MAINTAINING A KENNEDY LIFESTYLE IS HARD
DISTRACT YOURSELF WITH THESE AMAZING READS
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| Birds of America by Lorrie Moore |
April 2012
If this book was the only thing I got out of my relationship with Assface, I would emerge the victor. I read Moore for the first time in The Paris Review Book: of Heartbreak, Madness, Sex, Love, Betrayal, etc. and fell in love with her straight away. When my ex bought Birds of America I knew I'd read it eventually, but every now and then I over-read one specific literary medium until I can't stand it any longer. Right around the time Assface was reading Moore, I had OD'd on short stories.
I'd recently finished Alice Munro's The Progress of Love, two Carver anthologies, and a McSweeney's. Plus, Assface and I had been on the outs for a while and I was loath to accept any suggestions from him regarding good books, movies, or positive steps to take in order to ensure our relationship didn't wither and die in the very near future.
Needless to say, the book stayed on my "To Read" shelf even though he raved about it forever. I continued to finish the books in the series A Song of Ice and Fire and pretended like I could care less about Moore. Even though when you Google her (yeah, I did) she comes up on sites that lump her together with Munro, Carver, and Flannery O'Conner. I won't even go into how badass that is.
So when my relationship with Assface eventually bit the dust (I wish I'd had a little warning, some foresight), I decided to read Birds of America. It's the only time I can remember my ex being right. Lorrie Moore is amazeballs.
I absolutely hate it when people (my ex) give away to much of anything while describing a book, so I'll attack it from the generic angle of me telling you what's good without going into detail. Unfortunately, this might only work if you agree with my ratings on other books. Which we won't know until I finally get around to posting them.
My favorite story, by far, was her opener, Willing. The main character is stunning, someone you fall in love with on the first page when she mutters something in Latin and again in every sentence following. One of the best passages comes early on:
If this book was the only thing I got out of my relationship with Assface, I would emerge the victor. I read Moore for the first time in The Paris Review Book: of Heartbreak, Madness, Sex, Love, Betrayal, etc. and fell in love with her straight away. When my ex bought Birds of America I knew I'd read it eventually, but every now and then I over-read one specific literary medium until I can't stand it any longer. Right around the time Assface was reading Moore, I had OD'd on short stories.
I'd recently finished Alice Munro's The Progress of Love, two Carver anthologies, and a McSweeney's. Plus, Assface and I had been on the outs for a while and I was loath to accept any suggestions from him regarding good books, movies, or positive steps to take in order to ensure our relationship didn't wither and die in the very near future.
Needless to say, the book stayed on my "To Read" shelf even though he raved about it forever. I continued to finish the books in the series A Song of Ice and Fire and pretended like I could care less about Moore. Even though when you Google her (yeah, I did) she comes up on sites that lump her together with Munro, Carver, and Flannery O'Conner. I won't even go into how badass that is.
So when my relationship with Assface eventually bit the dust (I wish I'd had a little warning, some foresight), I decided to read Birds of America. It's the only time I can remember my ex being right. Lorrie Moore is amazeballs.
I absolutely hate it when people (my ex) give away to much of anything while describing a book, so I'll attack it from the generic angle of me telling you what's good without going into detail. Unfortunately, this might only work if you agree with my ratings on other books. Which we won't know until I finally get around to posting them.
My favorite story, by far, was her opener, Willing. The main character is stunning, someone you fall in love with on the first page when she mutters something in Latin and again in every sentence following. One of the best passages comes early on:
"There were moments of deadness, when she looked out at her life and went "What?" Or worse, feeling interrupted and tired, "Wha-?" It had taken on the shape of a terrible mistake. She hadn't been given the proper tools to make a real life with, she decided, that was it. She'd been given a can of gravy and a hairbrush and told, "There you go."
The whole story is beautiful and haunting and Moore made a character who could end up seeming so cliche into someone you want to call right now to see how she's holding up.
Which is More Than I Can Say About Some People keeps the book going strong. Some of the sentences made me stop completely and reread them; how do you not love a story that has that power? I had to grab a pen and underline a few things because they were so perfectly true. It centers around a mother-daughter road trip and the inner dialogue truckin' through the daughter's mind was especially well written. Also, I realized I'd become angry with one of the characters halfway through the story, and I feel like it's really hard to make a person reading a short story angry- at least it's much harder than making them feel sad or empathetic. So that's pretty badass.
