Steven Millhauser’s “Phantoms”

It’s been a couple months ago that I read this short story as part of my 2013 Short Story Reading Project. I acquired it, along with nineteen others, when I purchased “The Best American Short Stories 2011″ anthology, edited by Geraldine Brooks.

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I selected several of the stories therein to include in my annual project in hopes of adding a more contemporary flavor to my roster (I tend to read or re-read a lot of classic stories and authors in these projects). Not all of the stories in the anthology are on my list for 2013, but the ones that are were chosen based upon the contributors’ notes in the back of the book. Millhauser (a Pulitzer Prize winner in 1997) says of this story: “For a long while I wanted to write a story about a phantom woman. It never came to fruition, for reasons I can only guess at. One day, unexpectedly, a different kind of phantom story appeared to me and dared me to write it. The story “Phantoms” is the result of that dare.” I liked that. Especially how a phantom story “appeared” to him – what else would a phantom story do? The story was originally published in issue 35 of McSweeney’s Magazine (cover pictured below).

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The narrator of this story (which should not to be confused with the Dean Koontz novel of the same name) is from an old town, founded in 1636, and surprisingly, matter-of-factly explains how these non-malevolent phantoms “plague” his town. So many of the people in the town have encountered phantoms that those who haven’t are actually a small minority.

What I Liked about this story was the unique way in which the supernatural was presented. Calmly, rationally, the author enumerates six separate proposed “explanations” for the phantoms. E.g., “the phantoms are the auras, or visible traces, of earlier inhabitants of our town,” or that “…the phantoms are not there, that those of us who see them are experiencing delusions or hallucinations brought about by beliefs instilled in us as young children,” and so on. Millhauser also includes numbered “case studies” and “histories” that sync-up with the different explanations.

The phantoms of this town always, upon discovery, disappear, but not after giving their spotter “The Look” described in this passage:

“Most of us are familiar with the look they cast in our direction before they withdraw. The look has been variously described as proud, hostile, suspicious, mocking, disdainful, uncertain; never is it seen as welcoming. Some witnesses say that the phantoms show slight movements in our direction, before the decisive turning away. Others, disputing such claims, argue that we cannot bear to imagine their rejection of us and misread their movements in a way flattering to our self-esteem.”

There is something about the rational and matter-of-fact way the town’s phantoms are presented that makes the story more chill-inducing than your standard issue “ghost story” too. In a section titled simply “You”, Millhauser challenges the reader:

“You who have no phantoms in your town, you who mock or scorn our reports: are you not deluding yourselves? For say you are driving out to the mall, some pleasant afternoon. All of a sudden – it’s always sudden – you remember your dead father, sitting in the living room in the house of your childhood. He’s reading a newspaper in the armchair next to the lamp table. You can see his frown of concentration, the fold of the paper, the moccasin slipper half hanging from his foot. The steering wheel is warm in the sun… the shadows of telephone wires line in curves upon the street… You pass through a world so thick with phantoms there is hardly room for anything else.”

Good stuff, huh?

In his final section, titled “How Things Are,” he finishes us off:

“For though we have phantoms, our town is like your town: sun shines on the house fronts, we wake in the night with troubled hearts, cars back out of driveways and turn up the street. It’s true that a question runs through our town, because of the phantoms, but we don’t believe we are the only ones who live with unanswered questions. Most of us would say we’re no different from anyone else. When you come to think about us, from time to time, you’ll see we really are just like you.”

I really enjoyed this story and its fresh approach. I’m sorry to say I had neither read nor even heard of Steven Millhauser before now, but I certainly plan to seek out other works of his. What about you? Does your town have phantoms or not? Have you seen any yourself? I have. (Well, kindasortamaybe.) Have you heard of, or read something by this author before?

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(above: author Steven Millhauser)

Memories of “Discovering Gold!”

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A couple weekends ago, my short story reading project led me to read Jack London’s short story “All Gold Canyon.” I own an ebook of London’s complete works and added this tale to my 52-story roster for 2013 reading. I chose it because of its tantalizing title and because it was one I hadn’t read before. I was not disappointed.

