Stories edited by Neil Gaiman and Al Sarrantonio

What would Neil Gaiman place on the walls of a public library to encourage children to read?

"The four words that children ask, when you pause, telling them a story. The four words you hear at the end of a chapter. The four words, spoken or unspoken, that show you, as a storyteller, that people care.

...and then what happened?"

Gaiman's introduction to Stories is an homage to story, to our  innate desire for a plot, something to give us a sense that what we're reading is actually going somewhere. And so, in this short story anthology edited by Mr. Gaiman and Al Sarrantonio, they gathered short fiction that actually told stories. 

This isn't the first time I heard and responded to the case for story. Almost a year ago, I read and posted this Lev Grossman article about the plot against plot. A few posts ago, I linked to the Guardian article mentioning Stories and Michael Chabon's McSweeney's intro in one breath. And, in affirmation of the dictum that one book or one read leads to another, I bought Stories promptly after reading said Guardian article and set out looking for said McSweeney's Mammoth Treasury of Thrilling Tales, edited by Michael Chabon (which I found, by the way, so yay!).

And so, I have full access to Chabon's rant about story, or the lack thereof, which I will quote here:

Imagine that, sometime about 1950, it had been decided, collectively, informally, a little at a time, but with finality, to proscribe every kind of novel from the canon of the future but the nurse romance. Not merely from the critical canon, but from the store racks and library shelves as well. Nobody could be paid, published, lionized, or cherished among the gods of literature for writing any kind of fiction other than nurse romances. Now, because of my faith and pride in the diverse and rigorous brilliance of American writers of the last half-century, I do believe that from this bizarre decision, in this theoretical America, a dozen or more authentic masterpieces would have emerged...One imagines, however, that this particular genre--that any genre, even one far less circumscribed in its elements and possibilities than the nurse romance--would have paled somewhat by the year 2002. Over the last year in that oddly diminished world, somebody, somewhere, would be...crying out, "Surely, oh, surely there must be more to the novel than this!"

Instead of the "novel" and the "nurse romance," try this little Gedankenexperiment with "jazz" and "the bossa nova," or with "cinema" and "fish-out-of-water" comedies." Now go ahead and try it with "short fiction" and "the contemporary, quotidian, plotless, moment-of-truth revelatory story."

Suddenly you find yourself sitting right back in your very own universe.

All right, obviously the issue resonates with me. However, this is not to say that I don't like what Chabon calls the "contemporary, quotidian, plotless, moment-of-truth revelatory story." I would have to; otherwise, I wouldn't like Chabon. And I honestly love him.

I grant that a lot of literary fiction nowadays does not carry much of a plot, that the story is subsumed for the elegant turn of phrase, for the novel use of narrative structure, for the postmodern meta-narratives. And yes, in great abundance, this would be oh-so-tiring. But life without them would be so much grimmer and boring. Because though I like to ask "...and then what happened?" when I'm reading a work of fiction, I also find an equal charm and excitement to asking "What the heck is happening?" And there's an unimaginable thrill when I figure out the answer to that question. Plus, the ride is all worthwhile when the reading is also peppered with thoughts like "Oh...what a beautiful sentence/paragraph/chapter! Still don't get what's happening, but that sentence/paragraph/chapter gets me." This is what happened when I read The Blind Assassin or The God of Small Things or Housekeeping or The House on Mango Street. Such power, beauty, and heart in these works!

But back to story...

So, sometimes I like the pow-pow-pow of steady action; other times I like the swish-swish-lull of lyrical prose. But this begs the question: why am I still segregating them in my head--plotted stories and literary fiction? This is Gaiman's and Chabon's whole argument: must there be this segregation? Does it always have to be genre on one side and literary fiction on the other? Can't a genre story be literary, too, and can't a literary work be crap? In our heads, we say yes to both. So I guess that only leaves the gatekeepers of  the publishing industry and of culture. Here's to hoping they say yes, too.

Enough of my rant and, for real now, back to Stories...

You know, it wasn't only Gaiman's introduction and that oh-so-cute cover that got me to buy this book. It was, if you note below, the stellar cast of writers in the collection, some of whom I always hear or read about, but have never read, like Jodi Picoult, Chuck Palahniuk, or Joe Hill. And I guess that's what I like about short story anthologies--it's like the writers are auditioning for you. Before you commit yourself to buying or reading one of their longer works, you get a tiny taste of them first to find out if you're really interested. So now I know that I'm interested in Picoult, mildly interested in Hill, and going to try reading Palahniuk's Fight Club to see if it gets the first bad taste out of my mouth.

Now what I specifically like about this short story anthology is that a lot of the stories fall within the broad range of speculative fiction. Mind you, not necessarily sci-fi, not fantasy...just speculative. And this was a true treat, considering that many of them do not really write speculative fiction. Anyway, below I've written down a short summary of each story in Stories and what I thought of it.

