Playing catch-up. Quick notes on the past three fiction pieces featured in The New Yorker:
3/1 – “Appetite“, by Said Sayrafiezadeh. A story about a line cook who wants a raise. And maybe a girlfriend. But that’s about it. Which made the story a little dull, a little depressing. The narrator’s voice was monotone throughout; he seemed aware that he was settling, that he was capable of more, that he even wanted more; but he made no movement toward change. He was resigned to the fact that his life turned out this way, and the best he could do was ask for more money at the job he thought he’d leave years ago.
3/8 – “Ask Me If I Care“, by Jennifer Egan. Wow: this is her second story published by The New Yorker this year (loved the first story, “Safari“). Did not love this one as much…sort of a coming-of-age-esque story set just outside of Los Angeles, about some misfit teenage punk-rock wannabes and their encounter with an older music executive. All seemed very intense and dramatic, which I suppose is what happens when your narrator is in high school.
3/15 – “The Knocking“, by David Means. The website’s description sums this one up well: “Short story about a man listening to his upstairs neighbor make knocking and hammering sounds”. But: the man is living alone, post-divorce; and his sarcastic observations and the powerlessness he exhibits and expresses made my heart hurt a little after a second read.
And this week…fiction by Junot Diaz. Terribly exciting. His short story collection and his (Pulitzer Prize winning) novel are incredible and delightful. However…this new story will have to wait, as I’m currently vacationing and relaxing and exploring and loving everything in and around and about Seattle. Bliss.