Honeydew is Edith Pearlman's first new collection of stories since the National Book Critics' Circle Award-winning Binocular Vision, which brought her to rapturous acclaim on both sides of the Atlantic, and at one stroke established her as 'the equal of Updike or Munro'.
The stories in Honeydew are unmistakably by Pearlman: they are stories that are novels in miniature; whole lives in ten pages. They are minutely observant of people, of their foibles and failings, but also of their moments of kindness and truth.
We almost overlooked Edith Pearlman. Honeydew will confirm how lucky we were that we didn't.
Published in 2015, Honeydew is a carefully crafted set of twenty stories, each unique in the peculiar situations wherein the protagonists find themselves. Yet, underlying them all is a common quest for love and happiness. Despite the sprawling cast of characters, Pearlman endowed each of them with distinct personalities, and readers can identify with at least some of them.
Most of the stories were set in Godolphin, a fictional suburb in Massachusetts populated by doctors, university professors, real estate agents, and smart children. The stories featured conversations and reflections – pivotal moments – that told us much about the characters and what mattered to them. A pedicurist and an antique shop owner offered a non-judgmental listening ear to their clients, which conferred on the former a secular priestly role. A few stories took place in Forget Me Not, an antique shop, in which customers knew their secrets were safe with Rennie, the proprietor, who honored their privacy.
We learn about unconventional love stories, loss and pain, aging and coping, and making the most out of life. The end of these stories usually packed a punch - a surprise, a climatic revelation, a reflection. The resolution was often unexpected and we are left to draw our own conclusions.
Overall, I found this collection less compelling than Binocular Vision. That said, it had Pearlman’s trademark kindness and wisdom. A reviewer, David L. Ulin, Los Angeles Times, said, “The work is smart and deeply rendered, full of striking observations and some of the best sentences you’ll ever want to read.” I agree.
Here are a few of my favorite stories.
Castle 4 This is a story of unconventional love set in Castle 4, a red-brick High Victorian Gothic hospital. Zeph Finn, a socially aloof and awkward anesthesiologist, fell in love with a cancer patient. It suggests that new beginnings are possible for folks irrespective of their past, present, and future. Happiness, however, short-lived is still happiness.
Stone A twice widowed NY resident (age 72) moved to a small stone house in the country to work as a bookkeeper for her late husband’s nephew and live with his wife and young daughter. There is lovely writing about the countryside. There was a sexual attraction in the unfolding of this story that seemed implausible. The ending, however, was wise.
Feeling loved brings happiness. The widow reflected: ‘Happiness lengthens time. Every day seemed as long as a novel. Every night a double feature. Every week a lifetime, a muted lifetime, a lifetime in which sadness, always wedged under her breast like a doorstop, lost some of its bite.’
Blessed Harry This story presented a beautiful family portrait of the Flaxbaums: Myron, a Latin teacher, his wife a surgical nurse, and three sons. Myron received a strange invitation from a professor in Kings College, UK, to give a talk on the mystery of life and death. We see the family sitting down to dinner, going off to school or work, caring for their house plant. The latter had a personality all of its own. A tenderness can be felt in the family members’ affection for each other and a plant whose genus they could not define.
One great quote from this story: ‘Life and death? They were incidental… But what counted was how you behaved while death let you live, and how you met death when life released you. That was the long and short of it.’
Cul-de-sac Daphna, a garrulous Jewish housewife, exhausted her four lady neighbors with her incessant chatter. They each tried to avoid her. It also offered glimpses of Daphna’s university lecturer husband and three bright daughters who helped to keep house since Daphna was unkempt and disorganized. A crisis sent this Jewish family packing for Jerusalem while Daphna's neighbors contemplated life without her and whether she was missed. It was interesting to observe how wanting to mean much to others could be perceived as being inappropriate.
Fishwater The story was told by Lance, an adoptee of Toby, a 60-year-old fictohistoriographer. She was a successful writer who wrote stories with history as diversion. She said, “They are my antidote to the unbearable past.” There were stories, however, Toby was unwilling to write no matter how promising they were for reasons we only later understood. This story was skilfully told and unraveled a secret for Lance.