***Mild Spoiler Alert*** (this story is in the public domain and may be read/found for free online in many places – like this one.)

The story begins with the protagonist, a solitary prospector, coming upon a pristine canyon in the Southwestern U.S. The canyon is singular in its unspoiled natural beauty, and London’s description of it is a real tour de force. The prospector takes out a pan and begins testing the dirt for traces of gold. As  you could imagine by the story’s title, he is not disappointed either. Things go well and eventually he finds the source of the gold deposit. Extracting the gold won’t be that easy, though, as he must deal with natural obstacles as well as a nefarious “claim-jumper” before the story ends.

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All Gold Canyon struck a chord with me because it invoked some fond memories. The story includes a pretty lengthy description of the panning for gold, maybe more than I’d ever heard or read about that practice before. At that point in the story, a recollection from childhood hit me and for several minutes I became lost in “the realm of memory“…

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When I was growing up, my family had some LP records from a series called “My First Golden Record Library” that my two brothers and I listened to often, and of these our undisputed favorite was one titled “Adventures that Built America.” (album jacket pictured above) This record sounds somewhat cheesy when listened to today (a few years ago my Mom burned a copy to CD for me), but at the time it was high, “adventure” – for lack of a better word. It contained five individual tracks where the listener would ‘actively participate’ (there were quiet spots on the record where we were supposed to respond. The breathless narrator would urge us with “Say, ’yes,’ adventurer!” – or whatever the situation called for.) There were five separate adventures on the record, starting with Christopher Columbus discovering America (“You’ve sighted land, Adventurer!”) and moving on to Paul Revere’s ride, The Pony Express, and the Wright Brothers’ first flight in Kitty Hawk. There was also one about the California Gold Rush that started with its discovery at Sutter’s Mill (pictured below) in 1848.

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The sound effects were great, and in the Gold Rush “episode” the listener is part of a wagon-riding, claim-grabbing rush. Even as I’m typing this, I can hear the water swishing as the listener is panning for gold (“You’ve discovered gold, Adventurer!”). Re-listening to this record today – some ’drive-by’ research indicates it was produced in 1962 – it sounds pretty corny and campy. Complete with its often breathless narrator, over the top songs and music, it’s a wonder I didn’t grow up and become a great patriot of some kind…

(below: panning for gold)

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Have you read any of Jack London’s shorter works?  You’re missing out if you haven’t.  Which are your favorites or which do you recommend?  Are you a member of the generation that grew up listening to records like “Adventures that Built America?” Do you enjoy it when your reading opens a portal backward in time and into your own “realm of memory?”  I’d love to hear about it…

(Below: author Jack London)

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Stories Like White Icebergs

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I didn’t really start getting into Hemingway’s writing until a few years ago. I’d only read the famous short story, “The Snows of Kilimanjaro” for a class in high school. That was it. Then a couple years ago I was blown away by one of his short stories, “A Clean, Well-Lighted Place,” and began further exploration, including one novel (The Sun Also Rises) and several more short stories. After this additional exposure I began to learn a little more about him, and also his “Iceberg Theory” (or theory of omission) of writing which, as you might guess from the name, proposes that most of the story should lie “beneath the surface.

” I already enjoyed Hemingway’s economy of words and learned from a fellow reader (Hi, Richard!) in my Great Books Foundation discussion group at the Noral Library to think in terms of “everything in a Hemingway story is there for a reason.” (I can still hear Richard asking, perhaps somewhat mischievously, “Why is he giving him a cigar?!?” at our discussion of the Hemingway story, Indian Camp.) I learned a lot at that meeting. :-) Another Hemingway story that had been frequently recommended to me was the story, “Hills Like White Elephants,” so when coming up with a roster of stories to read for my 2013 short story reading project, I made a place for this one as the “five of clubs.”

