Guardian Bumper Fiction Issue.

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Guardian Bumper Fiction Issue.

I spent the weekend reading the stories in the Guardian bumper fiction issue: by Eggers, Ali Smith, Murakami, A.M.Homes, Myerson, Faber, Arthur Miller, Alan Warner, and Jackie Kay. I'd read all the authors before except Jackie Kay and, by and large, I thought the stories were better than average examples of the writers' work. The only one I couldn't finish was Arthur Miller's - great playwright, stodgy short-story writer - which is a shame, as he was the only one tackling grown-up material.

My favourite story was "The Broccoli Eel" by Michel Faber, which surprised me because I've read his unimpressive collection "Some Rain Must Fall". He must have really improved in the last few years. Even so, his story, like the others in the Guardian petered out at the end, in my opinion.

I love endings; and I sometimes think there's something wrong with me for that - something reactionary, as if I haven't got the mentality to respond to these tail-off endings as I should.

I suppose these stories count as literary fiction. As such they reveal certain limitations of that approach. Nine stories - five completely or partly about childhood! (And one of the others about an adult behaving like an adolescent when her best friend gets a lover.) I'm not saying I don't like stories about childhood - these writers write especially well about it - but I'd suggest that stories about childhood are an easier, more circumscribed genre, than full-on adult stuff.

Though I enjoyed the stories, I'm disappointed by the emotional and stylistic stuntedness they reveal.

Did any one else read them? What did you think?

d.beswetherick.

sheepshank
Anonymous's picture
So far I've read the first two. Well, half read the Eggers - got bored I'm afraid. Nothing interesting was happening for me. But maybe it was the style, I'm not sure. I like Ali Smith's quirkiness. I have a problem with endings, in my own writing. I can't get away from the thought that it has to be Meaningful or Unexpected. But when I read good stories, I don't mind if they tail off at the end, if they paint a worthwhile picture. It's great to see short fiction in the paper. That's the reason why I bought it. I must get on to the other stories.
Mark Brown
Anonymous's picture
i was looking at the thing sat on the kitchen table (fingers still too sticky to pick it up) and I was wondering exactly how they pulled it together. How did they decide who went in? How was it arranged? Who paid who where? Why don't they regularly print fiction? Do you reckon they were testing the water?
d.beswetherick
Anonymous's picture
They do print a trickle of fiction. My guess is that these writers are "friends of the paper". Julie Myerson and Ali Smith are regular Guardian reviewers, anyway - and good ones. Faber reviews also, though less often, and the first chapter of his "Under the Skin" is up on Guardian online (and it's excellent). Murakami is a fetish of the Guardian (you'd think there weren't any other writers in Japan). Miller is a friend of Michael Billington. These are my guesses. To be fair, the Guardian does ten times more for writing than any other daily or weekly paper, in my opinion. Goliardeys.
Ems
Anonymous's picture
I'm grumpy 'cos I missed this.
alex-j
Anonymous's picture
You can read them all online at But be quick, I gather they're about to start charging for online content...
david floyd
Anonymous's picture
Finally started reading this yesterday. Read the Dave Eggers story. Not too bad. Will read the rest at some point. I always struggle with short stories.
hovis
Anonymous's picture
kept them to read...then forgot..now laid to rest in wheelie bin
Tony Cook
Anonymous's picture
Got it in my bag but immersed in Dead Air by Iain Banks - will get to it next!
Mark Brown
Anonymous's picture
It's sat on our kitchen table, will get around to it Or rather will get around to it if the temperature gets low enough not to stick the pages to my fingers.
d.beswetherick
Anonymous's picture
If you read it outdoors, swart flies keep landing on it, attracted to the gleam.
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