Wait and See Lyle, a mixed race child, had pentachromatic vision. He had a richer visual experience of the world than others. He developed differently from other children and his mother was told to wait and see. Lyle was ‘sorrowfully alone’ - poor child. What if he had a choice to see normally? But a choice, according to the ophthalmologist is ‘Always an ambiguous gift.’ Fascinating and original story.
Sonny Social hierarchies were described clearly in this story. Sonny was a vegetable man’s son. Dr. Margoli, his wife and daughters bought vegetables from Sonny and his father who pedalled them from a mobile truck. Illness struck both families. Parents, regardless of their rank on the social ladder, cherished hopes for their children. This story had a sad ending and an unexpected prayer that deepened the bleakness.
Honeydew In this titular story, Emily, a student in a private day school for girls, was grossly underweight, and wished to stay thin like an insect. In this story, ‘honeydew’ referred to sweet excrement, a sugary liquid, of the insect Coccidae. Emily who researched extensively on insects believed that manna eaten by the Israelites was merely insect poo. Alice, the headmistress, who was exasperated with Emily, had her own secrets. Both in managing her own life and her adolescent students, Alice was confronted with questions about social expectations. What were the most important rules for life and not just for decorum at school? How did one distinguish between manna and honeydew?
This is the second collection I've read by an author I'd never heard of before this year, and it gets another top rating from me. If I'm being honest, this book isn't quite up to the quality of Binocular Vision, but that was a much larger collection of stories. Honeydew deserves and receives a five star rating from me.
There are a number of very fine short stories in this book. My favorite was "Stone", a story concerning a youthful seventy two year old Manhattan dwelling widow who is invited by her late husband's nephew to spend several months as a bookkeeper for his woodworking business in a southern state. I won't say more than that, except to say that she's a wise woman and, in the end, wisdom prevails.
I'll add a quote from "Cul-de-sac", a story which concerns the relationship between Daphna, a well meaning yenta, and her neighbors, whom she makes crazy. I laughed when I read it.
"'My oldest reads everything she can get her hands on, She reads upon rising, she reads when she goes to bed, she reads while she's chopping onions, she reads in the shower...' 'A remarkable feat.' 'She accomplishes it.'"
There are other Edith Pearlman stories and books that I haven't yet read, and I hope to read all of them. Her writing is that good.
These stories are told in a vey economical use of prose and yet vividly descriptive. Many take place in Godolphin, Mass. And four stories contain Rennie. Two, prominently feature her and her store forget-me knot, and were among my favorites. One story on female circumcision was very hard to read and I have to admit to not understanding the end. What I most liked about these were they were about people living there lives, confronted with something strange or unexpected. How they react to these changes were sometimes unexpected. In one it took till the last line before I figured out why this story was being told. Than I had to smile, thinking aha, finally got it. Brilliant.
Short story readers will find much to admire in this collection.
I don’t know what it is with me lately, but I seem to lack staying power with story collections. I read the first 40% of Pearlman’s most recent book on my Kindle and then just felt no need to continue. You could consider that a virtue of story collections: you can read as much or as little at a time as you want and pick and choose what bits interest you, in a way that you can’t with novels. Or you could say an author must be doing something wrong if a reader doesn’t long to keep turning the pages.
At any rate, I enjoyed Pearlman’s stories well enough. They all apparently take place in suburban Boston and many consider unlikely romances. My favorite was “Castle 4,” set in an old hospital. Zephyr, an anesthetist, falls in love with a cancer patient, while a Filipino widower who works as a security guard forms a tender relationship with the gift shop lady who sells his disabled daughter’s wood carvings. I also liked “Tenderfoot,” in which a pedicurist helps an art historian see that his heart is just as hard as his feet and that may be why he has an estranged wife. “Blessed Harry” amused me because the setup is a bogus e-mail requesting that a Latin teacher come speak at King’s College London (where I used to work). Two stories in a row (four in total, I’m told) center around Rennie’s antique shop – a little too Mitford quaint for me. I’d gladly try something else by the author, though.