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 ***spoiler alert*** But why not just read the story online yourself, though? One place you can find it is here:

  What was memorable to me about this story, which involves a couple traveling in the Ebro valley in northeastern Spain to a city where the woman will have some kind of procedure (never actually mentioned but clearly An abortion), is that the two characters themselves could be said to apply the “Iceberg Theory” to their relationship. Hemingway doubtless is applying it to the story, but their relationship adds another layer. An ice cube floating in a puddle of water on an iceberg? I’m sure that can happen in nature, so why not literature. Have you read this story? What did you think of it? Do you enjoy the theory of omission or do you prefer stories that are told in a more straightforward way? (Below: the Ebro valley in Spain – looks beautiful!)

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What is your favorite Hemingway story?

Veronica Roth’s “Divergent”

I finished this book on Sunday morning. I liked it well enough but, based upon its wild popularity, I admit I was hoping for more.

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Divergent is a novel centered in a Chicago of the future. Civilization – as it is known to us in the present day – has broken down (the reasons are not fully explained in this book) and a new civilization has replaced it. In this new civilization, the populace is divided into five groups or “factions,” and when children come of age they must choose which faction they want to identify with. Most choose to remain in the faction they were born into, but some choose to transfer during a kind of “sorting-hat ceremony” (no, there’s not really a Harry Potter-esque sorting hat, but that’s what I was reminded of) called the Choosing Ceremony, carried out after “aptitude tests” are administered.

Two siblings, Caleb and Beatrice (or “Tris” as she chooses to be called later), abandon their parents and their faction (“Abnegation”) and choose new factions. Caleb chooses “Erudite” while Tris, the main character in this book, chooses “Dauntless.” The other two factions are “Amity” and “Candor.” The factions got their names based upon the values each thought would have prevented the original civilization’s breakdown. Candor values honesty; Abnegation values selflessness; Amity, friendliness; Dauntless, bravery, and Erudite,knowledge. This novel, the first in a trilogy (“Insurgent” is already published and third installment is scheduled for October 2013) follows the adventures of Tris as she goes through her training as a Dauntless initiate and begins to discover all is not well in this five-factioned society.

I enjoyed the camaraderie and the rivalry amongst Tris and the other initiates, and also enjoyed seeing Tris grow into a more independent and confident young woman. I didn’t so much enjoy the typical YA romantic plot lines. I also have to say that I had a lot of trouble accepting or believing this post-apocalyptic? (not even sure it is) world. Too much is left out, as if this future world was hastily or incompletely constructed by the author. We don’t know the fate of the rest of the world, but we do hear that it is the job of the “Dauntless” to guard the fence around the city (from what?). Also noteworthy is that the trains still run, even though the infrastructure, for the most part, appears to have fallen apart. And somehow there is still power and moving parts enough in the John Hancock building for the Dauntless to use the elevators in order to participate in a harrowing zip-line ritual from time to time.

I loved the cover art of the book, and I have to admit it was a page turner which I completed in just a few days. I liked the Dauntless faction’s style, which included wearing black and multiple piercings and tattoos. I didn’t like that (*very minor spoiler alert*) the Erudite faction are the “bad guys.” Knowledge is evil! Haven’t we had enough of that these days? Will I read on in this series? Probably. A movie version is in development and may have started filming already. So, it might be “worth it” to keep up with this one. It’s no Hunger Games, which it somewhat reminded me of, but it should make an excellent and very popular film.

What about you? Have you read Divergent or both it and its follow-up, Insurgent? What did YOU think?

(below: author Veronica Roth – from Chicago herself, oddly enough :-) )

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May Reading – The Month Ahead

I’m always interested in hearing what my friends are reading (this is why Goodreads.com is favorited in my browser). Maybe you are the same way? Here’s what I think I’ll be working on in May:

First, a few ‘required’ reads, including a re-read of Kurt Vonnegut’s novel, Slapstick, for the monthly meeting of the Kurt Vonnegut Memorial Library Book Club. The club has covered all of his novels already and this will be the first “repeat” since I began participating. I think this was only the third Vonnegut novel I had read at the time of my initial reading, and – now that I’ve learned so much more of this author and his works – I’m really looking forward to revisiting it.

