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. 

The King of Jazz by Donald Barthelme

Love Supreme.

Beginning in medias-res and consisting almost entirely of dialogue, "The King of Jazz" by Donald Barthelme is another gem in the author's impressive oeuvre. Jazz music and literary postmodernism are like two peas in a pod, both sharing an affinity for experimentation and complex structures. The interplay of various voices and musical sounds in the text creates a syncopated rhythm, reminiscent of the spontaneous energy found in jazz music. Yet, beneath this seemingly improvised cadence lies the author's meticulous craftsmanship, skillfully playing with language to evoke such an effect. 

Now that Spicy MacLammermoor has died, Hokie Mokie believes that he is the newly crowned King of Jazz. Can we pause for a moment and acknowledge how ridiculous these names are? I love it. Hokie Mokie has barely any time to revel in this newfound glory before he is quickly challenged by another musician from Japan. An intense jam session takes place, each musician trying to outshine the other with their electrifying, vibrant and soulful instrumentals. However, these adjectives are inadequate to capture the essence of the beautifully complex and and rhythmic jazz techniques during the competitive showdown. The reader can only imagine what the music sounds like through the different perspectives and commentary of those playing or listening at the show. For example, one of the audience members attempts to describe Hokie Mokie's music as a "famous 'English sunrise' way of playing. Playing with lots of rays coming out of it, some red rays, some blue rays, some green rays, some green stemming from a violet center, some olive stemming from a tan center-". Of course, this is mere poetic embellishment and Hokie does not sound like this at all. Paradoxically, the author is lightheartedly poking fun at the fictive representation of music, which cannot be captured in words, while also utilizing language in this refreshing way to convey these impressions. 

This is just a joyful, funny and rollicking read from start to finish.

You can read this story HERE.

Chablis by Donald Barthelme

Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene \ With beaded bubbles winking at the brim.

"Chablis" is the first short-story to appear in Donald Barthelme's collection entitled, "Forty Stories." Similar to some of his other early works, it seems he's teetering on the brink of discovering his unique literary voice and postmodernist flair. Certain moments resonate with quintessential Barthelme charm, particularly through his witty humor. However, overall, the story adopts a fairly straightforward narrative approach, lacking the surreal experimental style for which he will later be renowned.

The domestic nature of fatherhood and the challenges of raising a young child is at the heart of this story. Through the narrator's internal reflections, we are drawn into a world of palpable anxiety, where the parental concern feels deeply relatable. There is a wry, sardonic tone to his anxious thoughts, which contribute to the story's darkly humorous appeal. For instance, worrying if the baby will stick a utensil into an electrical outlet or get sick from eating Crayolas. This familiarity strikes a chord of recognition, especially among parents. The baby is more emotionally attached to the narrator's mother whereas he struggles with establishing his role as a reliable and competent father. Since these heteronormative domestic roles are highly gendered, he seeks to make himself useful and regain some confidence in the area of raising this child. Hence, the flashback to his reckless youth when a near-fatal car accident ensued from his intoxicated state, serves to complete the narrative arc. This poignant reflection offers him a newfound sense of confidence, suggesting that just as he managed to navigate a crisis in the past, the challenges of parenting might prove surmountable after all.

On the Deck by Donald Barthelme

All aboard!

"On the Deck" might be one of Donald Barthelme's earlier stories because it feels as if he is still in the process of developing his signature postmodern style. We are presented with a brief sketch of eccentric passengers aboard a large sea vessel. Their destination? Unclear. There is a caged lion, a Christian motorcycle gang, a pretty girl wearing a sun dress and various others. There's even some guy named Mitch sitting in his Camry. I chuckled. The sea captain makes a brief appearance with a random burst of non-sequiturs: "I would have done better work if I'd had some encouragement. I've met a lot of people in my life. I let my feelings carry me along." Presumably he is speaking to another passenger or maybe it's a monologue? Again, unclear. 

We catch fleeting glimpses of these people, and the narrative transitions from one character to the next, guided by their proximity to each other while stationed on deck. The narrator shows up in the final scene, a tender moment that is strangely ambiguous. Thus, there is a random quirkiness to this story but it doesn't really add up to much. 

