Our latest lightning-lashed hardcover is a head-exploder from end to end—on the fiction front there’s Thomas McGuane and Aimee Bender, Deb Olin Unferth and Ryan Boudinot, ill-fated river trips and lovelorn robots and Hollywood super-agents bent on revenge; on the nonfiction side there are amazing accounts of upheaval and rebirth in Tehran and Mississippi and Mexico City and Riverside, California. There is full-color art all the way through, too, and a special section of Australian Aboriginal fiction that is so good you won’t believe it. This one is overstuffed in the best summer blockbuster fashion—let it into your life!
Dave Eggers is an American writer, editor, and publisher. He is best known for his 2000 memoir, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, which became a bestseller and was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for General Nonfiction. Eggers is also the founder of several notable literary and philanthropic ventures, including the literary journal Timothy McSweeney's Quarterly Concern, the literacy project 826 Valencia, and the human rights nonprofit Voice of Witness. Additionally, he founded ScholarMatch, a program that connects donors with students needing funds for college tuition. His writing has appeared in numerous prestigious publications, including The New Yorker, Esquire, and The New York Times Magazine.
As far as short fiction goes, McSweeney's has always been one of favorite magazines, partly because do not shy away from stories which contain fantastic elements. In the most recent issue--McSweeney's 41--we have twelve short fiction stories, four of which are written by Aboriginal Australian writers in a section highlighting Australian short fiction; each piece in the issue is illustrated. The issue also contains two excerpts from McSweeney's titles and two nonfiction essays.
Of those twelve short stories, two contain speculative elements. Steven Millhauser's "American Tall Tale" is one of my favorites in the issue. The story tells of Paul Bunyon's lazy, skinny brother, James Bunyon, and the sleeping contest which takes place between them. Considering that I've never before heard a modern retelling of the tall tales I grew up with, the plot of this story was refreshing to me, and I enjoyed the lightheartedness of the story. It's a humorous piece and an entertaining exploration of sibling rivalry written in the style of those larger-than-life tall tales they teach to elementary schoolers.
Ryan Boudinot's "Robot Sex." This story concerns the life of a robot who works in an office and communicates regularly with two exiled orangutans in space who are plotting with the rest of their species to take over the world. The robot's life is much like ours, adjusted only slightly; he speaks like a wannabe hipster--an attempt at humor which sometimes fell flat--but copulation for his kind is illegal and involves finding a "chop-shop owner who's willing to look the other way for a couple of grand (pg. 170)," after which they weld, solder, and cross-connect their processors. He meets a lady robot, and trouble ensues. What I like about it is that the technology is not viewed as destructive; rather, people are viewed as destructive toward technology.
"The Wolf and the Wild" by Jess Walter is possibly my favorite story in the issue. Although the main character, Wade, is a rich man convicted of a white collar crime, I could relate to him. Sentenced to volunteer work first as highway cleanup and then as a tutor for a school district, Wade's attempts at redemption seem sincere. Because I read this story while working as an after school care provider in an elementary school also overly concerned with predators, I related to Wade even more. As one of the children repeatedly crawls on his lap during story time, Wade is forced to constantly push the child away, nervous that one of the teachers might see and think Wade had pulled the child onto his lap himself.
In Thomas McGuire's "River Camp," two childhood friends with a tumultuous past--one of them has slept with the other's wife, and they both resent each other's lives--go on a camping trip with an increasingly unstable, eccentric guide who begins to unravel. The story's tension is palpable, and the two characters' personalities are so well established it was easy to believe that they could be real people.
The hard Las Angeles agent, Richter, in Henry Bean's "The Virago" also strikes me as a realistic character. By the end of the story, I felt I might know her, that she might be someone out there who I could one day encounter. Again I was surprised at the sympathy I felt for the rich woman afraid of losing her good fortune; having overheard a table of four young women calling her names, Richter becomes obsessed with destroying the careers of each of them. Already on a downward spiral, this obsession only speeds that spiral up, and her desperate attempts at keeping her place in the entertainment world makes you feel for her. An inside look at a character who ordinarily would be treated as a black-and-white villain.