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(above: the Kurt Vonnegut Memorial Library’s replica of Kurt Vonnegut’s study)

One of the reading groups at Bookmama’s Bookstore in Irvington is meeting on the 29th to discuss the second half of the Tolstoy Classic, Anna Karenina. I attended the first meeting, but have kind of left the daunting novel lie fallow for a few weeks. I need to pick it up again and see what happens to Anna, Vronsky, Constantin, & Kitty. When I finish this book, a serious gap (one of very many, I’m afraid) in my cultural literacy will finally be filled. I wouldn’t mind seeing the movie adaptation with Keira Knightley in the title role either…

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My Great Books Foundation discussion group is meeting on the 21st to discuss the famous Lawrence Sargent Hall story, “The Ledge.” It is also my turn to lead the discussion, so I plan to thoroughly read this one and be prepared.

(below: Lawrence Sargent Hall, author of “The Ledge”)

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I’ve also been reading Veronica Roth’s novel, Divergent, and may even wrap that one up this weekend. I’m liking it so far, but I admittedly have a thing for dystopic fiction. This one kind of feels like Harry Potter meets Hunger Games meets Brave New World. I know a few of my fellow bloggers were disappointed in the sequel, but enough of them also liked this one to cause me to take the plunge.  Oh, and it’s set in a post-apocalyptic(?) Chicago too (don’t you recognize Lake Michigan on the cover?), so as a midwesterner that’s a plus.

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What else? Oh, yeah, I hope to start reading The Shift Omnibus by Hugh Howey. It’s the anticipated prequel to the addictive “Wool” omnibus, which I tore through last month and have been recommending around to anyone who dares ask me. Someday I’ll post about “Wool” – if I can get my act together and write something decent.

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There are four Saturdays in May, so that means I’ll read four stories for my annual “Deal Me In” short story project. Which stories I read, however, will be determined by the luck of the draw, which is part of what makes this annual project so fun for me. That, and my line-up of fifty-two stories this year is perhaps my strongest yet. AND It’s not too early to starting thinking about coming up with YOUR OWN list of fifty-two stories for 2014 and join in the fun. Fellow blogger Dale at Mirror With Clouds is also doing the short story “Deal Me In” project with me this year.

Well, that’s about it for me (even though I will likely read a few random and unanticipated stuff too, as always). What about YOU, though? What will you be reading in May? I’d love to hear about your reading plans…

“The Great George Helmoltz Hoax of 2013″

A recurring character in the fiction of Kurt Vonnegut is the oft-beleaguered high school band teacher, George Helmholtz. He appears in four stories that I can immediately recall (there may be another or two) – “The Ambitious Sophomore”, “The Kid Nobody Could Handle”, “The Boy Who Hated Girls” and, from the collection “Look at the Birdie,” the very funny story “A Song for Selma.” In this last story, reference is made to a musical composition by the sixteen-year-old genius, Al Schroeder, entitled “Hail to the Milky Way.” Unlike the song from the title of this story, there are no lyrics mentioned to go along with “Hail to the Milky Way.” (although we are treated to the humorous acknowledgment that, with the furthest star in The Milky Way being “approximately ten-thousand light years away” and that “if the sound of the music was to reach that star, it would have to be played good and loud.”

At The Kurt Vonnegut Memorial Library Book Club meetings here in Indianapolis, we have previously wondered about this Helmholtz character, and whether he was based on a teacher Vonnegut knew at Shortridge High School, or if instead he was a conglomeration of several real people. At our most recent meeting last week, Bill Briscoe, the library’s historian, uncorked the revelation that he “had done some research” and that there was a music teacher during Kurt’s high school years named Herman George, upon whom the character was based. We were all fascinated and unaware – as yet – that Bill was reeling us in. For my part, the name was perfect – I could see Vonnegut combining Herman George & that famous name from science, Herman Helmholtz, into George Helmholtz. That would be so Vonnegut.

