The Best American Short Stories 1992 - Introduction

Start the clock. 

I'm notorious for taking years to read these anthologies. We are 15 books in to this series starting with 1978 back in 2008. 

Back when I started this project, I worked at a newspaper in Virginia. Two weeks ago, I voluntarily left the newspaper (my second home for 19 years). It was a difficult decision, but a move that was necessary. I'm sure in the years and posts to come, I will dive deeper into everything surrounding my departure. These stories have a way of prying out details over time - this is the purpose of this project - it's a bit of therapy. 

I've written several times about the various stages of my life and here we are at another. It'll be very interesting to see what develops.

So, here we are, finally reading the BASS 1992. I loved the 90s and the editor of this volume, in his introduction, touches on one of the reasons why I found that decade so special.

Robert Stone made his first appearance in The Best American Series back in 1998 which I read in 2012. I found his introduction to this volume a little rough - of course perhaps I am out of practice (reading that is). The following passage did catch me though.

"In their variety, these stories reflect what is probably the most significant development in late-twentieth-century American fiction, the renewal and revitalization of the realist mode, which has been taken up by a new generation of writers. This represents less a "triumph" of realism than the obviation of old arguments about the relationship between life and language. As of 1992, American writers seem ready to accept traditional forms without self-consciousness in dealing with the complexity of the world around them."

This final paragraph from the introduction nails it perfectly for me. It's why I found love for the short story in the early 90s.

During my time at Norwich University, I worked as a work study student in the library. I was assigned to the periodicals department where I received incoming magazines and journals. I cataloged the new arrivals and at times, when needed, I assisted in the weeding of older journals from the shelves. Because Norwich was associated with Vermont College at this time, we received copies of important literary journals. When I found a few minutes of down-time between my duties, I would flip through these journals, journals with odd sounding names, Black Warrior Review, Ploughshares, The Southern Review, Missouri Review, Paris Review and the Virginia Quarterly Review just to name a few. I can't readily recall what story or what journal pulled me in, but I was hooked. It was in these journals that the stories I am now reading in the BASS are resurfacing. No doubt, I will run across one or several that seem all too familiar...the years softening my recollection of having actually reading it so many years ago.

Now, the publications and number of stories featured in BASS 1992.

Ploughshares - 1

Story - 3

New England Review - 1

The Atlantic Monthly - 1

Harper's Magazine - 1

The Southern Review - 1

Fiction International - 1

Black Warrior Review - 1

American Short Fiction - 1

The New Yorker - 9

So, as you can see, and it shouldn't come as a  surprise, stories from The New Yorker heavily outweigh the others.

Stone has this to say about the stories from that publication.

"The large number of New Yorker inclusions I think results from the fact that while The New Yorker is still able to attract first-rate submissions, the days are past when there was such a thing as a "New Yorker story." 

Well, lets see about that. I'm very excited to start this new journey - both in my life and with this volume. 

The 90s were my decade - I have faith that these stories will hold up.

Onward!

A Conclusion

I can’t count the number of times I’ve started this entry in my head. I finished the last story in this edition quite some time ago so why deviate from my normal behavior of waiting to post an entry?

I made the introductory post for this edition back on February 27, 2017. 

That was 2 years, 11 months and 3 days ago…or 1067 days.

This project suffered neglect due to my inability to remain focused on it and due to the many other wonderful titles, that surfaced and caught my attention. 

These occasional entries are good though to shame me into posting more. 

Maybe. 

So, what can I say about The Best American Short Stories 1991? 

An overview of this volume wouldn’t be fair. I have trouble recalling the good/bad/ugly of these stories. 

So – with that, let’s put this volume behind us. 

After all, I have started a new volume in life (more on that later) so it is only appropriate that I do with this project.

A Sandstone Farmhouse – John Updike

Well hello there Mr. Updike!

Our society has changed quite a bit since we first met back in January 2010.

You were in 1980, and your story was featured in Playboy and I was reading it across time 30 years later.