Favorite lines: “Happiness lengthens time. Every day seemed as long as a novel. Every night a double feature. Every week a lifetime, a muted lifetime, a lifetime in which sadness, always wedged under her breast like a doorstop, lost some of its bite.” (from “Stone”)
Not my cup of tea. Have you ever read something where the overwhelming, thinks-it's-invisible-but-isn't whiteness makes you feel suffocated by the narrowness of it all? That is how this collection made me feel.
I quit around the 200-page mark, but I'm writing a review anyway because, damn it, is why. There are characters of color in this collection, and they all serve as either a) exotic curiosities to aesthetically please and interest the emotionally-vacant protagonist (e.g. "What the Ax Forgets the Tree Remembers"; "The Golden Swan"); or b) one-dimensional shorthand for the white protagonist's journey toward worldliness, or self-awareness, or whatever (e.g. also "What the Ax Forgets the Tree Remembers"; "Her Cousin Jamie") [or c) an excuse for the author to use the racist term "blackie" - several times in one collection? Someone is fixated.]
To be frank, I quit reading this book because life is just too short and there are too many other books I have to read before I die to waste time on a collection that really, to me, felt soulless. And bland, when it wasn't being otherwise callous and short-sighted.
I gave it two stars, rather than one, because I rather liked the story "Puck."
I had read this short story collection years ago and wanted to revisit it.
As with most books of this kind, I enjoyed some stories more than others and a few left me feeling indifferent. My two favorite stories were:
"Castle 4", which is about a young anesthesiologist (Zeph) who overcomes his shyness when he finds himself falling in love with a certain patient. The story highlights too, the older woman who runs the hospital's gift shop and becomes friendly with the hospital's security guard. As LindaJ on Goodreads wrote, "They are lovely people who live quiet lives and deal with hardships with dignity and grace."
"Puck" refers to a figurine of the mischievous imp, which is brought to an antiques' shop by a grieving widow. The statue represents happy memories of the woman's younger days before she met her husband. Puck presided over an earlier love affair that she had. And the story goes on from there.
In general, I liked how the author portrayed her characters and the interesting surprises she put in the stories. Many tales are set in a fictional suburb called Godolphin near Boston, Massachusetts.
Where has Edith Pearlman been all our reading lives? Right down the road in Brookline, Massachusetts, turning out sparkling gems of short stories that are filled with strikingly intimate observation and precise language and that capture a life and a world in just a phrase. This is Pearlman's fifth collection -- she is now near eighty -- and she was little known until the last one, Binocular Vision, was showered with prizes. Better late than never.
The lives of four young women are shaped by a parlor game as the mother of one of them has them pick from a hat the names of the men they will marry, assuring them that men are "interchangeable" and they will be "happy enough." The headmistress of a girls' school, pregnant with her married lover's child, tries to help his daughter, a brilliant and desperately ill anorexic. A middle-aged real estate agent, contemplating a second marriage that will secure her financial future, is shaken by what she finds in the chaotic home of an annoying neighbor.
Many of these characters who have known loss and disappointment have learned to adjust their expectations, have found that they can indeed be "happy enough" as they navigate complex relationships and surprising turns. Edith Pearlman is generous to her characters, gives them the gift of quiet determination and moments of grace.
If you love short stories, read these. If you don't read short stories because you think only a novel can deliver the satisfaction of fully developed characters you care about and stories that stay with you, read these.
The quality of the writing is breathtaking. And each story is as satisfying as a novel-something I would rarely (if ever) say about a short story. In a few pages, people, relationships, setting, are so fully presented I feel as though I had entered another world, completely realized. Whether it's the mistress of a girl's school having an affair with the father of an anorexic student, a mother settling the matrimonial futures of her daughter and daughter's friends (with names in a hat), or an overweight young woman on a cruise where she brushes against the real life of the ship's crew and sees beneath the surface of her own life, each story took me to a whole new place.