We're also given the villain's point-of-view in Deb Onlin Unferth's "Stay Where You Are," though the majority of the story is told from Jane's point-of-view. In the story a married couple, Max and Jane, with a tendency to stay constantly on the move are captured by a South American gunman. As he speaks Spanish and the couple does not, they don't understand him, but the reader knows that the gunman has captured them in an attempt at impressing his group, thinking that they are Americans. Jane is tired of traveling all the time, wants to settle down, but Max cannot stand the idea. Jane's struggle consumes her even in the midst of the situation at hand, which literalizes her longing to break free.
Aimee Bender's "Wordkeepers" is a humorous flash fiction piece on our society's reliance on technology, a young teacher and his students' inability to find words for things because of that reliance, and his relationship with his much more old-fashioned neighbor. Bender's ability to inhabit her stories is unrivaled; her narration feels like it comes from a person separate of her.
The stories in the Aboriginal Australian portion of the issue are also short, but they each provide an insight into Australian culture, a culture I am not too familiar with. In Tony Birch's "The Promise," an alcoholic whose wife has recently left him attempts to get her back, though not to change. The promise of the title is a promise he made as a young man, both to his wife and to anyone who asked of his plans for the future, to build a church. This is a story of hitting rock bottom, of transformation, and I appreciate Birch's ability to put the reader into the mind of his main character.
Ellen Van Neervan-Currie's "S&J." Two young Aboriginal women pick up a hitchhiker. When one of them takes up with that hitchhiker, the other is faced with her own jealousy. The prose is well-written, sparse and to the point, and the distance of the narrative from the main character reflects her reluctance to admit to herself and others both her ethnic background and her sexuality.
Tara June Winch's "It's Too Difficult to Explain" is about a well-known runner on his own downward spiral. Though the prose here is often beautiful, the light coming in through Vincent's window "the color of brittle toffee," it was difficult for me to inhabit the character. In Melissa Lucashenko's "Tonsils," it is much easier to inhabit the main character and narrator's head, as their inner thoughts are relayed to us. In this story, a parental figure who has taken in an abusive mother's gay daughter is forced to deal not only with the daughter's increasingly poor health--she has a chronic cough, but the doctors will not remove her tonsils--but also the appearance of the daughter's mother. I enjoyed the bits of Australian culture this story gave me, but it isn't one that will stick in my mind.
McSweeney's always curates a worthwhile collection, and this one is no exception, a very perusable mix of short fiction, creative non-fiction, and illustrations. I didn't feel that there was one standout story in this collection, but there isn't much filler, either - put a copy in your bathroom or on your coffee table, and your guests (and guest poopers) will thank you.
Less a book but more book than magazine. Each issue is a new design. This was not my favorite issue, but it was a good book. The stories in this issue were more somber than they usually are, but there were still some moments when I laughed and there was the still the usual wit and erudition. Some of the stories stood out and som of them I will—have already—forget about. If you are picking and choosing from this volume I recommend the stories by Aimee bender, Jess Walter, Ryan Boudinot, Tony Birch and Tara June Winch. The last five stories in the book, including the final two recommendations of mine, are all aboriginal writers. I love that McSweeney’s purposefully steps into writer communities that are not (moderately) accessible to the usual American reader. It’s a solid enterprise McSweeney’s is providing and while this was not the best issue I was sad to have it finished.
McSweeney's is always good. This issue has some great stories by Thomas McGuane and Jess Walter, and an excellent collection of Aboriginal Australian writers (Tony Birch and Melissa Lucashenko are particularly good). Also some great non-fiction by J. Malcolm Garcia about two sisters who are free after sixteen unnecessary years in prison.
a pleasant issue of mcsweeney's, nothing outlandish in the package but good writing overall. nothing which stands out as a negative, and i quite enjoyed the selection of aboriginal australian stories.
Visited McSweeney's Pirate Store 826 Valencia in SF several times. Very cool. Dave Eggers is a champion of literacy. This collection of short stories was given to me for Christmas.
This would have got 4 stars for the Deb Olin Unferth story alone, but most of the other stories were good too. The one about Paul Bunyan was really enjoyable, as was River Camp.