Which crazy old immigrant lady is the one you can trust?
(from In Persuasion Nation)
In a lovely urban coincidence, the last two houses on our block were both occupied by widows who had lost their husbands in Eastern European pogroms. Dad called them the Bohemians. He called anyone white with an accent a Bohemian. Whenever he saw one of the Bohemians, he greeted her by mispronouncing the Czech word for “door.”
This is my last story in the Saunders collection (I read “Commcomm” when it came out) but I read “Bohemians” a couple days ago and my initial thoughts have evaporated. All that remains is a sort of general impression, which is that Saunders got a little after school special on me. But hell, Tin Man always had a heart, how long could he pretend not to? Of course, I really enjoyed it.
Read it here.
This is George Saunders’ web site.
This is the wrong George Saunders, but he seems like a fun guy.