Category Archives: enlightenment

The Best American Short Stories 2024

My creative writing classes keeps me reading The Best American Short Stories each year, but looking back through my notes, it appears that I don’t typically write about it, which is a shame! This year’s story collection was edited by Lauren Groff, who I have been reading and enjoying lately. (Though honestly I typically don’t have a sense of an editor’s taste from one year to the next.)

This year’s collection was epic and stunning as always. In my opinion, these anthologies are the single best way to get a sense of contemporary writing, although the works remain fairly conservative in their form and approach. These are all typical short stories.

One of the most memorable stories this year had abuse in it. As I think back over the years, I now realize that some of the stories that stand out the most have featured some type of abuse. Not because they are better stories, but because they can be so traumatizing to the reader. I don’t like it and seem to get increasingly sensitive to it with each passing year. I even think the series may need to start integrating trigger warnings. Maybe literary fiction more broadly needs to integrate trigger warnings. And, yet, as I write this, I am aware that the trigger warning significantly changes the reading experience. I don’t have the answers. I think this work should exist. It lends insight into the human condition. Even still, at this point I can’t help but think that the subtler works are the greater works.

Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight by Alexandra Fuller

Alexandra Fuller’s book, Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight offers beautiful writing and insights on living in Africa through the 1970s-90s, amid war and revolution, amid those complicated social dynamics, but also amid the personal dynamics of family, of alcoholism, of mental illness, and parents who offer their children a childhood that is at once amazing and also, probably, negligent.

Fuller’s writing is consistently beautiful throughout. Even in its sometimes stark depictions, the book is infused with a contagious love of Africa. Zambia, Zimbabwe, Malawi have not necessarily been places I’ve ever wanted to visit. I’ve grown up in wilderness areas, and so the great safaris that have drawn others have less pull for me. However, this book made me see some of the other beautiful aspects of the country. After reading the book, I wouldn’t hesitate to go.

This year there’s a new movie out based on the book. From the trailer, it appears that the film follows the book closely. I hope I get a chance to watch it.

Women by Chloe Caldwell

I had two of Chloe Caldwell’s books in my backpack, and so I read them back to back. Women by Chloe Caldwell is her more well-known book, and I do think it it has the most literary merit and staying power of her work that I’ve read so far. Caldwell offers a very focused, very detailed immersion into an intense, obsessive, and destructive relationship with a woman.

This book is not the triumphant lesbian novel I think people want it to be. It is unclear to the reader the extent that Caldwell is lesbian, bisexual, or heterosexual, and this is a key question throughout the book–for Caldwell and for her readers.

A clear look at the experience of being intensely caught up in forbidden love is the point of the book, I think, and also just that experience of living life as a human with desires, stupidity, and pleasure, plus some good old fashioned bed rot and mental illness. Most readers with a beating heart will recognize at least some pieces of this book.

I’ll Tell You in Person by Chloe Caldwell

I read I’ll Tell You in Person by Chloe Caldwell right before reading her other more well-known and previous book entitled Women. The book reads as a memoir and Caldwell as the main character is unhinged and insufferable, but recognizable, and this seems intentional and is the interesting thing about this book.

Caldwell’s depictions of coming of age in the 90s and early aughts is detailed and nostalgic, and this part will resonate with most readers who have lived through that era.

There’s something to say about privilege/social class and mental illness, but I’m not sure what except maybe just that people with support networks can experience drug addiction and depression more safely than those in more precarious situations.

I found myself wishing I’d read the book 20 years ago, but it was published in 2016.

There There by Tommy Orange

There There by Tommy Orange has been on my tbr pile since shortly after it was published in 2019. The timing was right when I finally got around to reading it, as, interestingly, I have been reading more indigenous work for my scholarship this winter, learning more about my family’s history, and this book has helped inform all of that thinking.

It’s a good book. It is another one that I’ve read recently that has a very cinematic quality, and I could easily see it being made into a movie at some point. The book has an intentional and unique plot and timeline, with characters unknown to each other moving apart and together in each other’s lives.

