The introduction, by Daniel Halpern, to the Penguin
anthology explains the mystique of the genre quite well:
The story, when it is written
well, is like strong emotion: it is alive, convincing and difficult to expel
from the body’s metabolism.
I came across Deborah Levy’s collection as part of my “And
Other Stories” subscription (see the entry on this blog for “Swimming Home” by
the same writer for details and a link if you would like to support independent
publishing too), and I am very grateful that I was given the opportunity to
revisit her wonderful work, even if in another form, so close to finishing her
Booker Prize shortlisted novel.
This collection contains ten stories, including the title
story “Black Vodka” which made the 2012 BBC Short Story Award Shortlist. All
ten stories are a lament on love, unrequited love, unspoken love, hurtful love,
fear of love and more. As in “Swimming Home”, but more to the fore in the
shorter genre, Deborah Levy says even more by saying less. Cinema has mise en
scene (the visual theme and emotional tone of a film), Levy has a strong
observation of human fears, letting ourselves fill in the blanks that are
populating her character’s minds.
He looks down at the frayed cuffs
of his short sleeves and notices a small rash on the back of both of his hands.
Does she know he has brought his agitation and turbulence into the white walls
of her apartment? The rash on his hands is the memory of saying goodbye to his
small children when he left the family house, knowing he was never going to
return. (“Vienna”)
This is the sixth day without
Naomi. As Mr Tegala rides his bicycle to the pub, he hums his favourite Leonard
Cohen song. A passing truck knocks him into the gutter. Simon Tegala is
bleeding and bruised and he can’t stand up. Apparently someone has called an
ambulance. He wonders if Naomi would leave him if she knew Leonard Cohen was
his hero. And then he remembers Naomi has left him anyway. (“Simon Tegala’s
Heart in 12 Parts”)
Each one of these stories rang true for me in some way and
it is Levy’s ability to say enough, without pointing out the whole, which
attracts me to her writing. It allows the reader enough wiggle room to insert
their own experiences into the story, to connect with the protagonists, to feel
as though the emotion is sinking into the “body’s metabolism”. The age old existentialist question, what does it mean to live, does it include love?
The first time I met Lisa I knew
she was going to help me become a very different sort of man. Knowing this felt
like a summer holiday. It made me relax – and I am quite a tense person. (“Black
Vodka”)
If you loved Levy’s Booker Prize shortlisted “Swimming Home”
I suggest you also hunt down a copy of these wonderful stories, and as mentioned
above have a look at the And Other Stories website (http://www.andotherstories.org/subscribe/)
to understand their publishing philosophy and maybe subscribe to their books.
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