Polish by Madeline G. Levine)

Fast-paced and plainly told, this story is all about getting down to it. I’m not sure whether the author believes that the secret of the circumstances surrounding the woman’s pregnancy is supposed to be a secret revealed in the story's final turns, or if you’re supposed to figured it out early on and just let things progress not for intrigue but because a good story is a good story. That make sense?

Lately I’ve been reading stories translated into English. Which basically means the names and places seem foreign but it reads really smoothly. Sometimes I wonder what I’m missing by not reading things in their original language. What untranslatable turns of phrase or cultural references are being omitted?

Ryu Murakami, "I Am A Novelist"

A famous author falls for the woman who fell for somebody pretending to be him.

(from The New Yorker, Jan. 3, 2005, translated by Ralph McCarthy)

At the root of this story is a timeless, unsolvable question: Why does one person like another person. The rules of attraction and fallacies of deciphering them are explored through characters who can't quite grasp the futility of their situation. "I Am A Novelist" strings together moments of comedy, sexiness, baseball, sci-fi and coincidence to tell its rather absurb story. Then ends it all with a quick slap. An interesting and entertaining read.

I would provide a link to the story, but I have not been able to find it online (unlike the last time I read a New Yorker story).

Instead check out this dramatically titled interview, Ryu Murakami: Enfant Terrible of literature.

A.L. Kennedy, "Indelible Acts"

A woman recalls a sleepless fling in Rome.

(from Indelible Acts, on loan from the Juliet Fletcher Library)

A mostly fun, occasionally surprising and often dirty little story. The characters exist in the real world, but pretend to live in some hazy fantasy. Makes for a pleasant, non-linear read.

The word in this sentence that looks different from all the others is a link to an essay Kennedy wrote about writing. It's so very long. I have not read it.
I told a friend that I am tired of writings about writing, movies about struggling to make movies, plays about putting on a play, books about writers, poems about being a poet. I told her I want a movie about making a cake. She suggested a movie about making all kinds of cakes might work better.
I would love a piece of cake right now.

Jakob Arjouni, "The Rudolf Family Does Good Works"

A fun little family lets their ideals fit the crime by taking advantage of a mysterious houseguest.

(from IDIOTS: Five Fairy Tales and Other Stories. Oh geez, it doesn't come out until June.)

A funny, sneaky story whose characters find little ways to justify taking things they want. It takes a little while to realize your reading a satire, and by then you've already mistaken the characters for actual people.

This story, this whole book, was translated from the German by Althea Bell. Though the piece has a lot of political rhetoric and German historical references, you can work it out no problem.

Sorry to write up a book that won't be out for months and months. It's an advance copy I picked up at the newspaper office where I work. Was just looking for any short story. I don't imagine anybody actually goes out and reads anything I write about on this page. But just ruling out the possibility is disheartening, a mistake I should look out for.

Kurt Vonnegut, "2BR02B"

Aging, among many things, has been cured and the population of the United States is holding steady at 40 million. How? Babies are only allowed to live if some adult, tired of living in eternal youth, volunteers to be terminated. Seems like an OK plan, until this one couple gives birth to triplets.

(from Bagombo Snuff Box)

Read the title like this: 2 Be Or Naught To Be. Not too subtle.
It's an easy read that spends most of its pages setting up its desperate ending, making it seem not just believable, but inevitable. As usual, Vonnegut relies a bit more of concept than style.
While this story is hardly primitive, it is worth noting that "2BR02B" comes from Vonnegut's early period as a freelance writer for magazines in the 1950s. In 1965, his novel God Bless You Mr. Rosewater makes reference to this story, attributing it to his soon-to-be recurring pulp author character Kilgore Trout.

I confirmed this bit of trivia via Marc Leeds' nigh inexhaustable, though slightly dated, compendium, The Vonnegut Encyclopedia. I've only ever seen one copy of it (at The Strand in New York City) and you better believe I bought it. So, there you have it. I am a big Kurt Vonnegut nerd.

Hiho.

Ed Park, "Night Eating Syndrome"

An long-aspiring novelist finally has to meet his fiancée's parents. Her eccentric (or possibly crazy) dad messes with his head.

(from Crowd, issue #4)

This is a funny little story. It's a little wacky at parts, but who's to say there shouldn't be a Spin City or, more to the point, a Meet The Parents of short stories? Not everything has to shoot for art, people. Sometimes, doing a small thing well is enough.

Another life lesson brought to you by I Read A Short Story Today. Tired, confused, good night.

Mary Gordon, "Intertextuality"

Reading Proust rekindles a woman's memories of her grandmom.

(from Best American Short Stories 1996)

About 500 words in, I put my finger on the page and closed the book on so I could look at the cover. I was momentarily worried that I had picked up one of those Best American Essays collections instead. (I had just purchased this collection a few days ago; it was possible that after 20 minutes of deliberation, I had grabbed the wrong one when it was time to leave the Book Trader. I also bought Bobby Clarke and The Ferocious Flyers.) But no. This is simply a short story that reads like an essay, partly because it is a collection of anecdotes and facts that seem real enough.
Ever read any Marcel Proust? I never have. A gap in my education, I suppose. I'm going to have to getting around to reading him. Why? Because I fancy myself a writer, of sorts, and every 12th writer is required to write a book (or at least an essay or short story or CD review) which references this apparently indespensible literary lynchpin. Proust is a Beer Of The Month Club. He's a pyramid scheme. He's the gift that keeps on giving. If it turns out I'm the 12th, I better know what I'm talking about.
Or.
Everybody could just give it a rest about Proust already.

That said, back in 1996, Mary Gordon, author of "Intertextuality," was not aware of my impending moratorium on Proust. We have to read her story on its own antiquated merits. I rather liked it, mostly because I choose to believe the snooty, cold tone was meant to tell us something about this family that never had much need for sharing emotions. So it's a success, and a fine read, Mary Gordon. And Marcel Proust would surely drop $10 in your PayPal account for the shout-out. Then, turning to the writing community as a whole, he would say, but really, please, give it a rest.