Dance in America was my least favorite story. It's good. It's touching. I just don't have a connection with the characters.
Community Life was brilliant. Insanely good. There was not one moment throughout the story when my mind drifted or I stopped caring about the characters. In fact, any girl who wants to ditch her "carefully learned voice, and a sad past" will likely connect to this story. And doesn't that phrase kind of sum up all of us? In addition, I now know what "Tom Swifties" are, which ramps up my awesome, and the last 3 sentences in the story made me feel like I was punched in the stomach in the best possible way.
I think Agnes of Iowa had a crappy lot because it came on the heels of Community Life which was amazing. It was pretty good and the characters became real enough, but what really fueled this story was its awkwardness. I love awkward.
Charades hurdles itself into Birds of America and is in a dead-heat with Community Life as my second favorite. I have no idea how Lorrie Moore managed to infuse a story that -at first glance- seems to be about anger, with such a ridiculous amount of love. There is no better way to sum up my family. The sheer disgust directed towards other siblings, followed by a sentence that seems so hopeful, and the contrast between losing all knowledge of who your family is, while remembering so well everything that makes them who they are, is stunning. Sad and beautiful and real.
Four Calling Birds, Three French Hens is just a hilarious and easy read with a bottom layer that speaks to everyday life. It's a perfect fit for this spot in the book because everything prior was pretty damn heavy. In a good way.
Beautiful Grade I loved this one. I loved that a man dating a younger woman in a way that comes off a bit desperate is given these kind words from his friend: "...I think you make it look very- tennisy". There are references to political goings-on, bad slogans, and "things dropping into the vagina". What else do you want from her?
I got into What You Want to Do Fine because it carried me through some vivid scenery that meshed beautifully with a couple of characters that I loved from the start. Moore's descriptions of the physical environment in this story stood out, which is perfect because the characters are so big. In addition, the whole story has you wondering- is this the ending or the beginning? Can't beat that.
Real Estate hit me somewhere in the middle. It's impossible to not become wrapped up in the main character and her outlook on a life she's already let go of. And there is a surprise in there that I never expected. But the end felt predictable. And I got that lame feeling when you realize what the story might be leading up to, and you desperately need it to be different because, well you already know what's going to happen, and then what you thought was going to happen, happens. And you get a little angry because, dammit, the main character deserved better! Still, the small relationships (mother and daughter) and the big ones (self and other self) were intense, and when I reread it a second time I liked it even more. Plus, this is another one of her stories that had me underlining poignant sentences like there was no tomorrow.
I'm pretty sure People Like That Are the Only People Here: Canonical Babbling in Peed Onk was the story my ex was talking about when he kept muttering "Oh, man. You shouldn't read this. You're a mom." over and over again, while sitting in his chair and not helping me around the house. (Thanks a ton, Lorrie Moore. You may have played an integral part in our split. The only way you can fix this is by dedicating your next book to me.) But I'd read Terrific Mother in the Paris Review Book and I loved it. It's the story that made me love her, actually. Still, after reading this piece, I understand what he might have been thinking (although, he is my ex, so maybe not), because the story is very different- centered around sickness. Still, I found it sort of optimistic. Obviously I was nervous for a character or two, but the people I really worried about were "bit players" (if there is such a thing in short stories). Don't get me wrong, I did love the story. It just didn't have the emotional effect on me that it seemed to have on my old boyfriend.
The last story is the one I mentioned earlier, the story that made me love Lorrie Moore: Terrific Mother. It's got it all; the mocking of intellectuals, sadness moonlighting as discovery but with the potential to break people and relationships completely in two, beautiful settings, a type of love we all know- maybe to well- and a person who kicks ass at back massages.
In closing, I am embarrassed that I dated someone who often wore very short sweatpants. I am proud to have dated someone who brought home Lorrie Moore's Birds of America.