Bill went on to explain that he had even located Herman George’s son, who related that most of his father’s personal effects had been “lost in a fire,” but one thing from his papers that survived was a few stanzas of a song, “Hail to the Milky Way”(!) It should be mentioned here that Bill is also our club’s unofficial poet and our meetings usually end with him sharing his latest work (related to the book we’ve read that month). He brought the song fragment (though charred around the edges and encased in a plastic sheath) with him to the meeting and read the three verses it contained:

Hail to the Milky Way
And to the Sky we pray
While stars do dance and play
Hail, hail, all hail, we say!

Our galaxy we tout
It’s great without a doubt
It has such big clout
hail, hail, all hail, we shout!

Our universe is dear
Nothing else comes near
And so we raise our beer
Hail, hail, all hail, we cheer!

Bill passed around the alleged “artifact” but, as far as most of us were concerned, the jig was up. How conveniently the burned edges of his “historical document” circled the perimeter of the verses, and few could mistake the well-known style of our poet in residence. When the document reached me, I inquired aloud, “Are you sure this isn’t a Briscoe original?”

So, some fun was had and nobody got hurt. I think this would have be a meeting that Kurt Vonnegut himself would have heartily approved.

(Below is a photo I snapped of this historical document – sorry for the focus issues…)

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A couple other examples of Bill’s work from prior meetings:  A tribute to Breakfast of Champions (extra credit goes to anyone who can identify the four initials on the olives); and, at bottom, a visually impressive poem from our meeting on Hocus-Pocus.

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The Old Switcheroo

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(above: Haruki Murakami)

There’s really just no way to write this post without spoilers, so be forewarned.

Sometimes, when I’m having trouble deciding what book to start next, I’ll re-read a short story. I was in this situation Sunday and found myself once again turning to Haruki Murakmki’s collection “Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman.” Murakami is an author of whom I was wholly ignorant just a few years ago and only discovered after joining the book blogging community (thanks, if I’m remembering correctly, to the blog, Dolce Bellezza). The story I chose, somewhat randomly, was the oddly-titled “New York Mining Disaster.”

I remember the first time I read this being reminded of the old song by the Bee Gees “New York Mining Disaster 1941.” I think we had this single in the house when I was a kid – maybe it was a b-side of something else, I don’t remember. I thought at the time it was a tribute to a real tragedy but, checking today, it seems it was totally fictional. I always thought that was such a weird title for a pop song. It was. It is also a title of a “weird” short story. Weird, but great.

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The story (as it appears in the collection I own) features an unnamed narrator, who starts by describing a strange friend who likes to go to the zoo during “typhoons” and sit in front of the animals and drink beer. We learn this friend is important to the narrator because the friend owns a suit that the narrator (who doesn’t own a suit) has had to borrow in order to attend a funeral. What is odd is that the narrator, being only in his late twenties, has had an unlikely number of similarly-aged friends die recently. It’s an incredible run of misfortune, especially considering their ages. What can it all mean? The narrator apologizes for not owning a suit himself, but rationalizes that he’s afraid “…if I buy funeral clothes, it’s like saying it’s OK if someone dies.” One of the deaths is a suicide, but the others are accidents

“Unlike my first friend, who killed himself, these friends never had the time to realize they were dying. For them it was like climbing up a staircase they’d climbed a million times before and suddenly finding a step missing.”

Another oddity of the narrator’s friend is that he “trades in” his girlfriend for a new one every six months. To the narrator, the new ones are indistinguishable from the old ones. They’re all essentially the same girl. At this point, the reader is surely trying to decide what ties all these things together. I know I was. Another episode involves the narrator and his friend discussing television, and the friend says, “One good thing about television, you can shut it off, and nobody complains.” He does so, and when they switch it back on later, as a man talks on the screen he says, “See? He didn’t even notice we switched him off for five minutes. When you switch it off, one side ceases to exist.”

