I had to share my little pile of story collections--one in progress and two waiting for attention, but more about those at the end. This week's story from Tove Jansson's Travelling Light is another wonderful story--curious and a little funny. Funny perhaps on the surface in a humorous funny way but upon reflection funny in a not so very comfortable and disconcerting sort of way, too.
"My grandson and his wife had long been trying to persuade me to go south and pay them a visit. 'You need to get away from the cold and the dark,' they said, 'and the sooner the better.' Meaning: before it's too late."
I can see my own mother in this story actually--she is not fond of traveling much anymore either. And if she does have to fly stopovers are hard--they are tiring and confusing--and she can happily do without. Without the stopovers or without the flying maybe. So the narrator of the story, an older woman, has just landed in some small city, which her son and his wife thought would make for a good break from a long journey. A refreshing night in a comfortable hotel to rest.
So the plane lands, the travelers disembark into the darkness of night and the woman realizes she has left her hat on the plane and you know how unhelpful airlines can be sometimes. They won't let her go back through to get it. It's not clear really where she is, but somewhere outside her home country as she cannot speak the language and has difficulties communicating. And then there is the problem of having to enter a new country and declare how much money is being carried. Finally she lets them count and take what they need and tries again to explain she needs her hat--even drawing a picture of it. They bring their lost and founds out and in tired exasperation just chooses one similar that is not her own.
By now, the arrivals hall is empty of passengers and she is tired and hates traveling and now must deal with a taxi. Where to? Good question. She cannot seem to recall the name of the hotel. The driver is waiting for instructions, she is feeling out of sorts and sees that on the hat there is a label with a name and address.
"It was a comfort, a foothold. A genuine communication. I tried to shake my fatigue. When I get tired everything slips away from me."
And as she says, what could be more natural than showing the name on the hat? And off they go towards the city. A destination, any destination at this point is a relief. When she knocks on the apartment door, a man opens and when he sees the name on the hat--amazing. It belongs to a cousin who was staying there not long ago. He invites her in for a cup of tea and what could be more welcoming?
"The room was a small one. In the light from the single table lamp I got a general impression of pleasant homely untidiness: books, newspapers and piles of papers all over the place. It was very cold."
Imagine being in such a weird situation. It is not really so very strange--or no stranger than the story of a novel maybe. There are little hints about what might happen. It's a strange place, this city to break ones journey. The man obviously loves to read--so many books about. And he says he's very proud of his library, that he watches for books to come out and goes to queue for it. Everything is of interest. He is a writer of sorts, just articles. He has no phone, but he is willing to sleep on the floor and offer this older lady his bed for the night since she cannot remember where her reservation is.
And then there is a knock on the door.
I won't tell you what happens next. A tease for you to go and look for Tove Jansson's stories! I loved this one just like the others. She creates so well this sense of dislocation, a feeling of the surreal and miscommunication. It seems such a simple little story and certainly can be taken as is, but I like how, too, you can read little meanings in it as well.
Last year I mentioned that there was a wonderful collected edition of stories that were originally printed in those "Best of American Short Stories" anthologies and that I was lusting after it. I bought it and think it will be an excellent addition to my shelves (and too you can see the 2015 edition of the Best American Short Stories in the pile, too). 100 Years of the Best American Short Stories edited by Lorrie Moore contains only 40 stories and not all years are represented. There are between three and six stories for each decade beginning in 1920 (actually one story by Edna Ferber from 1917) through 2015. I don't think I have read any of them, so it will be fun exploring. I think rather than trying to pick stories from each year they opted to pick the best of the best, which just goes to show you some of the books must have covered rather lean years when it comes to the short story form. I am hoping to read the stories over the course of the year, though I am not sure when I will begin.
I'm also starting to read Vanessa Gebbie's Storm Warning: Echoes of Conflict, which is the first book up in Caroline's War and Literature Readalong for 2016. I wasn't able to read any of the books last year, but I am planning on reading as many (and hopefully all as she has a great selection and a number of the books were already on my reading pile or reading list) this year as I can. Hope perfect that the first book is a collection of stories. Gebbie is Welsh and she has won a number of prizes.
"Storm Warning explores the echoes of human conflict in a series of powerful stories inspired by life with the author's own father, an ordinary gentle man who fought wand was decorated in WWII< but who suffered the after-effects for the rest of his life."
Discussion of the book begins February 29, so there is plenty of time to get a copy of the book if you'd like to read along, too. It is a sim book, less than 120 pages with 21 stories so many of them are quite short. More about these stories next month.
Next up in the Jansson book: "The Woman Who Borrowed Memories". Isn't that a great title?