At the Tolstoy Museum by Donald Barthelme

Tolstoy and his wife had 13 children together. Poor Sophia.

Now that I am becoming familiar with Barthelme's general proclivities, it seems that I prefer his more experimental and playful side. "At the Tolstoy Museum" makes for a good companion piece to "The Flight of Pigeons from the Palace" since both contain a somewhat linear narrative, deadpan humor and a dash of surrealism. Similarly, they possess a charmingly innocuous quality, leaving only a faint imprint.

This story's formalistic style is a tour guide through a museum dedicated to the famous Russian author. The narrator informs us from the very beginning that museum patrons are prone to weeping as they stare rapturously at thousands of pictures of Count Leo Tolstoy or read his writings on display. It is difficult to tell if this a satire of sycophants or a genuine paean to his literary greatness. Maybe it's both. 

As the reader is taken along this tour, the narrator inserts random yet amusing facts about Tolstoy, including commentary about the museum architecture. He even interrupts the narrative flow to recount a story he once read by Tolstoy about a bishop visiting an island of hermits to teach them about Christianity. Whether or not Tolstoy actually wrote this story (probably not), is irrelevant. These digressions, tangents, fragments, collages and intertextuality are all part of the Barthelme's postmodern style. Yet, this story is far less experimental and surreal than one might expect. The ending of the story coincides with the ending of the tour, comprising of a single sentence in parentheses: "(Closed Mondays)." 

Well played Donald, well played. 

The Flight of Pigeons from the Palace by Donald Barthelme

Annie Jones, the Bearded Lady.

I suppose it is Donald Barthelme week on this blog. We'll see how it goes. 

After reading his magnificent short-story "The Glass Mountain", anything else by the author was bound to pale in comparison. "The Flight of Pigeons from the Palace" is slightly amusing but feels very light, lacking the author's penchant for biting satire or irreverent social commentary. By Barthelme standards, this is a fairly straight-forward narrative, replacing the surrealism and experimental prose with a series of  self-contained vignettes. The absurdist humor remains but it is subdued, more somber in tone.

The narrator is a circus ring master, a P.T. Barnum type character that is recruiting various acts for his show. The venue will be an abandoned palazzo once it is all cleaned up. Each section provides a brief description of the acts, perhaps a little backstory and how they might contribute to the show's spectacular wonders. There is the Numbered Man and the Sulking Lady. He might just mention an act in passing without any explanation, like the Singing Sword and a Stone Eater. Or, one section might contain a single sentence, such as: "We auditioned an explosion." How does that work exactly? That's not important because the author is going for quirky and absurdist humor. During opening night, Edgar Allan Poe will be one of the main attractions. Maybe he'll perform a live-reading of one his short-stories. Now that would be worth the price of admission!

So, there's a whole lot of nonsense going on in this story and I suppose that's intentional. Barthelme embraces the absurd, the irrational and the uncanny through the lens of postmodern magical realism. 

There are different performances such as "The Sale of the Public Library", "Theological Novelties" and "Cereal Music." Again, it is all very silly and one can imagine the type of showmanship and hilarity that would ensue with some of these titles. 

The narrator also interrupts the flow of the story to drop some profound philosophical nuggets (a common Barthelme technique): 

"It is difficult to keep the public interested. The public demands new wonders piled on new wonders. Often we don't know where our next marvel is coming from. The supply of strange ideas is not endless." 

This self-reflexivity is another recurring feature in Barthelme's work with art often commenting on itself and drawing attention to the artifice of fiction. In postmodernist theory, there are no new ideas and therefore the artist's goal is borrow, recycle, rearrange and make it new through innovative techniques. The author is successful in his endeavor to present a short-story in playbill form, but I'm not sure there is enough depth here for it to be memorable or worth revisiting. Still enjoyable though.

The Glass Mountain by Donald Barthelme

"Don't look down, don't look down..."