The final episode involves the narrator at a New Year’s Eve party, where he meets a mysterious young woman who claims that she knows someone who looks “exactly” like him. He says he’d like to meet such a person, but she replies that it would be impossible. The man is dead. She claims she killed him, but is evasive as to how, joking at one point that she threw him into a beehive. She does say, however, that “It took less than five seconds. To kill him.” As their conversation ends, midnight is falling. This is almost the end of the story.

The scene fades out and is replaced by some trapped miners awaiting rescue. They snuff out their lamps to conserve air and struggle to listen for sounds of approaching rescuers over the creaking of supporting beams. Murakami writes:

“They waited for hours. Reality began to melt into darkness. Everything began to feel like it was happening a long time ago, in a world far away. Or was it happening in the future, in a different, far-off world? Outside people were digging a hole, trying to reach them. It was like a scene from a movie.”

I loved this ending. Somehow the trapped miners and the world of the narrator are related, but we don’t know how, exactly. It’s that kind of mystical air I’ve come to expect – and enjoy – in Murakami’s writing. I also enjoy endings that are open to interpretation on the reader’s part, as this one certainly is.

The real shock for me, though, was after reading the story this time, I looked it up on-line and discovered that, when originally published in The New Yorker, the passage with the trapped miners was placed at the beginning of the story. This seems a far less effective method than was presented when he included the story in the “Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman” collection, where it came to rest at “its proper place” at the end of the story. I’m glad I only read this story after “The Old Switcheroo” had been completed.

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Have YOU read this story? What do you think of Haruki Murakami?

(below: the first couple pages of the story as it appeared in the New Yorker (snapped on my iPad from the digital edition); you can see the part with the miners is placed at the beginning)

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“Look at the Birdie” by Kurt Vonnegut

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(above: Vonnegut pictured in the 2009 N.Y. Times review of “Look at the Birdie”)

From the 2009 NY Times review of this collection:
“For the last many decades of his life, Vonnegut was our sage and chain-­smoking truth-teller, but before that, before his trademark black humor and the cosmic scope of “Cat’s Cradle” and “Slaughterhouse-­Five,” he was a journeyman writer of tidy short fictions.”
Full review link:

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(I found the above (Spanish translation) cover of the book online – pretty cool, huh?  Not sure what the significance to the book is, however… anybody know?)

I read this collection for the Kurt Vonnegut Memorial Library book Club meeting here in Indy later this week. Just when I think our group has pretty much read everything ever written by Vonnegut, a new book seems to pop up. This collection of stories was probably the weakest (only by Vonnegut standards, though) of the ones I’ve read, but it still contained several gems, some that I will likely re-read someday.

“Look at the Birdie”

“I use the cat-over-the-wall technique, a technique I recommend to you.” - Felix Koradubian, the “murder counselor” in the story “Look at the Birdie”

The title story in this collection was quite humorous. It begins with the narrator sitting in a bar telling “rather loudly” about a man he hates. He unwittingly draws the attention of a self-proclaimed “murder counselor.” Is this man insane, or just a drunken fellow bar patron? A former psychiatrist (albeit one practicing without a license), this murder counselor’s “cat-over-the-wall” technique is quite effective, both for murder AND blackmail, as our narrator finds out.

Another favorite was the somewhat long-ish “Ed Luby’s Key Club.” In it, two honest and hard-working, salt of the earth citizens, Harve and Claire Elliott, run afoul of the well-”connected” Ed Luby. Luby is a former bodyguard of Al Capone who now, for all practical purposes, runs the old mill town of “Ilium” (a locale used frequently in this author’s works). In danger of being framed for murder, Harve and Claire had “only one thing to cling to – a childlike faith that innocent persons never had anything to fear.” Will innocence triumph against the odds in its battle with a corrupt infrastructure? Will Harve be able to get “his side of the story” fairly heard? This story provides a roller-coaster ride on the way to learning those answers.

