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Time for me to get all pretentious (it's a rainy day, I'm allowed)
The last rainy day we had, I wound up reading four short stories. (There's something about the weather that just makes it perfect short-story-reading weather!) During the last one, my s.o. and I got to talking about how the majority of short stories all tend to be poignant and sad (or at least aiming for that), which makes sense when you're thinking about packing the maximum amount of emotional punch into a limited amount of text.
I really like short stories, partly because from a time standpoint it can often be very hard for me to commit to a full-fledged novel, but also because of that emotional punch; it always feels like a lot of payoff for a "bite-sized" story - at least, assuming the short story manages to succeed at poignant emotional punchage.
I'm hard-pressed to think of the last happy/upbeat short story I read. I think it was Guy de Maupassant's The Necklace, though that's more of a comedy and I wouldn't exactly call the plotline a happy one. The delivery is certainly upbeat, though. (I really like The Necklace.) I guess Isabel Allende's Dos Palabras (Two Words) is a... happy one? But it's still very poignant and moving, and doesn't have that upbeat vibe that The Necklace does. Allende's story is one of my favorite short stories, ever (I first read it in the original Spanish years ago and man, that's depressing, because my Spanish is shot to hell now), and I've linked to it on my lj previously. If you haven't read it, I highly recommend you do.
Those are the only two I can think of, though. None of the four stories I read on my last Rainy Short Story Day could be considered happy, at all. (I mean, two of the four stories were by Raymond Carver, and if you know Carver, well. You know.)
I actually hadn't read Carver before, but had been really itchy to read What We Talk About When We Talk About Love because of its exquisite title. I didn't even realize I had a copy of it in one of my fiction anthologies, ha! (This is what happens when you buy humongous books and never read them.) So anyway, I wound up reading I Could See the Smallest Things and the aforementioned What We Talk About... I found the former a little too obtuse. The latter less so, and I enjoyed it a lot more, but I'd be lying if I didn't say I was a little... underwhelmed? I mean, it's Carver's most famous story, so I guess I was expecting more out of it.
There are definitely aspects of both that I like - Carver has a gift for turning the most mundane little things into something of much deeper meaning, and his dialogue, too. His dialogue is fantastic. It's just so charged with this undercurrent of meaning, and what's best is it actually sounds like real people talking. It's not striving to be clever (which, mind, I am also a big fan of when done well and in the right type of story), it's just very, very real. I just get hung up on the deriving meaning from it. But maybe what it ultimately is is that I'm just not as big on minimalism as I think I am? I mean, Carver's stuff is hardcore minimalist. I do like open-endedness and things being left for me to decipher on my own, but I think I'd appreciate a little more... direction, or something. At the end of it I'm still left unsure of exactly what Carver is wanting to say.
Maybe it's the sort of thing that'll take me a few years to get. Same thing happened with Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea. (I don't understand why English classes make you read that book at any point in high school. Barely anyone at that age is able to understand or appreciate what the book is talking about, my high school self included.)
I followed Carver up with Dorothy Parker, who everybody should read because she is witty and fun and sharp as a fucking pike, I mean, man, that woman had one hell of a quick tongue. I hadn't read Parker's short stories, only her poetry, and at the s.o.'s encouragements Big Blonde was my third story that day. Definitely a switch from Carver; clever narrative and more narrative-driven period. Still not happy, though. I guess there's kind of a sad, very dark humor in it, which is kind of Parker's thing anyway. I enjoyed it enough. Big Blonde doesn't exactly leave me thinking about things, though - which is weird, considering it lends itself pretty readily to feminist discussion about idealizing courting and marriage and romantic relationships. I guess it's because all the themes/questions that could be derived from it have already been in my head at some point or another, and at the end of the day it isn't really about those things. More than anything it's a story about a sad woman, and was much more character-driven than any of the other stories I read that day. Considering my love of character-driven work, it came as a surprise to my s.o. that it wasn't my favorite.
My favorite was the last, and that was Albert Camus' The Guest. (It might surprise some of you to know that despite Camus' presence in TEF, I actually haven't read that much of him.) I think ultimately what made The Guest my favorite was the impact. It really delivered on emotional impact for me, and I still can't quite explain why. It just struck me as the most poignant and the ending really stuck with me and made me think. Considering Camus and his whole, you know, existentialist thing, I suppose it shouldn't really be a surprise. (Slight aside, Justin O'Brien did a fantastic job on the translation. You know how you can tell when it's a good translation? When it doesn't sound like it ever existed in another language.)
I would highly recommend everyone read Camus' The Guest. My second rec would be Carver's What We Talk About When We Talk About Love. Big Blonde is good too, though I'd recommend Parker's poetry/quotes and quips more than anything else.
As for other short stories everybody should read, in case you're new around here and have missed my original posting of them, my other favorites are:
Two Words (Dos Palabras) by Isabel Allende
The Necklace by Guy de Maupassant
On seeing the 100% perfect girl one beautiful April morning by Haruki Murakami (whose favorite writer, incidentally, is Carver)
Hills Like White Elephants by Ernest Hemingway
If you can only read one of these, though, read Murakami's. Considering the clientele that frequents this lj, I think the majority of you would really, really love that one.
Here is a link to Big Blonde if you're interested.
I also love Gabriel García Márquez's No One Writes to the Colonel (El coronel no tiene quien le escriba) but couldn't find the full text online.
I used to love and recommend No One's A Mystery by Elizabeth Tallent like crazy!cakes but the impact of that one has lessened as I've gotten older.
Now I'm curious. Anybody care to share their own favorite short stories?
ETA: Oh God, you guys, I totally forgot about A&P by John Updike, the short story with the best God damn opening line in all of short story history. I don't know how or why it's the best God damn opening line, but it is. It just is.