It's a Donald Barthelme double feature this weekend! "The Glass Mountain" is unlike any short-story I have encountered before--the entire narrative structure consists of 100 individual bullet points! It's clever, hilarious and surprisingly poignant without ever feeling like a mere gimmick. Not many authors could pull off this narrative technique, let alone deconstruct the fairly-tale genre in the process. It's a masterful literary achievement that I can't recommend highly enough, even for those readers who might not be familiar with postmodern literature. Despite the disjointed narrative framework, the essence of the story remains quite accessible, enriched with delightful tongue-in-cheek humor. The narrator is making this perilous climb up the glass mountain using only dual plungers or as he calls them, a "plumbers helper." The jeering audience and his "acquaintances" (see, he's new to city) watch from below, interjecting like a Greek chorus:

11. "shithead"

12. "asshole"

24. "Dumb motherfucker."

It's crude but very funny stuff.

The pathos of this absurd postmodern fairy-tale would be diminished if the sentences were structured into proper paragraphs. The sequential numbered sections are central to the metaphorical conceit of the hero's mythical quest to save the princess in the castle located at the top of this glass mountain. It is another joke as the author is playfully highlighting the knights' deluded pursuit of fame and glory as a superfluous endeavor. Ironically, as a reader, the numbers are going up but you're moving down as you read the story (ascending and descending simultaneously). The numbers seem to following a semi-linear sequential order but the narrative flow is constantly being interrupted by seemingly random anecdotes, quotes, diversions, tangents. For example, in the middle of the list, the actual fairly tale interjects and breaks up the narrative. Each unit of text can also represent the story's building blocks along with the each metaphorical step the narrator takes up the glass mountain. Ultimately, the numbers are both arbitrary and essential to separate layers of meaning within this hyper-fragmented reality. 

The story is also quite cinematic as it captures the different aspects of New York city (from junkies to old people walking dogs to people cutting down trees that look like "white meat") along with the grand spectacle of these knights scaling the towering glass mountain. The narrative perspective shifts like a camera lens, changing focus, zooming in and zooming out from different camera angles. Working within the postmodernist tradition, Barthelme's mosaic technique, self-reflexivity, repetition and the use of intertextuality show up again. He is also questioning the validity of Signs and Symbols in literature, which immediately brings to mind Nabokov's short-story with the same title. Once again, Barthelme is fond of intertextuality, engaging with various source materials to challenge conventional literary modes. For example, there is a bizarre yet moving scene with a group of nightingales with a traffic light attached to their legs:

71. The conventional symbol (such as the nightingale, often associated with melancholy), even though it is recognized only through agreement, is not a sign (like the traffic light) because, again, it presumably arouses deep feelings and is regarded as possessing properties beyond what the eye alone sees." (A Dictionary of Literary Terms)

72. A number of nightingales with traffic lights tied to their legs flew past me.

Although the author humorously critiques symbolic interpretation, they also reveal an inherent paradox: the simultaneous urge to resist and embrace it. Moreover, the reference here could be Keats' famous poem "Ode to a Nightingale," but it could also just be an empty symbol/signifier. This further highlights the tension between fiction and reality, between coherence and meaning-making. For those with a keen analytical mind, there is a plethora of rich symbolism to scrutinize over--or you can simply choose to overlook it altogether. Either way, it's an entertaining yarn with a shockingly hilarious climax, completely turning the traditional fairy-tale ending on its head. 

Truly, this was easily one of the best short-stories that I have read all year. 

You can read this story HERE.

Critique de la Vie Quotidienne by Donald Barthelme

Elle Magazine - January, 1965.

