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Any Given Power
Any Given Power is peopled with deftly drawn characters who puzzle through their lives in cities and small towns across Canada. In twelve perfectly formed stories that "open to the universal like a beautiful dark rose" (Globe & Mail), York turns her courageous stare to the haunting and bewildering pull of desire, contemporary racism and poverty, the family, with all its impossible circles and affections, and the multitude of injuries, losses, and moments of grace that define us
200 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1999
32 people want to read
About the author
Alissa York
14 books71 followersBorn in 1970, Alissa York has lived all over Canada and now makes her home in Toronto with her husband, writer/filmmaker Clive Holden.
York's award-winning short fiction has appeared in various literary journals and anthologies, and in the collection, Any Given Power, published by Arbeiter Ring Publishing in 1999. Her first novel, Mercy, published by Random House Canada in 2003, was a Canadian bestseller. Dutch, French and US editions have appeared since.
York's novel Effigy was published by Random House Canada in April, 2007, and was short-listed for the Giller Prize. International rights to the book have sold in Holland, Italy, France and the US.
York's award-winning short fiction has appeared in various literary journals and anthologies, and in the collection, Any Given Power, published by Arbeiter Ring Publishing in 1999. Her first novel, Mercy, published by Random House Canada in 2003, was a Canadian bestseller. Dutch, French and US editions have appeared since.
York's novel Effigy was published by Random House Canada in April, 2007, and was short-listed for the Giller Prize. International rights to the book have sold in Holland, Italy, France and the US.
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
January 3, 2016
Any Given Power is a short story collection by Canadian author Alissa York.
I read her novel-length work, 'Fauna,' previous to picking this up. Because of my overall positive experience with Fauna, I was expecting a solid read with Any Given Power. I was pleasantly surprised at the richness of the stories within.
These stories seemed looser, less concerned with hitting a tight succession of beats; more free of hand while also possessing a confidence of tone and intent that results in good, driven storytelling. They don't feel rushed, yet they are engrossing and move at a good pace. I really liked the balance that she struck here, between introspection, detail, poetic license vs. moving the story forward, keeping the reader interested, being efficient with the language.
The stories are: Sad Bastards, Those Who Trespass, Stitches, Clues, Thank Christ it was Winter, Redbreast, Worst in the Back Field, The Hunter, Evolution, A Real Present, No Stone on the Grave, The Back of The Bear's Mouth and Baptiste.
Here are some highlights/impressions from some of the stories within.
There are several stories that feature a character named Robin, and I enjoyed these the most. In addition, the story Sad Bastards still haunts me in the best way. The latter was a powerhouse of a story, and a great way to start the collection.
Clues is also really good, as it's told in snapshots of a child and her family life. We end up with the unasked question, Okay, what are these clues of? By the snapshots themselves, what they contain and what they shape, there is a certain slant of possible questions that these could act as clues to; but the itching question is, what exactly happens after? It's a well-done concept.
No Stone on the Grave feels like the follow-up to Clues, even though the girls that are featured in these stories have different names. There are vignettes of the time the narrator spent playing with one of her friends, and what she observed of her friend's mother, who she is convinced is a troll. From the vignettes, it becomes clear that this comparison is figurative rather than literal; but the narrator's instance forces the comparison between 'real' and 'imagined' monsters and seems to ask the question, is there really a difference? This story adds to the overall otherworldly tone that the collection has, despite dealing with contemporary realistic dramas.
Stitches is also composed of a string of snapshots, only more fleshed out, less impressions than they are little encapsulated stories within the larger one. It also has a a really neat idea - seven sections, one for each stitch in the narrator's hand from an accident that reminds them of their dad, and their relationship, which is then revealed in said sections.
Thank Christ it was Winter is another story in the collection that delivers a gut-punch. I respect the restraint that she showed here; she outlined the bleak situation and was very careful with the details that she shared, to spare it from getting too heavy-handed. This tactic, in combination with the harsh elements, the narrator's unsympathetic view of their neighbours and the circumstances that they faced all combined to fill the spaces in-between what was said. This allows the reader to come to their own conclusions, rather than have it spelled out to them in what could have come across as a moralizing story.
The Hunter, told from the perspective of a child who is fascinated and afraid of the Natives that live near them, is told in much the same fashion.
My one major criticism, and this is what kept me from giving this five stars, is that Baptiste starts out as really intriguing, and kind of spins out into a prodigal-daughter-returning-to-the-small-town-she-left-to-pursue-an-art-career-in-the-big-uncaring-city tale, complete with a scene where she gives her ex a public comeuppance while taking the moral high road as she does it.