For many, then and now, your work appearing in that publication would be a natural fit. There were quite a few opinions of your writing back in 1980  and into the 90s (plenty of hate) the early 2000s as well as in 2010 – and now, when you are discussed/studied, their opinions are colored by our societal shifts…as they should be. 

I loved your writing back in 2010, and now almost 10 years later, I still love your writing.

It was this anthology that brought me closer to you. I saw you develop and it allowed me to explore the critical discussion of your work. I learned so much.

And now, you are back in my life.

I rushed to this story, not only because it is the last one in this edition, and I’m so over this particular year, but it had been some time since we last had some time together.

I finished your story well over a month ago and I fell down the rabbit hole of researching you again.

That was a mistake.

I should have left well alone.

I climbed out of the hole, lessons learned, and here we are.

So, this story…

About three years ago, my sister and I cleaned out my mother’s house. We moved her into an apartment. It was the house that I moved into when I was 5 and my sister was 2.

We disturbed dust and pulled pictures off the walls that hadn’t moved in close to 40 years.

Curtains were pulled down and light shined in corners that were dark for a lifetime.

We did the cleaning in the summer and it was hot and sweaty. 

We piled boxes on the curb that were picked through by strangers. What they didn’t scavenge, the city trash collectors picked up with a giant claw truck.

We held an estate sale allowing strangers to tromp through the house and pay cents for what we and she spent good money on years before.

The house was too big for her and physically, she was too small for the house.

I thought a lot about that move and my mother while reading this story.

On occasion, I’ll drive past that house, my mother’s the one I was raised in and the memories come flooding back. 

Playing in the front yard, riding up and down the block on my bike, my skateboard. The early mornings - pushing my bike past the parked cars in the driveway so I could deliver the daily newspaper. 

Sitting on the front porch with friends. 

I look up at the attic window, my room, my refuge from age 13 to 18. 

The days I spent lying on my bed looking down at the street where I now sit in an idling car looking up at the empty windows.

So, Updike’s Sandstone Farmhouse took me back to my house, to those memories of EVERYTHING that happened there. 

Updike does that to me  - and I appreciate and love his writing for this. 

Dog Stories – Francine Prose

“Dog Stories” comes partly out of my continuing interest in the way people tell their stories – in this case, stories about dogs. … People never talk about nothing, not even when they seem to. There are always secret and interesting reasons for the stories they decide to tell and for the moments at which they choose to tell them.” – Francine Prose

I don’t find myself in the position much to be on the receiving end of a good dog story. Most stories that come my way are through work, and I can’t really call those “stories”.

I suppose a reason that I’m not on the receiving end is that I’m rarely in social situations that allow others to tell me stories. I don’t have a large social circle and most stories that come my way are told to me by my children.

The advice that Prose gives above though can be used with those stories because my kids are great at choosing the times to tell me their stories.

Through this BASS reading exercise, I have found a great spark to tell some of my stories. The story randomly finds its way to me across time and provides the spark to ignite the process of thought. Sometimes this process can last days, weeks or months. Sometimes I can relate to a story immediately.

What is unfortunate though is that I find myself falling into the habit of not reading and in turn, not telling my stories.

American, Abroad – Joyce Carol Oates

Sitting on this book again. 

Work and life continue to get in the way. How many times can I use that excuse? I can’t keep using those as excuses. 

I can’t wait to write the wrap-up of this volume to see how long it took me to finish this volume. 

It’s going to be redic.

I finished reading this story over a month ago and I’m finally getting around to writing about it.

When I read that JCO is included in a BASS volume I’m pretty excited to plow through the stories to reach and read it. This story was featured towards the end of the volume and I was similarily excited to read it…but unfortunately, it did not deliver what I expected.

Thinking of my expectations, and all the changes that I have experienced in my life over the lifespan of this project I wonder if my expectations have morphed as well.