Congrats, you're back in my good books again Donald. Sometimes it can be really hit or miss with you but "Critique de la Vie Quotidienne" is quite an achievement. Maybe even a great achievement in your short-story writing career. In contrast to "The Party", which I reviewed recently, the radically disruptive and experimental style in this story does not inadvertently cause the narrative to become incoherent babble. His post-modernist literary aesthetic tends to focus on fragmentation by utilizing a kind of kaleidoscopic perception of reality. He is interested in deconstructing conventional narrative forms and  pushing fiction beyond its own limitations. There is often a certain self-reflexivity in his work, highlighting the art of fiction as a way to challenge traditional forms of representation. He revels in the process of composition and radical technique, eschewing traditional plot or character development. Personally, this approach can often feel overwhelming and inaccessible. Yet, "Critique de la Vie Quotidienne" seems to find that sweet spot where Barthelme's fragmented prose and intertextuality merge smoothly into a satisfying reading experience. Plus, the irreverent and darkly absurdist humor really shines. 

This story offers abundant subtext and nuance waiting to be uncovered. It can be seen as a satire of bourgeois domesticity, a parody depicting the cliches of an unhappy marriage where alcoholism serves as a coping mechanism against the ennui of conventional responsibilities such as the 9-to-5 grind and child-rearing duties. The title is a reference to an academic research study by Henri Lefebvre, a French Marxist philosopher. In essence, this story becomes a metanarrative, an intertextual revision of Lefebvre's work within a postmodern cultural context. The intertextuality and mosaic narrative structure creates a palimpsestic effect--constantly altering the original text, revealing multiple layered meanings. 

For example, individualism and subjectivity is replaced by an amalgam of pop culture, magazines and various media. This is most prevalent in Wanda, the narrator's ex-wife, who is obsessed with reading Elle Magazine:

"Wanda empathizes with the magazine. "Femmes enceintes, ne mangez pas de bifteck cru!" Elle once proclaimed, and Wanda complied. Not a shred of bifteck cru passed her lips during the whole period of her pregnancy. She cultivated, as Elle instructed, un petit air naiif, or the schoolgirl look." 

Wanda has been stripped of individuality, she is a two-dimensional cliche of recycled phrases and social behaviors dictated by a popular fashion magazine. The narrator also falls into a similar category, where the enormous influence of mass media has cultivated a collective consciousness. Their conversations are contrived and predetermined simulations; a recycling of cliches, which lack any genuine emotional connection. They are so oversaturated with information where they have become a simulacra version of themselves. In the digital age of social media and TikTok, does this not sound familiar? 

Furthermore, this intertextuality allows Barthelme to draw upon a wide variety of scattered materials and references. Then, he rearranges these disparate elements into a type of pattern, emphasizing the tension between fiction and reality. These collected fragments become the story material, revealing the limitations of language as a means of representing a fragmented reality. Paradoxically, "Critique de la Vie Quotidienne" feels both inchoate and weirdly cohesive within this fractured narrative framework. 

You can read this story HERE.

Mr. F is Mr. F by J.G. Ballard

"I' want to...Pump you up!" - Little Giants

J.G. Ballard has a very twisted mind, that much is certain. I chose this short-story based entirely on the odd title that immediately grabbed my attention. Ballard's titles often carry thematic weight and "Mr. F is Mr. F" is no exception, hinting at the mirror effect, duality, identity crisis and tautology. The "F" stands for Freeman, which is an ironic play on words, since the protagonist is the complete opposite of a free man. He is trapped in a nightmare scenario, aging backwards in a perversely Curious Case of Benjamin Button. I might be inclined to classify this story as a combination of science-fiction and horror. The Ballardian escape from contemporary society shows up again, a race against the clock before subjectivity is erased. This is a disturbing, creepy and suspenseful tale with a twist ending that would probably make O. Henry proud.

The Party by Donald Barthelme

Who invited Mr. gorilla to the party?

You've gone too far this time, Donald. I'm usually down for your unique brand of post-modernist surrealism but unfortunately, it just came across as nonsensical tomfoolery. Granted, this was your intention here, to present an unreality through shattered glass, but it just wasn't an enjoyable reading experience for me. 

Perhaps a closer reading of the text would reveal the nuances regarding representation within a fictional reality, consumerism, mass media, advertising, pop-culture (one of the dinner guests is dressed up as King Kong), simulacrum, desocialization, the failure of language or the loss of communication in our contemporary existence. There's a lot happening underneath the the surface here but the problem is wading through the thick layers of absurd confusion. 