As a card carrying member of The Rat Race myself, I found the second story, “Fubar,” particularly good. (In the parlance of the story, that’s an acronym for, of course, “fouled up beyond all recognition” (these stories were written with hopes of being published in the popular magazines of the day). The protagonist of this story, Fuzz Littler (yes, that’s really his name) “became Fubar in the classic way, which is to say that he was the victim of a temporary arrangement that became permanent.” A member of a gigantic corporation’s Public Relations Department, (as Vonnegut was himself, during a stint with General Electric in Schenectady, New York) Mr. Littler was the odd man out when his department ran out of room in “Building 22.” Temporarily reassigned to building 181, and later to an office in the basement of building 523 (also known as the company gym!). He labors in obscurity and boredom until one day he achieves the rank of supervisor and learns he will be assigned a “girl” of his own. The young and beautiful Francine Pefko (another name that appears elsewhere in Vonnegut’s fiction) brings some light and happiness into his dreary existence. Whether for just a day or longer is left somewhat up in the air at the story’s end.

The best story, in my humble opinion, was the one called “King and Queen of the Universe.” In it, a young couple, Henry and Anne - seventeen years old – are leaving a dance (at “The Athletic Club”) in formal clothes and cross a city park to the garage where they have parked. Somewhat fearful of running into trouble, they instead run into a man who, though he’s first described as “what seemed to be a gargoyle on the rim of a fountain,” means them no harm, but only wishes them to aid him in perpetrating a little white lie to his invalid mother, in hopes that she will die thinking her son has become a success. The best intentions of both still lead to tragedy, though, and the two youngsters learn something of “real life” and not the sheltered fairy tale existence they have only known thus far. A happy ending is in store though, as after their trouble in the park, “Henry told Anne he loved her. Anne told him she loved him, too. They had told each other that before, but this was the first time it had meant a little something. They had finally seen a little something of life.”

There are fourteen stories and all – the above four were my favorites, though.  Have you read this collection?  Which were your favorites?  What is your favorite all-time story by Vonnegut?

(below: The Indianapolis Athletic Club – likely the basis for the club described in “King and Queen of the Universe.”  There IS a park across the street from it, but I doubt today’s ‘inhabitants’ would be as friendly with a young couple late at night as those in Vonnegut’s story were)

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“A Perfect Opportunity to Say Nothing”

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“Foster” – a short story by Claire Keegan

I just read the charming short story, “Foster,” as part of my 2013 short story reading project. I drew the four of diamonds, and diamonds is the suit for new or “unknown” (at least to me) authors. I found this story in my anthology “The Best American Short Stories of 2011″ edited by Geraldine Brooks. The inclusion of this story is somewhat confusing since Keegan is an Irish writer. It was further confusing since it was published in the February 15, 2010 edition of The New Yorker; maybe being in The New Yorker qualifies it, but what happened to 2011? Weird, but not the point.

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***Spoilers Follow***

The story “Foster” (later expanded into a short novel) is told from the perspective of a young girl from a poor family. For primarily economic reasons she is sent away for the summer to live with a childless aunt and uncle on their farm. At first, she is very nervous about her new surroundings but grows to love her time there and her temporary “foster” parents.

She learns bits of wisdom from the couple. Early on, the wife tells her’ “…there are no secrets in this house. Where there’s a secret there’s shame, and shame is something we can do without.” She also learns to speak properly, and that the couple had a son of their own who had died after falling into a well.

The husband is a man of few words who, when told by another woman who watches the girl for them that “She’s a quiet young one, this” curtly replies “She says what she has to say, and no more. May there be many like her.” One time when talking with the child, he senses that she doesn’t know how to answer him and says, “You don’t ever have to say anything. Always remember that. Many’s the man lost much just because he lost an opportunity to say nothing.”

Though young, this advice must’ve sunk in, for later in the story and near the end of the summer tragedy nearly strikes as she herself falls into the well. Though quickly rescued and no real harm done, her “foster” parents are understandably concerned (how could they let this happen? Again!). She catches a slight cold and is still coughing and sneezing a little when she must be returned to her actual parents – something she is not looking forward to.

