Kitty and Mack: A Love Story by Walter Dean Myers

🎵I was the third brother of five / Doing whatever I had to do to survive / I'm not saying what I did was alright / Tryna break out of the ghetto was a day to day fight 🎵

Even though it's refers to a nearby street in the same area, Bobby Womack's classic song "Across 110th Street" is continually stuck in my head while reading through '145th Street' by Walter Dean Myers. It is a collection of short stories all set in a vibrant, predominantly black neighborhood in New York City. Reminiscent of Spike Lee's Do The Right Thing, it contains a huge cast of characters that pop in and out of various interconnected storylines while vividly capturing the social realities and life experiences of contemporary African Americans. 

Perhaps my expectations were a little too high but I really wanted to enjoy this one more. I chose this particularly story at random and even though it was slightly disappointing, it is a relatively heartfelt depiction of young love, black masculinity, senseless violence, and shattered dreams. This is a very straightforward and slice-of-life narrative that borderlines on cliché while relying on certain cultural stereotypes. As indicated by the title, the romantic relationship between Kitty and Mack takes center stage. She's a top student at school and he's the star athlete, a talented baseball player destined to make the big leagues. However, fate intervenes and after tragedy thwarts Mack's aspirations, he retreats into himself, while Kitty's unwavering dedication to him only intensifies. His deliberate withdrawal from Kitty, both physically and emotionally, proves deeply distressing for her. The narrative attempts to navigate gender dynamics in a nuanced manner, perhaps aiming for a specific sense of authenticity. However, it failed to resonate with me on deeper emotional level, coming across as slightly contrived and overly dramatic. Nonetheless, there are much better stories within this collection that I hope to review soon.

Barn Burning by Haruki Murakami

Some men just want to watch the world burn.

In many Murakami stories, an underlying melancholy is often evoked by the narrator's personal reflections, sifting through an archive of memories and reshaping them to hopefully gain some insight into the past. As an unreliable narrator, a key passage in "Barn Burning" explicitly highlights this approach: "Though maybe that was a mistaken impression on my part: I have this convenient tendency to rework my memories." This "reworking" of memories is important to keep in mind when reading this story. Not only is it an effective narrative technique that Murakami utilizes to emphasize a fragmented consciousness but this blurring of truth brings these unconscious processes to light where the buried, hidden self is slowly revealed. This is a relatively simple story where nothing really happens in terms of plot but it contains plenty of psychological depth. Subjectivity, unresolved trauma, ennui, even split-consciousness: "Simultaneity, if there was was such a thing: Here I had me thinking, and here I had me observing myself think. Time ticked on in impossibly minute polyrhythms." Weed certainly has the ability to create an out-of-body experience. 

Through pensive contemplation, the narrator reflects on a friendship he once had with an eccentric young woman and her boyfriend, who tells him a strange secret while smoking weed together: he enjoys lighting barns on fire. The narrator is fascinated by this seemingly random act of arson, which shakes up his entire world view. He wants to understand "why" the boyfriend has this peculiar obsession with igniting barns into flames but he remains evasive, never providing a clear answer. So, what does this story all add up to? In the end, I don't think it really matters. The allure of this bizarre and enigmatic narrative lies not in resolution but in the intrigue of ambiguity.

Game by Donald Barthelme

Good for you, Jack!

It seems that April is turning into Donald Barthelme month, which is totally fine with me. "Game" highlights the author's clever use of repetition to reflect the narrator's surmounting anxiety and fragmented consciousness. Samuel Beckett's Waiting for Godot might be an obvious comparison although Barthelme's version is set within the historical context of Cold-War paranoia. The two men have been stationed underground in some kind of top-secret military silo for 133 days but their actual purpose is somewhat unclear and seemingly superfluous. They each have keys that launch "birds" (missiles) into the sky, capable of causing mass destruction to some unknown enemy. However, it seems that their superiors have forgotten all about them in this dark dwelling. Feeling like abandoned prisoners in some twisted social experiment, they pass the time focusing on their individual obsessions. Similar to a caveman, the narrator writes on the wall with a diamond ring, chronicling modern history. His friend, Shotwell, spends the majority of his time playing jacks and studying for his Masters degree in Marketing. Despite the dire circumstances, the absurdity of it all is quite humorous. 

The narrator is also fixated on stealing the jacks but Shotwell is unwilling to share and such an attempt would prove dangerous. Each of them is armed and have been instructed to kill the other if one of them acts out of line. They are trapped in a nightmare scenario, engaged in psychological warfare where time ceases to exist. Hence, there is an established sense of routine and a tacit understanding between the two men regarding the unwritten rules of this dangerous game. The political satire is spot-on as they are both caught up in the follies of bureaucratic nonsense. In this sinister game, there is no winner. While the specter of nuclear annihilation looms in the background, the ending presents a surprising moment of tenderness between the two men. In pure Barthelme absurdist fashion, the fate of humanity hangs precariously on whether or not the narrator can secure Shotwell's jacks. It is both darkly comical and hauntingly ominous.