Which is More Than I Can Say About Some People keeps the book going strong. Some of the sentences made me stop completely and reread them; how do you not love a story that has that power? I had to grab a pen and underline a few things because they were so perfectly true. It centers around a mother-daughter road trip and the inner dialogue truckin' through the daughter's mind was especially well written. Also, I realized I'd become angry with one of the characters halfway through the story, and I feel like it's really hard to make a person reading a short story angry- at least it's much harder than making them feel sad or empathetic. So that's pretty badass.
Dance in America was my least favorite story. It's good. It's touching. I just don't have a connection with the characters.
Community Life was brilliant. Insanely good. There was not one moment throughout the story when my mind drifted or I stopped caring about the characters. In fact, any girl who wants to ditch her "carefully learned voice, and a sad past" will likely connect to this story. And doesn't that phrase kind of sum up all of us? In addition, I now know what "Tom Swifties" are, which ramps up my awesome, and the last 3 sentences in the story made me feel like I was punched in the stomach in the best possible way.
I think Agnes of Iowa had a crappy lot because it came on the heels of Community Life which was amazing. It was pretty good and the characters became real enough, but what really fueled this story was its awkwardness. I love awkward.
Charades hurdles itself into Birds of America and is in a dead-heat with Community Life as my second favorite. I have no idea how Lorrie Moore managed to infuse a story that -at first glance- seems to be about anger, with such a ridiculous amount of love. There is no better way to sum up my family. The sheer disgust directed towards other siblings, followed by a sentence that seems so hopeful, and the contrast between losing all knowledge of who your family is, while remembering so well everything that makes them who they are, is stunning. Sad and beautiful and real.
Four Calling Birds, Three French Hens is just a hilarious and easy read with a bottom layer that speaks to everyday life. It's a perfect fit for this spot in the book because everything prior was pretty damn heavy. In a good way.
Beautiful Grade I loved this one. I loved that a man dating a younger woman in a way that comes off a bit desperate is given these kind words from his friend: "...I think you make it look very- tennisy". There are references to political goings-on, bad slogans, and "things dropping into the vagina". What else do you want from her?
I got into What You Want to Do Fine because it carried me through some vivid scenery that meshed beautifully with a couple of characters that I loved from the start. Moore's descriptions of the physical environment in this story stood out, which is perfect because the characters are so big. In addition, the whole story has you wondering- is this the ending or the beginning? Can't beat that.
Real Estate hit me somewhere in the middle. It's impossible to not become wrapped up in the main character and her outlook on a life she's already let go of. And there is a surprise in there that I never expected. But the end felt predictable. And I got that lame feeling when you realize what the story might be leading up to, and you desperately need it to be different because, well you already know what's going to happen, and then what you thought was going to happen, happens. And you get a little angry because, dammit, the main character deserved better! Still, the small relationships (mother and daughter) and the big ones (self and other self) were intense, and when I reread it a second time I liked it even more. Plus, this is another one of her stories that had me underlining poignant sentences like there was no tomorrow.
I'm pretty sure People Like That Are the Only People Here: Canonical Babbling in Peed Onk was the story my ex was talking about when he kept muttering "Oh, man. You shouldn't read this. You're a mom." over and over again, while sitting in his chair and not helping me around the house. (Thanks a ton, Lorrie Moore. You may have played an integral part in our split. The only way you can fix this is by dedicating your next book to me.) But I'd read Terrific Mother in the Paris Review Book and I loved it. It's the story that made me love her, actually. Still, after reading this piece, I understand what he might have been thinking (although, he is my ex, so maybe not), because the story is very different- centered around sickness. Still, I found it sort of optimistic. Obviously I was nervous for a character or two, but the people I really worried about were "bit players" (if there is such a thing in short stories). Don't get me wrong, I did love the story. It just didn't have the emotional effect on me that it seemed to have on my old boyfriend.
The last story is the one I mentioned earlier, the story that made me love Lorrie Moore: Terrific Mother. It's got it all; the mocking of intellectuals, sadness moonlighting as discovery but with the potential to break people and relationships completely in two, beautiful settings, a type of love we all know- maybe to well- and a person who kicks ass at back massages.
In closing, I am embarrassed that I dated someone who often wore very short sweatpants. I am proud to have dated someone who brought home Lorrie Moore's Birds of America.
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