The Barber's Unhappiness by George Saunders

"I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something."

It's a George Saunders double-feature today and both are masterpieces. 

Nobody in the short-story game today writes like George Saunders. Granted, his quirky style isn't for everyone but it just clicks with me. It actually took a while for me to warm up to him but now I'm hooked. His idiosyncratic style and off-beat humor is such a delight, so refreshing to read. Even more remarkable is that despite the general weirdness or surreal elements, these stories remain deeply human. It's the unexpected emotional pathos that took my surprise in many of his stories, including The Barber's Unhappiness, featuring an fairly unlikeable protagonist and yet by the end, it's difficult not to root for him.

Saunder's first-person narration is incredible. It’s not quite stream-of-consciousness, but we’re completely embedded in the barber’s inner world—his anxious thoughts, paranoia and deeply neurotic personality. He overanalyzes everything, spirals into self-doubt at the slightest provocation and constantly beats himself up for his perceived failures. It’s often very funny with an underlying sadness. The Barber is an everyman in the truest sense with many relatable concerns: aging, loneliness, indecision, missed chances, the fear that time is running out to find love or meaning. Who hasn’t been there?

His mind bounces from one thought to another, interrupting itself, doubling back, chasing tangents, and catastrophizing every possible outcome. Self-indulgent? Sure. But that’s exactly what makes it so relatable. Saunders captures that exhausting mental loop so accurately it almost hurts. You feel like you’re sitting in the barber’s head, watching the wild, frantic machinery of his thoughts spin out of control. When he meets a beautiful younger woman at his driving class, that familiar mix of hope, disbelief, and self-sabotage kicks into high gear.

Then we come to the end, which is just perfect. It’s ambiguous, tender, and tinged with hope. Suggesting that maybe, just maybe, things could work out for the barber and his new lady friend. No grand resolutions, no miracles. Just the fragile possibility of genuine connection.