That being said, I will add that I can only read Pearlman when I am in the right mood. Her prose is elegant but distanced, the stories wry and ironic and sometimes too pure for me. Sometimes I prefer more mess. At those times, I simply put the book down because when I am in a more patient, calmer state, there is no author I'd rather read than Pearlman.
This one came to my attention when it appeared on the fiction longlist for the National Book Award. I had never heard of Edith Pearlman (apparently I’m in good company there, as everything I read about her mentioned how little-known she is), but I was intrigued when I read that she began her writing career late in life. I’ll read the next twenty-five-year-old wunderkind as eagerly as anyone, but there’s something deeply comforting about people who don’t write (or get published, or find critical acclaim) until they’re of advanced age. It gives me hope for my own future.
I did not expect this collection to be as weird as it was. Some of Pearlman’s imagery was surprising, disturbing, graphic…not at all what I expected from the white-haired, genteel lady on the jacket flap. Respect, Edith. Do your thing. (But also—ew.) I’m trying to think of an example and failing—I must have blocked them out. I think there might have been biting?
There are several stories where the connections between characters are more extensive than they first appear, which was mind-bendy and cool. Overall, though, I don’t know that I entirely “got” what Pearlman was doing, so maybe these were a little more literary than I as a casual reader really wanted.
Secondo libro di racconti (Dopo visione binoculare) di questa incantevole autrice, che leggo. I racconti di Edith Pearlman - colta signora 80enne, che ambienta le sue storie in una cittadina immaginaria del Massachussets - sono racconti che richiamano alla mente le più brave, da Munro a Berlin a Dorothy Parker per il solo fatto che i bravi e le brave sanno muoversi nell'essenziale. Pearlman di suo si tiene distante da vicende trafelate e da esistenze borderline, si muove nella media borghesia, che sa apprezzare quadri, manicure, negozi d'antiquariato. Non è mai noiosa o moraleggiante, spesso è giocosa e quando meno te l'aspetti, perfettamente aspra, come in un bellissimo racconto La discesa della felicità (il più breve della raccolta, racconto di sole 6 pagine) dove la voce narrante, una donna, ricorda un giorno in cui suo padre medico condotto accompagnò lei bambina in campagna per un intervento in emergenza.
"Honeydew" is a collection of short stories. I received this book through the Goodreads/First Reads program for an honest review.
Early reviews gave much praise for this collection of short stories and I highly awaited receiving my copy. However, I am one whom simply didn't fall in love with this collection of short stories.
I feel the settings are often overly described to paint a picture of a place or the attributes of a character which will go on and on for what seems endlessly (yawning ) and your waiting and waiting for something to happen (more yawns), then in less than a few sentences or a brief paragraph, this twist, a quirky observation, or a remark occurs. (that's it no more)
To put it bluntly, say your talking, then someone comes up to you and slaps you for no apparent reason
or
I like to think of it as a painting and than someone comes along and throws a bucket of paint on it, obliterating it.
It's these quick sudden changes with nothing more, that just leaves you there, perhaps to bring more attention to those last words.
Out of the 20 (twenty) stories in this collection, I liked 2 (two). So this collection fails for me.
Eh. I can appreciate Pearlman's use of language-- she really is stellar at economically using prose in a vivid way, but there was just something about these stories that never really took off for me.
The twenty stories in this collection are lovely, elegant, beautifully-written, complex but simply-told glimpses of life. Rarely in stories have I connected with the characters as I did those in these stories.
My favorite among these wonderful stories is "Castle 4." The Castle is Memorial Hospital, bulit just after the Civil War, and located in boston. The first character we meet is Zephyr Finn, an anesthesiologist who specializes in regional anesthesia. He lives in a "three-decker" - a house with three flats. He lives in the top flat. Each of the other flats is occupied by a Filipino family. Occupants of those flats are also important characters in the story, as is the manager of the hospital gift shop. As the characters interact, I could see, without being told, their hopes and dreams. They are lovely people who live quiet lives and deal with hardships with dignity and grace.