Perhaps the “feelings” of expectations the correct atmosphere to be enveloped in before during and after this story because there is quite a bit of “expectation” in this story.

The expectation of physical violence, the expectation of a meeting – or a friendship…

Expectations are a very dangerous thing. 

Set them too high and you’ll find disappointment. Set them too low and perhaps, resentment, anger jealousy.

So…lesson from JCO – check your expectations.

Willing – Lorrie Moore

What I recognize and appreciate about Moore’s writing is that I find it very accessible. 

In a story that Moore calls a “stray” on her steps, she does a wonderful job of pulling me in and capturing my interest in a character that I normally wouldn’t find an attraction to.

I think that many can relate to this character as at some point in our life we have felt that we were once “something”, or “could have been something” but as our life moved forward things just didn’t pan out the way that they should’ve. Perhaps those instances are just phases which land us in uncomfortable situations – (not necessarily a Days Inn), but sometimes these things can sink you for awhile.

The story felt very early ‘90s...perhaps that aided in the appeal for me. 

Moore was in her early 30s when she wrote this story – a bit outside of the Generation X label but perhaps this gave her the skills to translate some of those all too familiar clichés used to describe the generation about to get tagged with this label.

But, as a story in a collection, wedged between other shorts, I didn’t feel “full” at the end of the story. 

I was given a taste, a few bites – but a few more would have filled me up and left me completely satisfied.

Moore is a short story powerhouse as we will discover.

This is the second appearance by Moore in The BASS, with her first being in 1990 –  with You’re Ugly Too. 

Moore appears 5 more times in The BASS – 1992, 1993, 1998, 1999 and 2013 with all the stories but one appearing in The New Yorker (outlier is The Paris Review).

Moore was the guest editor of The Best American Short Stories 2004 and in 2015, and she served as the guest editor for a centennial anthology from the series, 100 Years of The Best American Short Stories.

Willing was published in the New Yorker in the May 14, 1990 issue. 

I was still in high school – about a month away from graduation - about to enter into a strange new world.

Viva La Tropicana – Leonard Michaels

 (January 2, 1933 - May 10, 2003)

What a fun story.

Michaels wrote in the Contributor’s Notes, that this story wrote itself.

You can feel it even before you read that. 

This story is written with such authenticity but contains such fantastical imagery in almost a double negative of reality that you have to believe that most of it is…not fiction.

Make sense?

This is the type of story that pulled me back into this anthology – at least for awhile – and I could be so fortunate that the rest of the stories in this volume measure up to its brilliance. 

I see that Moore, Munro, Oats, Prose and my favorite, Updike remain – so perhaps there is hope. 

I hang my hopes that my ability to write again can be ignited by these five authors.

You see, I have found myself saying to myself many times over the past year that “I struggle with original thoughts.”

I believe that I have them but I have a very difficult time voicing them. 

“How could this be?” you may ask as you read my original thoughts.

The struggle is real.

Take this project for example. It’s 2019. 

When I started this project and laid out a rough schedule of how many stories I needed to read each week from the 1978 edition to the latest edition of the anthology, it seemed very “doable”. 

I figured that out roughly 4,000 days ago – yup, almost 11 years ago. 

So now it’s 2019 and I’ve only covered 1978-1991.

A rough calculation of stories from 1991 – 2019 lands me at around 570 stories. 

Ooouufff.

That number hurts. 

Is it out of reach? 

No.

So why did I circle back around to writing about this project and the mountain I must climb to catch-up (Do I even need to catch –up)?

Perhaps this story reassured me that anything is possible. That even the most fantastic, off the wall, schemes can work – if you have the drive and will.

I suppose time is a factor too – which plays in this story - and I do have time. 

Time is one of the most valuable commodities in my life right now. I have found that I was wasting portions of it on meaningless tasks/pursuits. 

Evaluating this project, I see the value in investing my time in reading these stories. 

So, with that, I thank you Leonard Michaels and Viva La Best American Short Stories!