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caleb_tankersley's review
4.0
I read this book in order to get a better understanding of what is expected/revered at MFA programs, from which all the stories in the collection are derived. Upon finishing the last page, I was struck with hope from this book, although, if you read only the ending story, you might not feel the same. Some of these stories, especially "Salvation Army" and "Love and Honor and Pity and Pride and Compassion and Sacrifice," were especially astounding. After reading these stories, I had to put the book down and just lay back and think for awhile. Brilliant work.
But, to my great surprise, the styles of these works were not too terribly far from my own, albeit perhaps a bit more refined. I was even more surprised to find some stories, namely "Little Stone, Little Pistols, Little Clash," and "The Still Point," went beyond bad and, dare I say, sucked.(apologies to the authors, who I'm sure are great writers, but maybe just not my kind.)
There were also a great number of stories that, how shall I put this, milked whatever vain or fainting wisp of a multicultural or international experience these writers had. I found this somewhat pathetic. Nam Le actually addressed this in his story, in a very frank and ashamed manner. He basically admits to the hypocrisy and exploitation of the idea, which I felt commendable. I would, perhaps, blame the editor more for this than anything else. Perhaps it's not a problem at all, and I'm only a bitter WASP. At least I get to be gay, but that's hardly story-worthy. It's been exploited to death.
Anyways, the overall quality of the collection was astounding. Even if I didn't like the story, the talent of each and every writer in this collection cannot be refuted. It's worth checking out. I hope I can make it into one of these, someday.
But, to my great surprise, the styles of these works were not too terribly far from my own, albeit perhaps a bit more refined. I was even more surprised to find some stories, namely "Little Stone, Little Pistols, Little Clash," and "The Still Point," went beyond bad and, dare I say, sucked.(apologies to the authors, who I'm sure are great writers, but maybe just not my kind.)
There were also a great number of stories that, how shall I put this, milked whatever vain or fainting wisp of a multicultural or international experience these writers had. I found this somewhat pathetic. Nam Le actually addressed this in his story, in a very frank and ashamed manner. He basically admits to the hypocrisy and exploitation of the idea, which I felt commendable. I would, perhaps, blame the editor more for this than anything else. Perhaps it's not a problem at all, and I'm only a bitter WASP. At least I get to be gay, but that's hardly story-worthy. It's been exploited to death.
Anyways, the overall quality of the collection was astounding. Even if I didn't like the story, the talent of each and every writer in this collection cannot be refuted. It's worth checking out. I hope I can make it into one of these, someday.
denaafr's review
4.0
These sorts of collections are often a mixed bag, but I was blown away by a lot of these stories, especially "Wintering," "Salvation Army" "Look Ma, I'm breathing," "Love and Honor and Pity and Pride and Compassion and Sacrifice," and "The Still Point." As someone who writes what would be categorized as "immigrant fiction," I was especially taken with the honesty of the Nam Le story. Anyone who has been in a writing workshop (or ten) has probably heard the words "what exactly is at stake here?" to the point that it's become like nails on a chalkboard to hear someone ask that, but his story (and to some extent "Salvation Army") infuses new blood into that question and makes it meaningful by reminding you that for the people whose lives become the subjects of the immigrant stories that bore his mfa student characters so much, the stakes are not only too real but often too high. It's a poignant reminder that stories ultimately matter because the people who live and carry them matter even more, not because the writer won a bunch of fancy shmancy awards by telling them through his or her fancy shmancy prose.
Also "Little Stones, Little Pistols, Little Clash," would ordinarily be too clever for my taste, but it won me over with its weirdness and its playful mockery of the music biz. I see it as an exuberant meditation (if meditation can be exuberant) on language and its often absurd effects on the way we experience life and each other. Also I would select this line for an anthology of funniest American analogies about sex: but the way I see it, she continued, sex isn't that different from asking your waitress for more coffee and trying not to sound like an a-hole when you do it."
Also "Little Stones, Little Pistols, Little Clash," would ordinarily be too clever for my taste, but it won me over with its weirdness and its playful mockery of the music biz. I see it as an exuberant meditation (if meditation can be exuberant) on language and its often absurd effects on the way we experience life and each other. Also I would select this line for an anthology of funniest American analogies about sex: but the way I see it, she continued, sex isn't that different from asking your waitress for more coffee and trying not to sound like an a-hole when you do it."
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