The remnants of the girl’s cold are of course noticed by her parents, who are not wholly satisfied the foster parents’ explanation that “nothing happened,” and that she “just caught herself a wee chill.” After they leave, her true parents question her further:

“What happened at all?” Ma says, now that the car is gone.
“Nothing,” I say.
“Tell me.”
“Nothing happened.” This is my mother I am speaking to, but I have learned enough,grown enough, to know what happened is not something I need ever mention. It is my perfect opportunity to say nothing.”

I liked this story a lot. At 27 pages it was longer than most of the stories I’ve read for this year’s project, but once I started reading, I hardly noticed. Are you familiar with Claire Keegan? What have you read by this author? Any subscribers to The New Yorker out there? I’ve thought about subscribing in the past since I know they publish short fiction regularly, but have never followed through.

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Zenia: Aphid of the Soul

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I’m a “play by the rules” kind of guy. Always have been. I was raised that way. I think most people are, and it’s a good thing, too, as I think that having a convincing majority of us willing to abide by the rules of society provides a necessary kind of “herd immunity” for civilization to work. Sure there are outliers, but as long as their numbers are few, civilization can tolerably survive. That’s for most of us. Some of the more unfortunate among the rule-followers, however, have a non rule-follower that is part of their lives, wreaking the havoc that “their kind” predictably cause. Zenia, the infuriating villainess of Margaret Atwood’s “The Robber Bride” doesn’t follow the rules…

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Do you know what an aphid is? If you’re into gardening or botany you certainly do. Aphids (pictured above) are sap-sucking pests that cause more damage to domestic plants than any other species. Even if you’re familiar with them, you may not have ever seen a picture of them. Most are hard to see with the naked eye unless you look very close. When I was young, I learned not to harm ladybugs. I didn’t know why then, but it is because they dine on aphids. The three main female characters in “The Robber Bride,” Charis, Tony, and Roz, could have used a friendly ladybug in their lives since, in my favorite quotation from the story, Atwood describes her character as “Zenia, aphid of the soul.” I loved that.

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I don’t remember exactly how this book found its way onto my reading list. I do know that – after reading Atwood’s dystopian masterpiece, The Handmaid’s Tale, last year – I definitely wanted “some more.” (Yes, I’m picturing Oliver Twist meekly holding out his porridge bowl now – as you should be!) :-)

The Robber Bride follows the lives of three women: friends Charis, Tony, and Roz. The lives of all three have been scarred by an association with Zenia, a mysterious woman for whom it’s difficult to know which of her many accounts of herself are true – if indeed ANY are. One of Zenia’s apparent hobbies is “stealing” the men of other women, even her “friends.” Her interest in these men is fleeting however, and it seems her real reason for stealing them might be “just because she can.” It’s a way to show her ’dominance’ I think. It reminded me a little of that old Dolly Parton(!) song, Jolene:

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
I’m begging of you please don’t take my man
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Please don’t take him just because you can

Are you old enough to remember that one? (Oops! My research just turned up the fact that Miley Cyrus did a cover version of the song more recently, so maybe “everyone” remembers it!)

Anyway, this novel was a great exploration of how good people (the rule-followers) struggle to deal with bad people (the rule-ignorers). After a dramatic beginning, where the three friends are eating lunch at the trendy “Toxique” restaurant only to have Zenia “return from the dead” and re-enter their lives, I was off and running and thoroughly enjoyed the book, even though I expect most readers of this book are women (indeed, one blogger mentioned that “you’d be hard-pressed to find a male fan” of Atwood’s work). I’ll happily count myself among that minority!

What have you read by Atwood? I’ve read the aforementioned The Handmaid’s Tale and a short story Significant Moments in the Life of My Mother, which I loved and mentioned previously on my blog here. Any recommendations on what I might read next? As always, I’m willing to be guided…

(below: gratuitous insertion of an illustration from Dickens’ Oliver Twist – “please sir, I want some more.”)

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