You can read this story HERE.

The Cop and the Anthem by O. Henry

"Park benches are the silent witnesses to the ebb and flow of human existence." - Anonymous

I meant to review "The Cop and the Anthem" last weekend during my O. Henry marathon/binge-fest but never got around to it. Better late than never. Surprisingly, as far as I can recall, this is the first story of his that I've come across that doesn't completely rely on the twist ending. Sure, it enhances the dramatic irony of the protagonist's fate and brings the narrative full circle in terms of thematic resonance but it would still be a solid story on its own. Human suffering, social inequality, and the potential for redemption are key themes that are intertwined in typical O. Henry fashion.

Soapy, a destitute soul, faces the looming threat of freezing to death on the harsh streets of New York City as winter approaches. Determined to find shelter, his desperate plan hinges on committing a petty crime or misdemeanor to secure a warm bed in prison on the notorious "island," likely Rikers. However, fate intervenes, thwarting his every attempt, which produces a darkly humorous thread throughout the narrative. The reader is intended to empathize deeply with Soapy, especially as the narrative crescendos with his poignant resolution to earnestly strive for an escape from poverty. The story's cynical twist ending feels both inevitable and sorrowful, serving as a stark commentary on the realities of life for those living on the margins of society.

Also, I learned a new word: eleemosynary. It means relating to or being dependent on charity; charitable. Cool.

You can read this story HERE.

The Rise of Capitalism by Donald Barthelme

Das Kapital.

Donald Barthelme is at it again but this time he is explicitly deconstructing the short-story form through a fragmented consciousness. On the surface, it might seem like experimental nonsense but I assure you, there is method to his madness. 

Split into nine different sections (one of them is merely a list of the top 5 "The Achievements of Capitalism"), the fragmented narrative is a parody of representation on the subject of capitalism. Each paragraph is an independent perspective building upon the preceding one to form a incoherent whole. Ironically, the search for meaning becomes meaningless within the cacophony of contradictory discourses. In the age of social media like twitter feeds/wars where information is shared, absorbed, contested, disseminated and regurgitated via sound bites, this story feels eerily prescient. There is a narrator named Rupert who seems to be the guiding voice throughout the story but even he is reduced to abstraction. The sociopolitical commentary is scrambled, demystified and recycled in parodic fashion. Even banal reflections of Marx appear alongside absurd anecdotes, ranging from the King of Jordan in his palace listening attentively to the ham radio or an account of Balzac going to the movies that causes a chain-reaction where his mistress's husband ends up dead. These jarring interludes are quite funny, further highlighting the author's caustic wit and unconventional humor. 

The constant subversion and rearrangement of theses ideological perspectives is disorienting, rightfully so. Perception is flawed and Barthelme seems to be asking the question: With the the total breakdown of language in contemporary society, are reality and truth merely fictional abstractions? If this story serves as a response, the end result is fragmentation, degradation and chaos. After all the literary shenanigans and hijinks, the final section turns towards the reader, encouraging them to filter through the nonsense and formulate their own thoughts about capitalism, especially regarding how to fight it. According to the narrator, "fear is the great mover in the end." Take it as you will. This story showcases Donald Barthelme at his most playful, whimsical and erudite. 

And I'm here for it. 

You can read this story HERE.

Capgras by Tommy Orange

Kokopelli.

I am slowly making my way through this anthology of 'Indigenous Dark Fiction' called Never Whistle at Night and so far it has been a mixed bag. I deliberately selected this story based on the author's acclaim and having enjoyed his debut novel There, There. Tommy Orange has quickly established himself as one of the hottest indigenous writers on the literary scene, so my expectations were pretty high. Unfortunately, this short-story was a complete letdown, leaving me baffled as to its inclusion in this anthology. 

