I first came to appreciate short stories back in class 10. Both English and Hindi literature course curriculum had the most eclectic collection of short stories encompassing the varied literary styles and voices.
I came to understand the mood of the story when they opened with a ‘gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard’. I came to understand the ironic endings à la ‘sting in the tail’. I came to see the generosity of our English teacher when she doled out dismal rock-bottom grades for our entire batch. She was this high priestess of literature and it was sheer joy to sit in her class and soak in all the metaphors and allegorical references. She is the only teacher who taught both me and my brother and after carefully comparing notes we conferred her with a title- take a bow 'Ninja warrior'!
Hindi literature was a different revelation- one could easily see the parallels between the plot/language/literary devices used by the writer and the people/society/times he was portraying. There is always a social context to writing and with Hindi writers there is a certain familiarity with the externalities of the story. You can really sit down and appreciate the details/perspectives that the writes chooses to bring to focus, the set pieces he picks.
Irrespective of the language, short stories have a technique. Poe’s golden dictum-a short story should be readable in a single sitting is a good starting point. The majority of stories that I read back in class 10 were tightly wound. O. Henry-‘The last leaf’, ‘The gift of the Magi’ instantaneously come to mind. They read like a fable, I can describe these stories during a dinner conversation in between tearing a piece of bread and using it to mop up the hearty soup.
There were other stories that left an indelible impression with their realism-the true life like portrayal of human nature and condition- Anton Chekhov, Premchand.
Some stories you remember for their characters, often the ones who stand out not for their virtues but for their all too understandable flaws. Stephen King stories/novellas are often tales of such twisted characters.
I am currently reading a collection of O. Henry Prize Stories 2013, and it is interesting to sample the work of different writers from a somewhat recent era. It’s a mixed bag so far, some to my taste and some that leave me cold. Also I have to confess that in most modern stories “nothing happens”, sometimes its just a mood or a dense psychological degustation palette. However I am keeping an open mind.
“The summer people” by Kelly Link was the one that I enjoyed reading the most. It’s the kind that you start reading and nothing else matters until you finish it- the mister waited for me to finish the story before we headed out for our morning hike. I guess I am a sucker for books with magic, (reliving my Harry Potter days) this one served a dollop and then some-magical realism.
George McCormick, “The Mexican” was short, had a beginning that I liked and an ending that I loved. Nalini Jones, “Tiger” felt endearing and realistic. “Where Do you Go” by Samar Fitzgerald had my rapt attention for a while. I thought I really understood the couple, especially the women she was writing about until a point.
I still have a couple more to read in this collection before I go a decade back in time and read another O. henry collection i picked from the library. Just the right way to spend a lazy December weekend!
Coincidentally while I'm stargazing the short story universe, little online birdie tells me that a short story just went viral(Cat person-The New Yorker). Its a slice of life which is eerily relatable(primarily women's perspective) and much like everything else in twitter-verse, its evoked sharp reactions..
I came to understand the mood of the story when they opened with a ‘gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard’. I came to understand the ironic endings à la ‘sting in the tail’. I came to see the generosity of our English teacher when she doled out dismal rock-bottom grades for our entire batch. She was this high priestess of literature and it was sheer joy to sit in her class and soak in all the metaphors and allegorical references. She is the only teacher who taught both me and my brother and after carefully comparing notes we conferred her with a title- take a bow 'Ninja warrior'!
Hindi literature was a different revelation- one could easily see the parallels between the plot/language/literary devices used by the writer and the people/society/times he was portraying. There is always a social context to writing and with Hindi writers there is a certain familiarity with the externalities of the story. You can really sit down and appreciate the details/perspectives that the writes chooses to bring to focus, the set pieces he picks.
Irrespective of the language, short stories have a technique. Poe’s golden dictum-a short story should be readable in a single sitting is a good starting point. The majority of stories that I read back in class 10 were tightly wound. O. Henry-‘The last leaf’, ‘The gift of the Magi’ instantaneously come to mind. They read like a fable, I can describe these stories during a dinner conversation in between tearing a piece of bread and using it to mop up the hearty soup.
There were other stories that left an indelible impression with their realism-the true life like portrayal of human nature and condition- Anton Chekhov, Premchand.
Some stories you remember for their characters, often the ones who stand out not for their virtues but for their all too understandable flaws. Stephen King stories/novellas are often tales of such twisted characters.
I am currently reading a collection of O. Henry Prize Stories 2013, and it is interesting to sample the work of different writers from a somewhat recent era. It’s a mixed bag so far, some to my taste and some that leave me cold. Also I have to confess that in most modern stories “nothing happens”, sometimes its just a mood or a dense psychological degustation palette. However I am keeping an open mind.
“The summer people” by Kelly Link was the one that I enjoyed reading the most. It’s the kind that you start reading and nothing else matters until you finish it- the mister waited for me to finish the story before we headed out for our morning hike. I guess I am a sucker for books with magic, (reliving my Harry Potter days) this one served a dollop and then some-magical realism.
George McCormick, “The Mexican” was short, had a beginning that I liked and an ending that I loved. Nalini Jones, “Tiger” felt endearing and realistic. “Where Do you Go” by Samar Fitzgerald had my rapt attention for a while. I thought I really understood the couple, especially the women she was writing about until a point.
I still have a couple more to read in this collection before I go a decade back in time and read another O. henry collection i picked from the library. Just the right way to spend a lazy December weekend!
Coincidentally while I'm stargazing the short story universe, little online birdie tells me that a short story just went viral(Cat person-The New Yorker). Its a slice of life which is eerily relatable(primarily women's perspective) and much like everything else in twitter-verse, its evoked sharp reactions..
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