Do I recommend this anthology? Yes, very much so. Will you like everything in it? No, and neither should you expect to, given the wide variety of writers and styles. This, however, I would like to say...there are gems here. Many of them. You'll just have to find yours. And the finding is where the fun is.

• Blood - Roddy Doyle. Normal guy suddenly finds he has a thirst for blood. Literally. Pretty unusual-but-right twist at the end.
• Fossil Figures - Joyce Carol Oates. Demon twin dominates his lesser half. I found the ending blah.
• Wildfire in Manhattan - Joanne Harris. Ancient gods living in Manhattan. I know, like American Gods. But fun, nonetheless.
• The Truth is a Cave in the Black Mountains - Neil Gaiman. This story feels like Gaiman is straddling the divide between magic realism and fantasy and makes it work. This one will stay with you. No, I won't tell you what it's about.
• Unbelief - Michael Marshall Smith. A hired killer gets the hit of a lifetime. Not a bad tale.
• The Stars are Falling - Joe R. Lansdale. Long-lost husband comes home to much younger wife. Guess what happens. Actually, the story and the writing was pretty predictable. Still, a good yarn.
• Juvenal Nyx - Walter Mosley. Negro activist from the 1970s meets a girl who'll change his life. Story was long and a bit clunky. Felt like Mosley would have preferred it to be a full-blown novel. Which would work, I think.
• The Knife - Richard Adams. Boy takes revenge on a bully. And oh wow, what a revenge. Short, but makes you think.
• Weights and Measures - Jodi Picoult. A couple deals with life-numbing grief. This was emotionally painful for me. But an outstanding story and a heartwrenching first line.
• Goblin Lake - Michael Swanwick. Trickster soldier falls into the Goblin Lake and discovers a world underneath. I believe this was an attempt to play with notions of reality and fiction. At certain points, it felt preachy.
• Mallon the Guru - Peter Straub. Two American gurus seek out a renowned Indian yogi, with unexpected results. Ok, I didn't totally get this one. Nice build-up, though.
• Catch and Release - Lawrence Block. A different kind of fisherman shows his craft. This is perhaps the most chilling story I read in this anthology. I found it fantastic.
• Polka Dots and Moonbeams - Jeffrey Ford. Not entirely sure, but I think it's about a couple caught in a time loop. Entertaining, even if I'm still not sure what happened.
• Loser - Chuck Palahniuk. A sorority girl joins The Price is Right on a lark. I think Palahniuk was going for surrealism, but I don't think he reached it. Or I didn't really care for the story or the character or the message at all.
• Samantha's Diary - Diana Wynne Jones. Nice take on the twelve days of Christmas. Absurd, but nice.
• Land of the Lost - Stewart O' Nan. Woman suffering from empty nest syndrome has a truly pathetic hobby. You feel and root for the woman here, no matter how pathetic she seems. 
• Unwell - Carolyn Parkhurst. Another tale about siblings, one of them really unwell in the head. And heart. Oh, what a delicious narrator and delicious tale. 
• A Life in Fictions - Kat Howard. Poor girl gets sucked into fiction every time writer boyfriend writes about her. Interesting enough, but I feel like Howard could've given the story more depth and emotion.
• Let the Past Begin - Jonathan Carroll. Woman has a curse hanging over the head of her unborn child. The story starts out really promising, but I felt it fizzled off at the end, even with the revelation.
• The Therapist - Jeffrey Deaver. This therapist has an interesting theory about what brings people over the brink to violence, and has an even more interesting means of treatment. This, I found fascinating, too. Nicely woven story that makes the absurd seem believable.
• Parallel Lines - Tim Powers. One more story about twins, though one is alive and the other has just died. Nothing particularly bad about it, but nothing particularly remarkable. Maybe because the ending was expected.
• The Cult of the Nose - Al Sarrantonio. Man gets obssessed with secret cult of the Nose that seems to appear only at moments of disaster. Familiar concept, though I really didn't get why, of all cults, it would be about the Nose. 
• Human Intelligence - Kurt Andersen. A spy from a really far off land suddenly wishes to be discovered. I liked this tale. Peopled with good characters, who act with the best of intentions. And everyone gets what he deserves. Pretty feel-good and a nice place for it.
• Stories - Michael Moorcock. An editor and publisher reflects upon his life, the life of his writer friends, and how all their lives affect the stories they wrote. This is the only story that reminds me of the usual contemporary literary fiction style. For a while, it was intriguing, but I didn't get the point at the end.
• The Maiden Flight of McCauley's Bellerophon - Elizabeth Hand. Old friends decide to recreate the flight of an airplane that pre-dates the Wright Brothers. This was a really charming and well-written story about nostalgia, rekindled friendships, and redemption.
• The Devil on the Staircase - Joe Hill. A man discovers a staircase in a mountain that leads further down than he wants to go. Witty merging of form and theme, since text is written in staircase form. The story isn't that striking, though, but Hill's writing is entertaining enough.

And if and when you've read it, it'll be my turn to ask you "...and then what happened?" I hope you'll oblige me by letting me know.:)