Another one that sticks in my mind is "The Golden Swan." In this story, two overweight cousins - one introverted and one extroverted - are given by their grandfather, as a college graduation present, a cruise. Wanting "bright places and good food" they set off on an off-season Caribbean cruise. During the cruise, the introvert loses the appetite that has plagued her, while the extrovert enjoys all the cruise has to offer. But, what is most surprising is what the introvert discovers about the crew. If you have ever been on a cruise, you will feel right at home and will wonder if a couple of things might actually happen on some cruise liners!!
Godolphin, a town "just over the Boston line" makes an appearance in many of the stories, especially the Forget Me Not, a gift/antique store in the town. Pearlman is as good at describing place as she is creating characters.
On the book cover, Ann Patchett is quoted as saying "Put Edith Pearlman's stories beside those of John Updike and Alice Munro." I've not read Updike's short stories but I can agree that Pearlman's stories are of the same superior quality as Munro's. And to think that she published her first collection at age 60!
Read these stories. They are ones that you will want to return to, time and time again.
This is the 9th of the 10 books on the longlist for the 2015 National Book Award that I have read. I like it better than the other two books of short stories, including the one that is one of the five finalists. In fact, in my ranking of the 10 longlist books, it would be number 3 (the only ones I have given 5 stars).
When I requested a copy of this book of short stories, I had no idea what to expect. I’d not read any Edith Pearlman before. This collection of twenty short stories (each of them previously published in various journals) held my attention from the beginning of the first story to the end of the twentieth.
The longest of these stories is 22 pages, most are between 10 and 15 pages. And it’s a tribute to Ms Pearlman’s skill that she can construct a person, a group or family, a setting, a series of events, a lifetime in a way that is self-contained and satisfying to read. Words are not wasted. These stories are about relationships, about observing, about evaluating life choices. Some are unconventional love stories, others remind the reader that happiness can often be found along less conventional paths. Many (but not all) of these stories are set in a fictional Boston suburb inhabited by a multicultural cast of characters.
If you enjoy short stories about people, about possibilities and situations, then you may enjoy this collection. I did. I won’t identify a favourite story, because my view will probably change when I reread the book, but I particularly liked the character of Rennie in ‘Puck’ and in ‘Assisted Living’. Rennie has an antiques business called ‘Forget Me Not’ and while she observes much, Rennie is discreet, and does not offer advice. Each of these stories invites you through a significant event or moment into a life, and then to appreciate (at least part of) that life and to reflect on it. Consider ‘Hat Trick’, in which a recently widowed woman invites four 19 year old girls (including her daughter) to draw the names of their future husbands from a selection of names in a hat. And the result? Fifty years later, the mother is on her deathbed, and the daughter tells her what became of each of the girls: ‘You did a marvellous thing, .. we are all happy enough.’
Note: My thanks to Netgalley and the publisher Hachette Australia for an opportunity to read a copy of this book.
If memory serves me right, the last collection of stories I genuinely loved was Rivka Galchen's American Innovations, which I read a year ago. I think I've lost the ability to appreciate short prose, because this particular collection, raved across the board, left me unmoved. Well. Except for one story: Wait and See, about a young man with a rare condition of the eye. A disappointment, but it's probably more me than the stories themselves.
Don't despair if you think you'll never read a good new short story collection again because you've already read everything by Alice Munro and Margaret Atwood...because here comes Honeydew! I know everyone thought Olive Kitteridge was great, but I found that book only so-so. Honeydew is the real-deal for short story lovers: efficient and brilliant use of language, compact stories always with a surprise (but no "jumping the shark"), and an abundance of pathos and humor.
My only regret about this book is having read it all at one go, rather than doling out these stories as little treats between other books, as there is so much richness here that as beautifully poised as these stories are, the whole experience winds up being a bit cloying by the end. This one begs a return journey, but suffice it to say these are among the best short stories I've read.
I had high hopes for Honeydew after reading several rave reviews. So I was surprised that this very competent collection of stories left me cold. Pearlman writes well-crafted sentences but populates her stories with people I had little interest in. I found myself peeking ahead to see how many pages were left of each story.
Mixed feelings. Beautifully observed, amazing, deeply personal use of language, insightful, wise. Why then only three stars? Why am I not more enthusiastic? For some reason, these stories did not reach me on an emotional level.
I have been going through something of a ‘phase’ with short story anthologies of late so it seemed a good idea to try out Edith Pearlman who been hailed as a true master of the form – quite an achievement given that she was in her seventh decade before she released her first collection. I find anthologies such as Honeydew really interesting in that they have been collated from various pieces already released in magazines, giving it a similar feel to a music album – how has the artist chosen to put these disparate pieces, composed under entirely separate circumstances? Does the collection have a cohesive theme or are we dealing with a cluster of unrelated stories? I concluded with the feeling that Pearlman did have an over-arching theme, but if asked what it was I would probably just wave my arms awkwardly and say it was ‘something to do with kindness’ – each of the stories were deeply engrossing but somehow one has the feel that Pearlman is writing to confuse, to make us question – it feels like an anthology designed to baffle.
The stories appear to take place within the same neighbourhood within Boston, Godolphin, with several stories centred around people who work in the hospital and another group based around the frequenters of the Forget-Me-Not antique shop. The protagonists often do feel as if they belong to a certain ‘type’, with various divorced women ‘of a certain age’, confident in their life experiences and with a certain weary cynicism about those who cross their paths. One suspects the voice of Pearlman herself. However, this is not to criticise and indeed it does not prevent a diversity of experiences being represented across the collection. The titular story is set in Caldicott private school, where Alice the headmistress finds herself accidentally pregnant at forty-three, the result of an affair with a pupil’s father. Convinced the governors will request her resignation, Alice attempts to navigate the mire she has ensnared herself in, all the while attempting to find a solution to the predicament of Emily, daughter of the man she is having an affair with, who is in the depths of anorexia and currently relates more closely to insects than people. There are parallels in both their situations, in their mutual self-destruction, both apparently headed towards doom, but the final words of the story reflect not only their own conclusion but also the mood of the book as a whole.
Pearlman meditates on solitude through various of her characters – there is Paige, the grieving war widow pedicurist who hears her customers’ most intimate secrets, then Rennie the owner of the antique shop who tries her best to remain distant from her clients’ affairs but somehow finds herself managing them anyway – but her own life, that’s the hazier question. The occupations of her characters are varied – there is the gift shop owner, the anaesthesiologist, the headmistress, the realtor – Pearlman seems to be attempting to capture a cross section of society in this her fictional neighbourhood, but for each of the players, we observe how they keep a part of themselves guarded, distant from those with whom they come into contact. Even those who are in a crowd remain alone on some level.
These are not stories of grand combustions, they are not dominated by natural catastrophes but more the quiet grind of life. In ‘Hat Trick’, Sallyann’s mother puts the names of the local boys in a hat and instructs Sallyann and her friends to pick one and set out to marry the boy on their piece of paper. According to her, taking this decision – stopping playing around and wondering and just fixing their sights on one boy – will guarantee them a life where they are happy ‘or at least happy enough – it’s more than most people are granted.’ We watch the girls’ fortunes as they move on from this conversation round the table, some of them taking the advice, some not. However, ‘Hat Trick’ is a story of practicality rather than of a witches’ coven – there are no fairy tale endings, even if the older Sallyann assures her dying mother that ‘we are all happy enough’ – is this indeed all we can be allowed to hope for?