On Seeing the 100% Perfect Girl One Beautiful April Morning by Haruki Murakami

Some pretty flowers for a pretty lady.

It's been a while since I've read anything by Haruki Murakami. Taken from his collection "Elephant Vanishes", this particular story reignited my admiration for this author. His delectable prose, elegant in its simplicity, imbued with an underlying melancholy, reminds me why I cherish his writing so deeply. Murakami has this unique gift for capturing the profound sorrow of loneliness and intense yearning for genuine romantic connections. Here, he takes the familiar "boy meets girl" motif and transforms it into a cosmopolitan fairy tale that feels fresh and emotionally evocative. The idea that someday we'll encounter our ideal partner and achieve total happiness is nothing but a fallacy. This might be true for some people but in most cases, it's a misleading notion and often cultivated by an overindulgence in movies or romance novels where love inevitably conquers all. Of course, one might indulge in the delightful fantasy of encountering this perfect person, and this narrative wholeheartedly embraces such a whimsical notion of reality:

"They were not lonely anymore. They had found and been found by their 100% perfect other. What a wonderful thing it is to find and be found by your 100% perfect other. It's a miracle. A cosmic miracle."

Or what about this: "Their heads were as empty as the young D.H. Lawrence piggy bank."

Ouch, total burn. Throwing D.H. Lawrence under the bus like that is some serious shade. Despite the narrators pensive reflections and claiming that this is a sad story, there is still a delicate balance of lighthearted humor. Missed connections, awkward encounters, anxious internalized monologues and experiencing nostalgia for something that never happened yet are other interesting aspects worth noting. For such a simple premise, there exists a complex psychological underpinning of perception related to idealized love. Murakami is a literary rock-star, a short-story virtuoso and a master of narrative technique. Each encounter with his work leaves me craving more. 

The Genius by Donald Barthelme

Monet's water lilies.

Here is another decent short-story by Donald Barthelme. Enjoyable for the most part but nothing spectacular; nor does it leave much of an impression. Once again, certain pieces from his early repertoire reveal flashes of what might be deemed as 'genius,' (sorry, I couldn't resist), yet they tend to fall slightly short of expectations, especially when compared to his later, more polished literary output. 

"Genius" is an effective satire of intellectual superiority and celebrity status but ultimately, doesn't really add up to much. The fragmented anecdotes of the protagonist's life are amusing and often quite funny. For example, when an interviewer asks him what the most important tool is for a genius, he responds nonchalantly: "rubber cement." An unexpected answer but there's also some truth to it and that's what makes it funny. Furthermore, the tangents and rambling philosophical discourse is pure Barthelme. There is one section where the genius pontificates at length about the shape of art, creativity, Monet's water lilies and seahorses. It comes across like the ramblings of a raving lunatic but it is this madness is engendered by the oppressive forces of contemporary society. For the genius and many other artists in Barthelme's work, creativity is an act of resistance. Through the use of satire and irony, it helps to shape a new reality. 

The Only Traffic Signal on the Reservation that Doesn't Flash Red Anymore by Sherman Alexie

Reservation dogs.

It's a very long title but highly effective in conveying the struggles of reservation life: sadness, alienation, stasis, displacement, marginalization, the lack of resources and infrastructure. This is a stellar piece of writing and now I can't wait to read more from Sherman Alexie. He is one of those authors that been on my radar for quite a while and it's a shame that it took me this long to finally get around to reading his work. The combination humor and heartbreak is difficult to pull off but somehow he makes it look it easy. The delicate balance of comedy and  unflinching social realism enhances the emotional impact of the story. Moreover, Alexie's dazzling prose jumps off the page with such ferocity and is such a joy to read. 

Taken from his superb collection of interlinked short-stories called "The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven" (such an awesome title), this particular story is interested in the vicious cycle of generational trauma and addiction. Rather than reinforcing the stereotypes of indigenous people as alcoholics, Alexie uses observational humor to critique the societal attitudes that perpetuate, emphasizing that historical and cultural context matters. Even in moments of tragedy, there is still hope and despite the cliché, laughter can sometimes be the best medicine. The humor does not come at the expense of these characters; rather, it humanizes them, adding emotional depth and creating powerful moments of resilience. 

Only Good Ones by Elmore Leonard (1961)

Valdez is Coming.

I am quite fond of Elmore Leonard's dialogue-driven and lean prose that is devoid of any unnecessary exposition. "Only Good Ones" is riveting right from the opening sentence, steadily building tension and suspense towards an explosive finale. He quickly sets the scene and launches directly into the action, allowing readers to gradually fill in the gaps of the story through snappy dialogue and different character interactions. There is a certain authenticity and rhythm to the colloquial speech patterns associated with frontier life, often advancing the plot and revealing character motivations. There are a colorful cast of characters, but no lengthy descriptions or backstory. Each of them is shaded with their own distinctive slang, quirks and and mannerisms. 

