![]() ![]() The short story is the perfect package for these moral experiments. They, as The Guardian suggests, “invite us to smoke and also to know that we shouldn’t smoke, because it’s lethal.” They are rich with idiosyncrasies they complicate and construct rather than deconstruct, while maintaining a minimalistic form. Instead, they flirt with our moral boundaries. They don’t instruct, they don’t come fixed with trimmed moral tales or explicit meaning. They aren’t just remarkable in their precision – less words, more punch – they pose an entirely different motive than that of the novel. ![]() ![]() Reading a short, there’s always the sense that something creeps just beyond the pages and something vital being pressed a gauzy closeness to the narrative skin. They glut and gut at the same time “concentrate without clotting” and bring the weight of something so much larger to a flimsy ten page read. I’d pick a Joyce Carol Oates or Coover short over long form any day. This should begin with a disclaimer: I adore short stories. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |