"The Bigness of the World"

“The Bigness of the World” (University of Georgia Press, 2009; paperback 2010), by Lori Ostlund, is a wonderful collection of short stories. Each story is a precise, pointed, original, small gem. I love being surprised, and these stories are surprising, not in a strange, avant garde or experimental way, but in the sense of being unpredictable, yet very believable. The characters are intriguing; the reader feels she knows them, and yet doesn’t quite know them after all. And the characters care for each other -- family members, lovers, friends, even strangers -- but often find out they don’t know each other very well either. This feeling is captured in the last line of the story “And Down He Went”: “[A]t each turn, the people we hold close elude us, living their other lives, the lives that we can never know.” Ostlund grew up in Minnesota and has lived in Spain, Malaysia, and New Mexico, and traveled to many other places; many of her characters are also originally from Minnesota, and her stories take place in some of the same places she has traveled. This makes for a combination of a sort of Midwestern, calm politeness with a traveler’s stolid adaptability to the vicissitudes of world travel. But the characters also have a tendency to be unhappy, and the (mostly lesbian, mostly fortyish) couples have a tendency to be on their way to breaking up. Many of the characters are teachers, and as an English instructor myself, I enjoyed the humorous yet deadpan depictions of the importance of correct grammar to some of these teacher characters. I find myself wanting to write in detail about each of these eleven compelling stories, to illustrate how terrific they are, but I also don’t want to give away all the twists and turns and surprises, because I really hope you will find this book and read these stories for yourself. But I will list some of the titles, which will give you a sense of the unpredictability of the stories: “Talking Fowl with My Father,” “Nobody Walks to the Mennonites,” “Upon Completion of Baldness,” and “The Children Beneath the Seats” are a few of them. This collection, Ostlund’s first book, won the Flannery O’Connor Award for Short Fiction, and has received several other recognitions. On a more personal note, I am pleased to note that Ostlund is now a resident of San Francisco.

"The Ask"

I was only vaguely familiar with the name of the author Sam Lipsyte, until I recently read a review of his new novel, “The Ask” (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2010) and decided to check it out. I think what drew me in was the main character’s having a job in the development office of a university (which the character, Milo, calls Mediocre U.); I am, as I have written before, drawn to academic novels. The academic aspect turned out to be a minor part of the story, and at first I wasn’t sure how I felt about the character or the narrative, both of which could be off-putting, but I kept reading and became absorbed in the story. Milo is a classic sad sack/loser type. He is smart and somewhat talented, and is not a bad guy, but he has a gift for undermining his own success. True, he has been dealt some bad (but nothing close to catastrophic) hands, but he isn’t very good at coping with them. He is funny and very self-aware, and despite his ongoing propensity for getting into sticky and awkward situations, he is good company. Somehow he disarms the reader. And by the rather anti-climactic but quietly satisfying ending of the story, he has more or less accepted the negatives and made the most of the positives in his life, which include his very young son, his return to painting, and an unexpected financial windfall. For some reason, this character and this novel remind me of a sort of gender role meld: the character and the novel itself are brash and trying to be tough, but are actually very vulnerable and aware of human foibles and fallibilities, and at times could even be considered “sensitive.” Yin and yang? Or simply a sign of the times: less stereotypically gendered literature? (I am fully aware that I too am stereotyping gender roles for literature as well, but those -- as I have written about here before -- are often, although far from always, very easily discernible in fiction, for better or for worse.)

Feminist YA Titles

Jessica Stites' article in the Fall 2010 issue of Ms. magazine, "Kick-Ass Girls & Feminist Boys," states that some YA (Young Adult) fiction "offers fabulous fantasies of how the world should be." The article acknowledges predecessors such as "Little Women," "Anne of Green Gables," and the Laura Ingalls Wilder books. It then praises current YA fiction that addresses girls' fall-off in self-esteem at puberty. Such books provide role models and heroines; they are "full of girls performing amazing physical feats...YA can be both escape and succor." Many YA novels also address issues that often affect teens, such as rape, eating disorders, racism, sexism, and war. Ms.' YA recommendations include Suzanne Collins' "The Hunger Games," Nancy Garden's "Annie on My Mind," Patricia C. Wrede's "Dealing with Dragons," Nnedi Okorafor's "The Shadow Speaker," and Scott Westerfeld's "Uglies." I of course believe in the power of fiction to educate, support, console, and encourage, and I applaud YA authors who address teen issues in a responsible, egalitarian way. I do sometimes wonder about books that are too shaped by an issue rather than by literary goals, but fortunately the best books can and do combine the two.

My Perfect Morning at the (Independent!) Bookstore

I have several times blogged about the importance of supporting independent bookstores, most recently in my 12/1/10 post urging readers to buy their holiday gifts at bookstores. I have been following my own advice the past couple of weeks with several visits to two of my favorite indy bookstores, Books, Inc. (in Laurel Village in San Francisco), and Book Passage (in Corte Madera, near where I live in Marin County), where I have purchased several book gifts with great satisfaction. As an example of the joys of shopping in indy bookstores, let me describe a recent morning visit to Book Passage, a beautiful, spacious, airy, bustling, friendly bookstore. I took my gift list, but I had some uncertainty about what to buy a certain relative. I browsed a bit, found a couple of possibilities, but then asked the wonderful Janelle a question about a certain genre of books, to get some leads. She immediately started asking me further questions about the person and what she usually liked to read, began thinking, and eyeballed certain shelves for ideas. She had an ah-ha moment of inspiration and took me to the book, explaining why she thought it might be appropriate. It was perfect! Then she had another idea, and again explained the story and why it might be a good match. Again, it was perfect! Both were books I had very peripherally heard about, but had never read, didn't know much about, and wouldn't have thought of on my own. Janelle did all this cheerfully, with genuine engagement and apparent pleasure in the task, and never made me feel she was in a hurry to finish or do something else. To me, she epitomized what is wonderful about independent bookstores: she was extremely knowledgeable about books, helpful, and generous with her personalized attention. Another bookstore employee wrapped my gifts (such a boon for a terribly clumsy -- and a bit lazy -- gift wrapper like me!) I browsed a little more, and then finished my morning at Book Passage with a delicious latte and the newspaper in their cafe. Now that is my kind of morning!

Jane Austen's Birthday Today

I have posted several times -- most recently two days ago -- about various aspects of Jane Austen and my love for her work. Today I simply want to point out that she was born on this day in 1775. As I think about her life, I am sad that it took so long for publishers to recognize her as an author, and to publish her work; I am even sadder that she only lived long enough to write six complete novels. She died at the much too early age of 41; if only she had had another twenty or thirty years or more to write! But most of all, I celebrate and am deeply grateful for her unparalleled novels, a gift from her to us over two centuries later.

The Writer's Almanac today has a piece on Austen which is worth reading. The link is below. If it doesn't work, just Google the Writer's Almanac for today, 12/16/10.

http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/

Guest Blog: Romance, Regret, and Book Gifts

On 7/8/10, I wrote about how my friend "Z" connected a certain author ("A") with a certain time in his life and a certain romantic relationship (with "Y"), because he and "Y" had read "A"'s work together and even met her at an author event. After splitting up with "Y," "Z" no longer read "A"'s work, because of the association. "Z" has now kindly written a guest post with further thoughts and experiences related to connections between certain books and certain romantic relationships (see below). I think you will find the post as intriguing as I do; the intersections of literature, romance, regret, and memory are most evocative. Thanks, "Z"!

From "Z":
"Over the years, amid my growing library are books given to me by past loves and lovers. They all share one thing in common: a note from them on the front-piece or the first page. Some signed off "with all my love," or "love you." Others referred to a shared intimacy or moment. A confession is in order though. Depending on the memories of how these relationships ended, I have done several things to these books. I left several alone because I enjoy reading their sentiments from time to time and recall the exact circumstances of receiving the book. Other books fared less well. The most extreme are the one or two (or three??) I tossed out or sold because I couldn't stand to look at even the book's spine sitting there on one of my shelves, reminding me of love's failures, or rather love's disappointments and regrets. The compromise I reached with the other books was to tear out the page on which the sentiment was written. It wasn't because they were less emotionally connected, but it was simply because I like the book and wanted to keep it, minus the reminder of who had given it to me. However, I remember all gifted books, so the missing page with its sentiments in some ways is all the more present by its absence."

Shields on Austen

Readers of this blog know that my most-loved author is Jane Austen. It's not original, but that's the way it is. I have read each of her six completed novels over and over and over. A few years ago, I picked up a small (185 pages in a petite format) biography of Jane Austen by the late and much-mourned Carol Shields (Viking, 2001), one of my favorite contemporary writers (see my 2/20/10 post on Shields). A couple of days ago, emptying a bookshelf to move it for some flooring work at our house, I came across it again, and smiled to myself. I read it before with such delight; what could be better than one wonderful writer writing about another? Shields obviously loves Austen as well; she writes with such affection and insight about her life and work. This lovely book is part of a lovely series, the Penguin Lives; its subjects are writers, artists, and historical figures. The books are brief and accessible but not dumbed-down; they are written by some of the best contemporary authors. Writers have obviously been carefully matched with their subjects. Besides the Shields book, I have read Jane Smiley's contribution to the series, on Dickens, and thoroughly enjoyed it. Other books in the series include Edmund White on Marcel Proust, Elizabeth Hardwick on Herman Melville, Nigel Nicolson on Virginia Woolf, R.W.B. Lewis on Dante, Janet Malcolm on Anton Chekhov, Hilton Als on James Baldwin, and Mary Gordon (another of my favorite writers) on Joan of Arc, to name just a few. Now I think I will go and re-read Carol Shields on Jane Austen...a pleasure to look forward to!