I’m not sure what to say about the theory, exactly. Orange’s characters are urban Indians. Orange has them defying societal expectations and also interacting with stereotypes.

I think most readers have a lot of learn from a book like this, both in terms of good literary prose and the commentary about contemporary, urban indigenous lives.

On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan

On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan is a painstaking, painstaking novella. It’s beautifully written, no doubt. McEwan captures human nature and places it in a time of properness, confusion, ignorance. The book offers some wisdom about coupling, big picture, that would likely be lost on most readers who have not yet been in a relationship with a partner or spouse. McEwan uses a very detailed account of a sexual encounter to make some smart, larger commentary about human coupling. It’s good, but it is painful.

My Mother Gets Married by Moa Martinson

This book has been on my tbr list for over a year now, and I finally found a copy to read through interlibrary loan. My Mother Gets Married is an account of Moa Martinson’s own childhood growing up in impoverished Sweden around the turn of the last century

My own grandma was frugal, but everyone was who lived through the great depression. It wasn’t clear to me if her family immigrated more because of harsh living conditions in the old country or more because of the promise of the “new” world.

While I can’t be exactly certain of my family’s exact circumstances, I think perhaps things weren’t so dark as Martinson depicts in her book based on some information I have. Either way, the book offers insights into some of the culture in Sweden at that time. I appreciated learning about the schooling they would have received, the dresses they would have worn, and the tokens that would have been important to them.

Personal interests aside, Martinson’s writing is strong. There is a subtle, underlying and scathing observations on gender, social class, and justice. Martinson’s writing reveals a deep insight and understanding of the human condition.

Love, Pamela by Pamela Anderson

So, Pamela Anderson is interesting. She’s raised her children. She’s gardening in Canada. She’s on Broadway. She’s galavanting around Paris Fashion Week with a bare face! Gasp! I’m really enjoying seeing an iconic figure doing something a little different than the status quo, in both subtle and overtly radical ways.

I just finished her book, Love, Pamela, and I really enjoyed it. She comes across as aware, intentional, not overtly prudish at all, but much more thoughtful than most women in her position are ever allowed to be.

Weirdly, perhaps, I identify with some aspects of Pamela’s life, especially her whirlwind romance with Tommy. He even proposed with a skull ring similar to the one that I received after a show from the person with whom I would later have children. Like Pamela, I also have seen some things, but like grounding back in familiar land, gardening, chickens, etc. Of course, there are also some critical and obvious differences too!

I appreciate that her voice is being amplified, and I look forward to seeing what’s next from this icon.

Making Love with the Land by Joshua Whitehead

Making Love with the Land by Joshua Whitehead is one of the best there is in contemporary literary prose. I want to say that Whitehead is incredibly “playful” on the level of the line–unique and like nothing I’ve ever seen before–but “playful” doesn’t seem quite like the right word because of intensity and oftentimes heaviness of the content, but a better alternative escapes me. The book is vulnerable, embarrassing, and brave and deserving of the accolades.

Paris: A Memoir by Paris Hilton

As you know, I love a good celebrity memoir, and Paris: A Memoir by Paris Hilton did not disappoint. I’m actually surprised this book hasn’t been more widely advertised or talked about in my media streams because the book is quite interesting, and I think everyone who has watched the Paris juggernaut over past decades will find this book to be of interest.

Most interestingly, Paris relays the horrifying treatment facilities she was put in as a child (in great detail) and her tumultuous teen (and adult) years. She contextualizes it all with her ADHD/neurodiversity, and honestly, as a reader, this context made it all make sense for me. It was also interesting to see the focus and vision she’s had for her career from very early on.

In the end, I think this book will truly be a gift to teens with ADHD and to people who aspire toward greatness. I would have liked to see more “how I built this”-style insights and more insights into social class, access, and fame, but she does touch on all of these to some extent.

She is entering a new era now–marriage and motherhood–and in the future I’ll definitely read another memoir from her that goes more into depth on these subjects as well.