The author boldly subverts classic Western archetypes, unraveling the prevalent mythos of the genre. Particularly noteworthy here is highlighting the often forgotten or ignored history of anti-black racism. These Western pulps were designed as thrilling entertainments meant to captivate a broad audience with their high-octane narratives. They were meant to be consumed rapidly before moving on to the next one, like binge-watching a really good television show. Within their pages, one would encounter the familiar archetypes—the noble sheriff, the rugged cowboy, the villainous outlaw, the damsel in distress—typically depicted in straightforward moral terms. However, Leonard's approach to this genre stands apart--more specifically, in their complex themes, characters and moral ambiguity. 

The harrowing portrayal of racism and violence towards black people is a rarity within conventional Western narratives, making this story an anomaly. Beyond its gripping entertainment value, this narrative contains some unexpected depth, particularly in its nuanced handling of racism within the Western genre. Rather than glossing over or romanticizing historical injustices, the story confronts them head-on, offering a thought-provoking exploration of the complexities and consequences of racial prejudice in the Old West. In doing so, it elevates the narrative beyond mere entertainment, inviting readers to confront uncomfortable truths while still delivering an immersive reading experience.

The Tonto Woman by Elmore Leonard (1982)

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned."

We have a Western double-feature for you this weekend! Both are taken from the "Complete Western Stories" by the prolific and talented Elmore Leonard. Starting with "The Tonto Woman", this is a later work, appearing near the end of this wonderful anthology. There is a cinematic quality to Leonard's writing and it makes sense that many of his works have been adapted into movies or television. Yet, I can totally understand why nobody has dared to touch this story with a ten foot pole in fear of being labeled a racist and immediately cancelled. The story revolves around mischievous cowboy who meets woman that was captured by a tribe of "Indians" and branded with a face tattoo. After being released, she has been ostracized by her husband and society, forced to live alone on the outskirts of town. Hear me out. In the right creative hands, it's a great premise that could go in many different directions, especially as a feminist-take on the Western genre.  As a revenge tale with a strong female lead, it could be quite badass but not without offending the entire indigenous community, so scrap that idea. Her husband and his gang of ruffians are the real villains here. Instead, let's pivot towards are more nuanced approach--a quiet character study. This would explore the woman's trauma and her relationship with the cowboy fella. As an outcast himself, he is empathetic towards her plight and Leonard even hints at burgeoning romantic feelings between them. 

Adopting the "less is more" technique, Leonard's economical prose is taut and meticulously focused on delivering an entertaining story. He mixes together some sharp dialogue and vivid imagery to further enhance the overall cinematic effect.  This is a slow burn and Leonard exhibits remarkable restraint in delaying the main conflict. There are no big action scenes or shoot-outs; rather, it's a story about these complex and interesting characters. The elliptical writing style creates ambiguity, tantalizing the reader with just enough intrigue to leave you craving more.

Donald Barthelme Saved from Oblivion by Joyce Carol Oates

The Don Father.

I was going to cap off Donald Barthelme week on this blog with another one of his wonderfully idiosyncratic short-stories. However, it was pure happenstance that I stumbled across this amusing title by Joyce Carol Oates: "Donald Barthelme Saved from Oblivion." It somehow seemed very fitting, especially since Barthelme's popularity has certainly declined over the years and he probably isn't widely read as much these days. This is a real shame. I applaud Oates' effort in recognizing and also celebrating one of American short-story writers of the latter half of the 20th century who has largely been forgotten. In a kind of metafictional eulogy, she successfully pays homage to his postmodernist style by utilizing pastiche, irony, parody, collage, intertextuality and a fragmented structure that is split into various sections. For instance, one section is called "Anatomy of the Artist" that uses contradictory juxtapositions to try and understand his complex nature as a person and as a writer that often blur together: "Don is a genius. Don is an idiot savant. Don is a raving lunatic. Don is a saint. Don is a con-man." These witty and humorous anecdotes continue throughout the entire story, taking on various narrative forms. Unfortunately, the end result is a mixed bag that feels bloated and might have been more enjoyable if it was shorter in length. The rambling digressions can be somewhat tedious. 

Yet, Oates skillfully emulates Barthelme's signature aesthetic with great precision. The disjointed and fractured nonlinear storytelling is ripe with his hallmark contradictions, digressions, repetition, paradoxes and self-reflexivity. This dreamlike and hallucinatory atmosphere further contributes to the disorienting nature of the text. Of course, this wouldn't be a proper Barthelme story without the playful and absurdist humor, which Oates delivers in spades. If her name wasn't attached to this work, you might think that this story was published posthumously by the Barthelme estate. 

The fictional biography sections is where the story really shines, especially when DB shows up as a character. You can tell Oates had lots of fun writing this story and integrating some of his works into the narrative was also nice touch ("The School", "Glass Mountain" and "Chablis" to name a few). Readers familiar with Barthelme's oeuvre are sure to relish these references, adding an extra layer of enjoyment. As a celebration of the author and his creative vision, the story triumphs. However, Oates gets a little carried away with indulging in postmodernist aesthetics. It's a bit much at times and really bogs down the narrative flow.