The end result is that Baptiste felt like something between a fable and a cliché, with a dash of carefully revised fantasy revenge scene. There are other aspects to the story that lent it this feel to me, but I don't want to say too much.
I felt like this story didn't really flow with the rest of the collection. This impression was somewhat lessened from it being the last story, so that it wasn't bracketed by two stories that were unlike it, but I honestly feel that it would have serviced the collection better to have saved it for another book. Overall, it is still worth the read, as the first half of the story is successful in capturing the imagination, and the characters are pretty solid.
The language that's chosen throughout the collection tends to lean toward the macabre, something dark and sour; 'Half the distance of the scooping school road, grey through the houses and and flat as a snake hammered flat on a rock (The Hunter);' The yard's long basin, sloped on all sides so you can run end to end like a marble in a bowl. Only there's one corner where we never run; the corner where a perfect white boulder rises up from the ground. Troll boulder, we call it, though never in earshot of the brown cake house. Carol's mother is a troll (No Stone on the Grave); 'Even though my parents were right there, I felt afraid of his hand - his calloused, old man's hand on my skin turned golden and amphibious by the lake. His sad, sugary breath. The smell of hops and loneliness in my face (A Real Present);' 'I lay down on my back, clawing the sand, lifting handfuls to sift down my thighs, my belly, my breasts. I closed my eyes and the sand pooled in the sockets (Evolution);' 'But it's more than the dogs. You can see a dog attack, name it, horrify yourself with the thought of your small hands pulled off like mittens, tossed and torn in their glittering teeth (The Hunter).'
With the exception of Evolution, these stories are not fantastical in nature; and yet, the language evokes a Brother's Grimm, nightmarish dazed existence for many of the characters and situations. This is a common thread that works to unite the stories very well. The book's title, Any Given Power, is a phrase that is taken from the Oxford English Dictionary definition of the word 'evolution.' It's interesting to note this in conjunction with the fact that the only story in the book that is out-right fantastical is named Evolution. To me, this suggests that the other stories, each with their own comparisons, allusions and language of a fantastical nature, are somehow evolving toward or from a fantastical state.
There is also an inherent aspect of inheritance and genetics here; a 'given power,' an evolution, that works well with the dysfunctional/broken relationships within the families that are featured in these stories. When combined with the fantastical language/allusions, the theme of inheritance makes the quiet suggestion that there is something inherently fantastical about families and the ties that bond.
Further, it could be said that fairy tales, folktales et cetera experience their own kind of evolution as they are passed down from generation to generation, and change from decade to decade. They are also culturally inherited knowledge; a meme, which evolves over time along with the person that carries it; perhaps even changing the person in the process.
Other common motifs are a clueless, distant, and absently loving father figure, and a cold, distant, harshly judging mother figure. Sometimes the father is the one that's harsh, and sometimes the mother figure is warm; but there is always a sense of disconnection in the family dynamics. The main characters and progeny of these unions, usually female but not always, are searching for ways to connect with their world, with others and with themselves, usually in a confused and groping way.
I have attempted to capture the flavour of some of the stories here via quotes, without giving away too much. These are some of my favourite bits:
'Looks like somebody's been partying.' Danny tried out a grin, but in the half-light of that place it just made him look creepy. We both knew the bottles weren't from any time recent. Somehow you don't pay attention when you're a kid. It hit me that they must've been drinking that whole time - him and Gerry Fines and Uncle Ray - the whole time we were out making snares in the woods, or laying in the tent outside, me scaring the shit out of Danny, saying, 'D'ya hear that? It's a big mother, whatever it is.'
But that's what goes on, I guess. It's nothing so different. It's just what men do when they're out hunting or fishing. Anywhere there's no woman to look at them sideways.' - Sad Bastards
'The knife was sharper than I thought. My hand carved open at the touch of it, the way watermelons do when they're ready.' - Stitches
'Your hand swings up and back behind - but this is the part I can't figure. I know it was a scythe. I know that you tried to hack that grass and somehow hacked your hand instead, but when I think of it, that's not what I see. What I see is a hawk. It sits up on your cutting hand the way hunters used to train them. Eyeing your brown fist in the grass.' - Stitches
'The hall was hot, already crowded, and when I slipped off my jacket I could feel Leif looking, and other men too. My arms were bare. The dress was hugging up under my tits, making them feel special somehow, like they were somehow rare.' - Redbreast
'He fit into me like something I'd been missing, like something finally come home.' The Back of the Bear's Mouth
Recommended for fans of Canadian lit; people who enjoy short stories, modern fairy tales (even though excluding Evolution there are no fairy tales per se), stories around dysfunctional family dynamics.