... Hell, it's just one of the best God damn opening scenes, period.
... Consulted the s.o. about the best opening line thing. Simply: "It captures a young, colloquial voice perfectly. That's somebody you know starting to tell you a story." ♥
I really like short stories, partly because from a time standpoint it can often be very hard for me to commit to a full-fledged novel, but also because of that emotional punch; it always feels like a lot of payoff for a "bite-sized" story - at least, assuming the short story manages to succeed at poignant emotional punchage.
I'm hard-pressed to think of the last happy/upbeat short story I read. I think it was Guy de Maupassant's The Necklace, though that's more of a comedy and I wouldn't exactly call the plotline a happy one. The delivery is certainly upbeat, though. (I really like The Necklace.) I guess Isabel Allende's Dos Palabras (Two Words) is a... happy one? But it's still very poignant and moving, and doesn't have that upbeat vibe that The Necklace does. Allende's story is one of my favorite short stories, ever (I first read it in the original Spanish years ago and man, that's depressing, because my Spanish is shot to hell now), and I've linked to it on my lj previously. If you haven't read it, I highly recommend you do.
Those are the only two I can think of, though. None of the four stories I read on my last Rainy Short Story Day could be considered happy, at all. (I mean, two of the four stories were by Raymond Carver, and if you know Carver, well. You know.)
I actually hadn't read Carver before, but had been really itchy to read What We Talk About When We Talk About Love because of its exquisite title. I didn't even realize I had a copy of it in one of my fiction anthologies, ha! (This is what happens when you buy humongous books and never read them.) So anyway, I wound up reading I Could See the Smallest Things and the aforementioned What We Talk About... I found the former a little too obtuse. The latter less so, and I enjoyed it a lot more, but I'd be lying if I didn't say I was a little... underwhelmed? I mean, it's Carver's most famous story, so I guess I was expecting more out of it.
There are definitely aspects of both that I like - Carver has a gift for turning the most mundane little things into something of much deeper meaning, and his dialogue, too. His dialogue is fantastic. It's just so charged with this undercurrent of meaning, and what's best is it actually sounds like real people talking. It's not striving to be clever (which, mind, I am also a big fan of when done well and in the right type of story), it's just very, very real. I just get hung up on the deriving meaning from it. But maybe what it ultimately is is that I'm just not as big on minimalism as I think I am? I mean, Carver's stuff is hardcore minimalist. I do like open-endedness and things being left for me to decipher on my own, but I think I'd appreciate a little more... direction, or something. At the end of it I'm still left unsure of exactly what Carver is wanting to say.
Maybe it's the sort of thing that'll take me a few years to get. Same thing happened with Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea. (I don't understand why English classes make you read that book at any point in high school. Barely anyone at that age is able to understand or appreciate what the book is talking about, my high school self included.)
I followed Carver up with Dorothy Parker, who everybody should read because she is witty and fun and sharp as a fucking pike, I mean, man, that woman had one hell of a quick tongue. I hadn't read Parker's short stories, only her poetry, and at the s.o.'s encouragements Big Blonde was my third story that day. Definitely a switch from Carver; clever narrative and more narrative-driven period. Still not happy, though. I guess there's kind of a sad, very dark humor in it, which is kind of Parker's thing anyway. I enjoyed it enough. Big Blonde doesn't exactly leave me thinking about things, though - which is weird, considering it lends itself pretty readily to feminist discussion about idealizing courting and marriage and romantic relationships. I guess it's because all the themes/questions that could be derived from it have already been in my head at some point or another, and at the end of the day it isn't really about those things. More than anything it's a story about a sad woman, and was much more character-driven than any of the other stories I read that day. Considering my love of character-driven work, it came as a surprise to my s.o. that it wasn't my favorite.
My favorite was the last, and that was Albert Camus' The Guest. (It might surprise some of you to know that despite Camus' presence in TEF, I actually haven't read that much of him.) I think ultimately what made The Guest my favorite was the impact. It really delivered on emotional impact for me, and I still can't quite explain why. It just struck me as the most poignant and the ending really stuck with me and made me think. Considering Camus and his whole, you know, existentialist thing, I suppose it shouldn't really be a surprise. (Slight aside, Justin O'Brien did a fantastic job on the translation. You know how you can tell when it's a good translation? When it doesn't sound like it ever existed in another language.)
I would highly recommend everyone read Camus' The Guest. My second rec would be Carver's What We Talk About When We Talk About Love. Big Blonde is good too, though I'd recommend Parker's poetry/quotes and quips more than anything else.
As for other short stories everybody should read, in case you're new around here and have missed my original posting of them, my other favorites are:
Two Words (Dos Palabras) by Isabel Allende
The Necklace by Guy de Maupassant
On seeing the 100% perfect girl one beautiful April morning by Haruki Murakami (whose favorite writer, incidentally, is Carver)
Hills Like White Elephants by Ernest Hemingway
If you can only read one of these, though, read Murakami's. Considering the clientele that frequents this lj, I think the majority of you would really, really love that one.
Here is a link to Big Blonde if you're interested.
I also love Gabriel García Márquez's No One Writes to the Colonel (El coronel no tiene quien le escriba) but couldn't find the full text online.
I used to love and recommend No One's A Mystery by Elizabeth Tallent like crazy!cakes but the impact of that one has lessened as I've gotten older.
Now I'm curious. Anybody care to share their own favorite short stories?
ETA: Oh God, you guys, I totally forgot about A&P by John Updike, the short story with the best God damn opening line in all of short story history. I don't know how or why it's the best God damn opening line, but it is. It just is.
... Hell, it's just one of the best God damn opening scenes, period.
... Consulted the s.o. about the best opening line thing. Simply: "It captures a young, colloquial voice perfectly. That's somebody you know starting to tell you a story." ♥