The title, Capgras, refers to a psychological disorder in which individuals perceive others, usually loved ones, to be imposters. Great, sounds intriguing. Too bad this concept is barely explored, a wasted opportunity at establishing some real tension, drama and horror elements within an indigenous context. Instead, it's a slow burn with a dull linear plot that drags on and on without any intended purpose. The protagonist is an indigenous author doing a book tour in France and he brings along his wife and son. He has a nervous breakdown at one of the book signings, there some references to mythological Kokopelli and the story just sort of stumbles towards a lackluster ending. The most interesting and heartfelt moments emerge during the scenes where the father and son are riding around France on an electric scooter. Then again, I have no idea what the takeaway is from this story. Any allegories or metaphors went completely over my head. Hopefully this author can redeem himself with his sophomore novel that came out earlier this year.

The First Kiss by Clarice Lispector

Mon amour.

This is a very unusual story. 

It begins with a tender and affectionate moment between a young couple as they share their first kiss (hence, the title). The narrator provides a cogent argument in the opening paragraph that jealousy is inextricably linked to love, so she asks him if he has ever kissed another woman before. Now, this is where one might expect his answer to follow certain narrative trajectory but the author subverts these reader expectations. Instead, we get a lengthy poetic flashback to his halcyon days during a school field trip where he locked lips with his first crush. But get this – it wasn't just any regular smooch fest. Nope, it was with none other than a gorgeously sculpted drinking fountain in the shape of a woman, looking all ethereal and elegant! Now, that's what I call a plot twist served with a side of whimsy. Additionally, his sensual experience with the statue contains plenty of sexual metaphors and innuendos. 

See what I mean? Very unusual. 

You can read this story HERE.

The Last Leaf by O. Henry

Until the last leaf falls...

By Jove, he's done it again! Among the array of stories I've binge-read this weekend, "The Leaf" is probably my favorite. Once more, O. Henry showcases his mastery of the unexpected with yet another cleverly crafted twist ending. Despite the clues laid out before me, I failed to make the intricate connections all leading up towards the poignant finale that took me by complete surprise. It's only a matter of time before he falters, right? Until then, I will savor his remarkable winning streak. 

Sue and Johnsy are both painters and share an apartment together in Greenwich village--are they friends or possibly lovers? It remains unclear. Behrman, an old artist living downstairs, is a seemingly disgruntled curmudgeon that claims he has failed and has yet to create his masterpiece. When Johnsy comes down with a serious case of pneumonia, she spirals into despair and believes that she will die once the last leaf on the tree outside her window falls. Sue becomes a caregiver to Johnsy but her health continues to decline. I will avoid spoiling the ending but themes of sacrifice and the transformative power of art remain at the forefront of this story. The author is keen to emphasize art's magical ability to inspire perseverance, and instill a sense of hope even in the most difficult times. 

You can read this story HERE.

Springtime A La Carte by O. Henry

Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

An intrusive narrative voice is the perfect vehicle for O. Henry to deliver his signature plot twist by playfully manipulating certain reader expectations. The opening sentence is fantastic and indicative of the narrators tendency to break the fourth wall by directly addressing both the reader and main protagonist while providing literary critiques on the art of writing: 

"It was a day in March.

Never, never begin a story this way when you write one. No opening could possibly be worse. It is unimaginative, flat, dry and likely to consist of mere wind. But in this instance it is allowable. For the following paragraph, which should have inaugurated the narrative, is too wildly extravagant and preposterous to be flaunted in the face of the reader without preparation."

The narrator's witty remarks and ironic commentary recur throughout the text, setting the humorous tone. They even offer life advice to the main protagonist who is also a writer, creating a sort of meta-narrative. Sarah is a typist who writes the daily menu cards for a fancy restaurant in New York but she also seems to be in the process of writing her own story at the same time. She is engaged to a farmer from the countryside but has not heard from him in several weeks. How will they ever find each other again? This story takes place during the late 1800s or early 20th century before phones were invented. I suppose she could always write a letter to her finance or return to the farm but then that would surely diminish the drama and tension. The narrator's intrusion allows them to exert control over the story, guiding the readers interpretation and cleverly steering the plot towards its inevitable twist ending. However, while the final outcome may not achieve the same "wow factor" as seen in the author's other works, it is still a solid addition to their literary repertoire.