John Miedema

Short story collections are sometimes considered the awkward little brother of novels. It has been said that the short story is an art form in decline. Given the much-documented hurried lives and shorter attention spans of North Americans today, one might expect the short story to be the ascendant form of reading. But this assumes the short story is a trivial thing, quickly dashed off between other activities. If you are only looking for a quick read, I recommend staying away from short stories. One is never enough and they do not release you easily. Allow me to introduce you to a few:

Murder Most Crafty is edited by Maggie Bruce. It is mystery and chick-lit, with fifteen stories promising “criminal handiwork and the art of deduction”. Each story combines a murder with a traditional craft. In “The Collage to Kill For”, Mattie’s success with paper-making really helps pay the medical bills until she is found murdered by her friends. Was Mattie using her new craft to manufacture money? No. Is there a clue in her collages? Perhaps. This story is followed by instructions for an herbs and flowers papermaking project. This snappy set of stories is populated with ordinary women who enjoy crafts, and peppered with strong female supporting characters, such as Sheila Dawson, aka Smart Cookie, the local chief of police. No doubt the extra craft projects will keep you very busy. What sort of novel gives you that?

Equally light and humorous is Stuart McLean’s Home from the Vinyl Cafe. If you listen to CBC on Sundays around Christmas you may already be familiar with McLean’s holiday classic, “Dave Cooks the Turkey”: “Did you take the turkey out of the freezer?” [Morley] said. Dave groaned. He pulled himself out of bed and went downstairs. He could’t find a turkey in the freezer in either freezer and he was about to call for help when the truth landed on him like an anvil. Looking after the turkey, something he had promised to do, meant buying it as well as putting in the oven.” Sixteen stories tell the silly predicaments of Dave and Morley, usually Dave, through the four seasons of a year. This delightful read will appeal to rural and older folks, and those of us who love the particular brand of stories that are ineffably Canadian. It is a distinctly gentle read. It makes one wonder why we allow our lives to get so busy.

Taking a darker turn, Home Schooling is a collection of eight short stories told by another Canadian author, Caroline Windley. In these stories, missing people overshadow the lives of young women. After a student drowns, Annabel’s father strives to reopen his private school, but Annabel dreams of escaping the island with her math tutor. After Nadia’s mother leaves her father the woodcarver for a logging mogul, Nadia struggles to please everyone. Lydia’s grandmother survives the horrible death of her family, but the suffering is passed across generations. Windley looks deeply into the complex and dark inner lives of her characters, contrasting them against the bright and untouched backdrop of rural Vancouver Island in the sixties. A finalist for the Giller prize in 2006, her stories are literary, introspective and emotional. At least one of these stories will hit home for you. Not a quick read.

Another Giller prize finalist is Bill Gaston’s Mount Appetite. As the title suggests, this collection of twelve short stories testifies to the pleasures and inevitable consequences of the indulgence of desire, be that sex, drugs, money, or even the hunger for simple companionship. In “The Hangover”, Keith is a cellist who likes everything, except people. He shows up on a camping trip with his two boorish brothers only because he feared what they would have done if he had not shown up, likely a prank involving dragging him out in the middle of the night to drink scotch. But why would his showing up stop them? “Wait wait wait.” Raymond ran after him, all brow-knit concern. He held high a plastic cup brimming with and spilling scotch. “Open.” Breathing hard, he held the cup to Keith’s mouth. “C’mon. Open. Need some, fuel for the hike.” Keith opened. Thus begins a night of madness and crisis. A visceral collection of stories that is also cerebral in its explorations, symbolic in its story elements, and often mystical in its resolutions. This one will make you think.

Bloodletting & Miracle Cures

November 16, 2002 (from the files of the World Health Organization) First known case of atypical pneumonia occurs in Foshan City, Guangdong Province, China, but is not identified until much later.

Initial consultation note of Dr. Zenkie, FRCPC, dated March 15, 2003 — excerpted from chart with permission of Toronto South General Hospital) ID: Dr. Fitzgerald, 29 years old. It has since become apparent that a patient whom Dr. Fitzgerald transported from Shenzhen, China, to Vancouver, Canada, has died of pneumonia and that Dr. Fitzgerald likely contracted his illness, which we suspect to be SARS.

Dr. Zenkie puzzles over Fitzgerald’s hand tremours. “This was not part of what most centres were reporting”. Fitzgerald knows what it is: “When he had gotten the fever and cough, he had figured he would blur away the time with some single malt.” Dr. Chen gets quarantined with him and recommends diazepam to handle the withdrawl, but Fitz doesn’t want the others to know. As if they didn’t know when he was removed from duty for showing up drunk in ER. Delores is a nurse, chosen by lottery to serve here. Nurses who didn’t want to serve on the SARS ward had to forfeit their seniority. Fine for the new nurses. Delores had twelve years seniority, a second mortgage and three kids. One of these four people will die of SARS. Who will it be? “Contact Tracing” is one of twelve stories in Dr. Vincent Lam’s collection. Deeply character driven, this literary work is intellectual, written in tantalizing language, interspersed with medical terminology. These stories will stir your blood. Lam was born in London, Ontario and won the Giller prize for this collection.

Is it worth the time to get involved with the characters and plots of short stories if only for a short spell? You tell me …