I read her novel-length work, 'Fauna,' previous to picking this up. Because of my overall positive experience with Fauna, I was expecting a solid read with Any Given Power. I was pleasantly surprised at the richness of the stories within.
These stories seemed looser, less concerned with hitting a tight succession of beats; more free of hand while also possessing a confidence of tone and intent that results in good, driven storytelling. They don't feel rushed, yet they are engrossing and move at a good pace. I really liked the balance that she struck here, between introspection, detail, poetic license vs. moving the story forward, keeping the reader interested, being efficient with the language.
The stories are: Sad Bastards, Those Who Trespass, Stitches, Clues, Thank Christ it was Winter, Redbreast, Worst in the Back Field, The Hunter, Evolution, A Real Present, No Stone on the Grave, The Back of The Bear's Mouth and Baptiste.
Here are some highlights/impressions from some of the stories within.
There are several stories that feature a character named Robin, and I enjoyed these the most. In addition, the story Sad Bastards still haunts me in the best way. The latter was a powerhouse of a story, and a great way to start the collection.
Clues is also really good, as it's told in snapshots of a child and her family life. We end up with the unasked question, Okay, what are these clues of? By the snapshots themselves, what they contain and what they shape, there is a certain slant of possible questions that these could act as clues to; but the itching question is, what exactly happens after? It's a well-done concept.
No Stone on the Grave feels like the follow-up to Clues, even though the girls that are featured in these stories have different names. There are vignettes of the time the narrator spent playing with one of her friends, and what she observed of her friend's mother, who she is convinced is a troll. From the vignettes, it becomes clear that this comparison is figurative rather than literal; but the narrator's instance forces the comparison between 'real' and 'imagined' monsters and seems to ask the question, is there really a difference? This story adds to the overall otherworldly tone that the collection has, despite dealing with contemporary realistic dramas.
Stitches is also composed of a string of snapshots, only more fleshed out, less impressions than they are little encapsulated stories within the larger one. It also has a a really neat idea - seven sections, one for each stitch in the narrator's hand from an accident that reminds them of their dad, and their relationship, which is then revealed in said sections.
Thank Christ it was Winter is another story in the collection that delivers a gut-punch. I respect the restraint that she showed here; she outlined the bleak situation and was very careful with the details that she shared, to spare it from getting too heavy-handed. This tactic, in combination with the harsh elements, the narrator's unsympathetic view of their neighbours and the circumstances that they faced all combined to fill the spaces in-between what was said. This allows the reader to come to their own conclusions, rather than have it spelled out to them in what could have come across as a moralizing story.
The Hunter, told from the perspective of a child who is fascinated and afraid of the Natives that live near them, is told in much the same fashion.
My one major criticism, and this is what kept me from giving this five stars, is that Baptiste starts out as really intriguing, and kind of spins out into a prodigal-daughter-returning-to-the-small-town-she-left-to-pursue-an-art-career-in-the-big-uncaring-city tale, complete with a scene where she gives her ex a public comeuppance while taking the moral high road as she does it.
The end result is that Baptiste felt like something between a fable and a cliché, with a dash of carefully revised fantasy revenge scene. There are other aspects to the story that lent it this feel to me, but I don't want to say too much.
I felt like this story didn't really flow with the rest of the collection. This impression was somewhat lessened from it being the last story, so that it wasn't bracketed by two stories that were unlike it, but I honestly feel that it would have serviced the collection better to have saved it for another book. Overall, it is still worth the read, as the first half of the story is successful in capturing the imagination, and the characters are pretty solid.
The language that's chosen throughout the collection tends to lean toward the macabre, something dark and sour; 'Half the distance of the scooping school road, grey through the houses and and flat as a snake hammered flat on a rock (The Hunter);' The yard's long basin, sloped on all sides so you can run end to end like a marble in a bowl. Only there's one corner where we never run; the corner where a perfect white boulder rises up from the ground. Troll boulder, we call it, though never in earshot of the brown cake house. Carol's mother is a troll (No Stone on the Grave); 'Even though my parents were right there, I felt afraid of his hand - his calloused, old man's hand on my skin turned golden and amphibious by the lake. His sad, sugary breath. The smell of hops and loneliness in my face (A Real Present);' 'I lay down on my back, clawing the sand, lifting handfuls to sift down my thighs, my belly, my breasts. I closed my eyes and the sand pooled in the sockets (Evolution);' 'But it's more than the dogs. You can see a dog attack, name it, horrify yourself with the thought of your small hands pulled off like mittens, tossed and torn in their glittering teeth (The Hunter).'
With the exception of Evolution, these stories are not fantastical in nature; and yet, the language evokes a Brother's Grimm, nightmarish dazed existence for many of the characters and situations. This is a common thread that works to unite the stories very well. The book's title, Any Given Power, is a phrase that is taken from the Oxford English Dictionary definition of the word 'evolution.' It's interesting to note this in conjunction with the fact that the only story in the book that is out-right fantastical is named Evolution. To me, this suggests that the other stories, each with their own comparisons, allusions and language of a fantastical nature, are somehow evolving toward or from a fantastical state.
There is also an inherent aspect of inheritance and genetics here; a 'given power,' an evolution, that works well with the dysfunctional/broken relationships within the families that are featured in these stories. When combined with the fantastical language/allusions, the theme of inheritance makes the quiet suggestion that there is something inherently fantastical about families and the ties that bond.
Further, it could be said that fairy tales, folktales et cetera experience their own kind of evolution as they are passed down from generation to generation, and change from decade to decade. They are also culturally inherited knowledge; a meme, which evolves over time along with the person that carries it; perhaps even changing the person in the process.
Other common motifs are a clueless, distant, and absently loving father figure, and a cold, distant, harshly judging mother figure. Sometimes the father is the one that's harsh, and sometimes the mother figure is warm; but there is always a sense of disconnection in the family dynamics. The main characters and progeny of these unions, usually female but not always, are searching for ways to connect with their world, with others and with themselves, usually in a confused and groping way.
I have attempted to capture the flavour of some of the stories here via quotes, without giving away too much. These are some of my favourite bits:
'Looks like somebody's been partying.' Danny tried out a grin, but in the half-light of that place it just made him look creepy. We both knew the bottles weren't from any time recent. Somehow you don't pay attention when you're a kid. It hit me that they must've been drinking that whole time - him and Gerry Fines and Uncle Ray - the whole time we were out making snares in the woods, or laying in the tent outside, me scaring the shit out of Danny, saying, 'D'ya hear that? It's a big mother, whatever it is.'
But that's what goes on, I guess. It's nothing so different. It's just what men do when they're out hunting or fishing. Anywhere there's no woman to look at them sideways.' - Sad Bastards
'The knife was sharper than I thought. My hand carved open at the touch of it, the way watermelons do when they're ready.' - Stitches
'Your hand swings up and back behind - but this is the part I can't figure. I know it was a scythe. I know that you tried to hack that grass and somehow hacked your hand instead, but when I think of it, that's not what I see. What I see is a hawk. It sits up on your cutting hand the way hunters used to train them. Eyeing your brown fist in the grass.' - Stitches
'The hall was hot, already crowded, and when I slipped off my jacket I could feel Leif looking, and other men too. My arms were bare. The dress was hugging up under my tits, making them feel special somehow, like they were somehow rare.' - Redbreast
'He fit into me like something I'd been missing, like something finally come home.' The Back of the Bear's Mouth
Recommended for fans of Canadian lit; people who enjoy short stories, modern fairy tales (even though excluding Evolution there are no fairy tales per se), stories around dysfunctional family dynamics.
September 6, 2016
A nice collection of twelve short stories (several of which have won awards) with varied settings in small town and urban Canada. Young high school girls in one restaurant towns who fall for migrating uneducated workers who work on the pipelines, thinking your playmate’s mother is a troll, the dreariness of life for women in these situations and the loneliness of the outsider all come into play. She does add humorous details and shows that there is hope for Robin, and her friends. Nor does she back off from the racism of small towns; she is afraid of the First Nations people who live nearby. The harshness of the mother and the detachment of the father in most of the stories is a very common trope in so many Canadian short stories, as well as the perpetual boozing of the young me. I will try to read more of her.
January 16, 2014
But for the last, and longest, story in this book, it would have gotten only 1-2 stars. I found most of the stories to be unengaging. I did not buy into the characters and whatever it was they were about. That all changed with the last story, titled "Baptiste." This story is long -- 61 pages or 1/3 of the entire collection of 13 stories. It was very good. The three main characters were well developed. The story moves back and forth between the three characters as individuals and as the interact with each other. Sean is a truck driver being tortured by a dream. Maggie is an actress who realizes she needs to leave a bad situation. Elsie is Maggie's grandmother whose long term lover is dying. The three come together, for the better of all.
March 4, 2016
4.5 Stars. I love short stories and these are beautifully written. At times the writing is like a snapshot or a painting. Visual, gritty and, at times, visceral. Like Danielle's great review, I agree that the final story is a bit formulaic having begun with such powerful images, but loses the mythic nature of both story and character as it plays out. Great story. Very readable, but not as tight as the others. I know I'll read this collection again. Recommended for those who love visual short fiction that transports.
March 18, 2023
Well-written but I prefer uplifting fiction. It is a good pick for anyone wishing compelling tales with raw insights.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews