Not long ago I was thinking that my short story Sunday posts had outlasted their usefulness. I have been doing them for a few years now. I think they are almost more for me than for anyone else these days. If I know I am going to write about whatever I happen to be reading each week (short story-wise of course), then I am more apt to keep up on my reading--whether it is reading one particular collection or just dipping into a whatever happens to pique my curiosity. I love reading short stories. I love coming across something unique and special and all in one small compact story. But writing about my reading seems to be increasingly difficult for me. As much as I love blogging (it is more the conversations about books and the comments from other readers that I enjoy), I often toy with the idea of taking a break--short or permanent, I'm not really sure. But then I come across a book that inspires me once again, that I get excited about and it all feels fresh once more. Every October a new batch of "Best of . . ." books comes out. Sometime I cave in and buy a stack of them, sometimes I talk myself out of any of them (I can always rely on the library to help me out) and sometimes I splurge on just one. Of course it had to be The Best American Short Stories 2015 edited by T.C. Boyle.
This year marks the centennial of the annual collection of the years best published short stories. It is a nice, hefty volume of twenty of the best stories published between January 2013-January 2014. I have this little fantasy (well, less a fantasy and more a desire) to own the entire run of volumes, but it would be quite a project to try and find each volume going all the way back to 1915. Besides, I think the stories in the earliest volumes might be a little iffy (in terms of quality) and they are probably expensive and hard to find. And I can find the whole run of them at the library where I work. But I do have a few of the editions. Of the twenty stories five of them appeared in the New Yorker, so I should have read them all. Interestingly T.C. Boyle's favorite story, "Madame Lazarus", was also a favorite of my own when I read it, too! (I have fallen behind in my New Yorker reading and have not been writing about the stories I have read--part of my growing reading/blogging inertia it would seem). It is stories like that one that make me want to continue with my weekly short story reading.
And stories like Joan Silber's "About My Aunt" that originally appeared in Tin House (a magazine I used to subscribe to, but let the subscription lapse . . . maybe I should think about getting it again). In his introduction Boyle talks about the daunting task of whittling down the field of possibilities from the 120 finalists to just twenty and looking for stories that "grabbed him" in some way. If he expected anything, he expected to be surprised--"because surprise is what the best fiction offers" and that is what Silber offered me, too. I am also looking for something that sets a story apart--something that will click in my head as different and unique--a perspective I might not have thought of maybe or a feeling or emotion that I have also encountered even if the character is the polar opposite of me or of people I know.
Silber's story is ostensibly about a woman named Kiki who in the 1970s travels to Istanbul for a holiday and stays. She marries a Turkish man but lives by her own rules and follows her own paths--independent and often bohemian. Ultimately she returns to the US and lives a life filled with knowledge and enlightenment. The story is narrated by Kiki's niece who looks up to Kiki and admires her, has a son who loves her--yet the two, while similar in many ways, never quite come together in a mutual understanding. Each thinks the life they lead is the best way to live and can not quite come together to agree that the other has made the right choices--the happiest way to live. The story is narrated by one woman and see Kiki only through her niece's eyes and through her own comments. But it is still easy to see what is important to her and how she wants to lead her life. What is said and unsaid is really very illuminating and I love how Silber brings to life these two characters in a way that is very full yet not through the most direct manner. To give you a taste of Silber's style and a peek at the personalities of both women:
"I had my own life to live. And what did Kiki have? She had her job making deals between the very rich and the very poor. She had her books that she settled inside of in dusty private satisfaction. She had her old fabled past. I loved my aunt, but she must have known I would never listen to her."
I think I am more like Kiki than the niece. Maybe is is my age or the things that make me most happy--learning and books and the fact that I am (ultimately) just fine on my own. Probably the niece would feel sorry for my boring life, too. (But that's okay--I wouldn't want hers either).
A well executed story. One in which the characters come alive for me. They might not reflect exactly how I live, but I can imagine it. I won't finish the collection by the end of the year, but this is one I will happily dip into until I read all the stories. I am now trying to talk myself into waiting to buy 100 Years of the Best American Short Stories edited by Lorrie Moore, which is a compilation of the best of the best of the stories published over the past century. Not every year is represented and some years have several stories, and like any collection it is likely quite subjective in the choices but it looks like a keeper. Give me a little time and I will have rationalized why I should have a copy now rather than waiting.