I’ve started calling them the Literary Brat Pack of the early 21st century – Dave Eggers,
Jonathan Safran Foer, Nick Hornby, and the other authors that Eggers regularly manages to recruit for his fantastically creative projects that benefit his nonprofit organization 826. The latest addition to that lineup is The Book of Other People, an intriguing short story collection edited by Zadie Smith, a writer who has such a lucid style that even her introduction stays with you for days to come.
In this case, the beneficiary of The Book of Other People is the Brooklyn-based 826nyc which helps students aged 6-18 with their creative and expository writing skills. It’s nice to know that you could be furthering an admirable cause while engaged in a good read.
There were very few rules that the contributors were given in the call for submissions, Smith tells us. In fact, the instructions were simple: “Make somebody up and name your story after your character.” That’s it. Since this is a charitable project, each of the 23 contributors to this volume also wrote his or her short story gratis. As Zadie Smith writes in her introduction, “It is liberating to write a piece that has no connection to anything else you write, that needn’t be squished into a novel, or styled to fit the taste of a certain magazine, or designed in such a way as to please the kind of people who pay your rent. ”
The result of this creative freedom is an eclectic, magnetic collection that celebrates the place of character in fiction and that pays tribute to the short story. Character is so central to the vision of this book that Smith even chose to arrange the stories in alphabetical order (by character). Thus, the reader is given the creative choice to read them in the order he or she wishes. (Of course, because I am a good girl who always begins at the beginning, I started my journey into this world of characters by reading the first story first!)
When I say this is an eclectic collection, I really mean eclectic. Here are just a few examples of what you will find in this book:
David Mitchell’s “Judith Castle,” the first story, introduces us to a middle-aged woman in England who receives a phone call informing her that her lover with whom she is about to “consumate” her long distance relationship has been killed in a hit and run. Mitchell writes in the first-person and is generous with the dialogue, a technique that yields a memorable personality who stands up to William Faulkner’s reasoning that “It beings with character, usually, and once he stands up on his feet and begins to move, all I can do is trot along behind him with a paper and pencil trying to keep up long enough to put down what he says and does. ”
In Nick Hornby’s illustrated “study” of a writer’s life, “J. Johnson,” we are presented with the varying back of the book bio blurbs of a single author. If you have ever had to write an author bio, you will want to frame this gem of a piece and hang it above your desk for it is a delightful and humorous reminder of how we, as writers, are called upon to constantly reinvent ourselves for our audiences, depending on the nature of the published work.
Zadie Smith’s “Hanwell Snr” is a well-paced rumination on the nature of a father-son relationship, in this case a father who pops in and out of his abandoned son’s life “like a comet, at long intervals.” Though the story is about sons and fathers, it is told by a daughter, a choice that adds additional layers to this already textured story … therefore making a reader want to go back and read it all over again.
As usual, Jonathan Safran Foer’s ability to capture a nuanced voice (and thereby illuminate character) shines through in “Rhoda,” a monologue (you can imagine a tape recorded conversation a la StoryCorps between an elderly NYC Jewish man and his college-age grandson). Reading this story is like a treasure hunt – it invites readers to look for clues in dialect and intonation … all of which bring us face to face with a Holocaust survivor in the winter of his life.
My favorite, however, was Edwidge Danticat’s “Lélé,” a lyrical tale about dying frogs and two sisters living in their family home as adults. The story is written in the first person, from the point of view of the younger sister, a judicial witness following in the footsteps of her father and grandfather. Her sister, Lélé, is a pregnant late 30s-early 40 something who learns that her child has a terminal birth defect. Here is a piece in which the house – a wooden gingerbread house in Leogane, Haiti, filled with leather bound notebooks - is as much a character as the people who live in it.
There are enough short stories in this anthology to make readers of all persuasions happy. Truly, if all short stories were written with as much grace and heart as these, Stephen King would have no reason to say that many short stories he read while editing The Best American Short Stories 2007 felt “show-offy rather than entertaining, self-important rather than interesting, guarded and self-conscious rather than gloriously open, and worst of all, written for editors and teachers rather than for readers.” In fact, I came away from the book feeling that this collection is an antidote to King’s observation … and a statement to attest that indeed, the short story is alive and well today.
Related:
What Ails the Short Story, by Stephen King (The New York Times)
100 Best Characters in Fiction per Book magazine(NPR story, from )