There are moments however when certain characters do rebel against their circumstances. Rennie finds her shop used as some kind of creche by customer Muffy’s husband, who drops his wife off for hours at a time – when Muffy becomes ill though, Rennie is silently astonished to be referred to as Muffy’s ‘best friend’ and called in to assist, but yet the role starts to feel true to her. Having been jealous of Muffy’s easy life, different realisations come to her. Another woman, Gabrielle, starts work for her local branch of the Society Against Female Mutilation and is hotly ashamed to fall for one of the women who arrive to testify. To rediscover desire in one’s fifties and in such an unexpected place requires a readjustment of Gabrielle’s worldview and a whole new kind of courage.
Moments of connection feel precious across the collection – the hospital gift shop owner decides to assist the single father, the headmistress reaches out to the anorexic girl, Rennie quietly goes against her habits to encourage a customer to seek closure to an old affair. Some acts are larger than others and some incredibly tiny but yet still there is an observance about Honeydew that gives the feeling that Pearlman has captured something special, moments of life that might otherwise go unremarked. Why should Rennie say to anyone that she has been moved to give advice that day, but yet still it represents a landmark for her and possibly for the customer. This feels like a gentle book, even though there are moments within that have the power to catch the breath – somehow without appearing to try, Pearlman has captured something beautiful an
This collection of short stories dissects a whole variety of human predicaments. Many are located in and around Boston. The characters are very well defined in an economy of words. The settings are beautifully described. I particularly loved "Puck," "Cul-de-sac" and "Wait and See." The prose employed, however, in all of the stories understands the human condition while, at the same time, delivering hugely evocative words and a grand study in sociology.
Edith Pearlman schrijft non-fictie, reisverhalen en kortverhalen. Hoewel ze Amerikaanse is (van Rhode Island) lijken haar verhalen, zowel wat stijl als inhoud betreft, geschreven door een upper-class British woman. Honingdauw is haar vijfde bundel kortverhalen, en bestaat uit ongeveer twintig verhalen van een tiental bladzijden.
De stijl Pearlman vertelt verhalen meestal aan de hand van observaties die mensen doen, of door mensen die over anderen vertellen. Soms is ze de alwetende verteller, maar niet vaak. Aan haar verhalen heeft ze zeker gewerkt. Mooi gekozen woorden, slimme structuur. Ze schrijft klassiek, gaat tot aan de grenzen daarvan. Ze flirt met nostalgie zonder het nostalgisch wordt, soms is er humor, impliciet of expliciet, soms net geen magie. Maar altijd blijven haar verhalen zeer gestileerd, verzorgd, netjes, en geven ze een afstandelijke indruk terwijl er over intieme zaken gesproken wordt.
Daarom was ik in het begin overtuigd, vooral door de stijl. De inhoud moet echter nog volgen, want stijl alleen is niet alles. En, afstandelijk en intiem tegelijk of niet, de verhalen zelf vond ik flauw. Het ontbrak aan pit en goede inhoud. Daardoor werden de verhalen zeurderig en was het uiteindelijk zelfs niet meer mogelijk om te genieten van de stijl.
Een ander nadeel was dat er vrij veel personages zijn, en allemaal worden ze uitvoerig beschreven. Je houdt de uiterlijken van personages niet meer bij, ze worden nietszeggend.
De inhoud In veel van Pearlmans verhalen (niet allemaal) zal een personage, door de observatie of het luisteren naar anderen, een lang verborgen verlangen ontdekken, wat zijn/haar leven een nieuwe wending kan geven. De verhalen spelen zich af binnen een klassiek westers-blank milieu, upper-class, conservatief. Iedereen is lief en goed, zelfs pubers zijn niet lastig. Over godsdienst, ideologie, maatschappijkritiek, wordt niet gerept. Toch beschouwt dit conservatieve milieu zich als ‘ruimdenkend’. Lesbisch zijn kàn bijvoorbeeld. Waw, zeg!
Het is geen realistisch milieu, zeer saai, waar iedereen netjes kleurt binnen de lijntjes van de blanke, westerse cultuur. Hier en daar kan je in de verhalenbundel wel opsnuiven dat Pearlman zich bewust is van die gebondenheid aan dat verstikkende, maar ze heeft geen idee hoe het anders zou kunnen. Voorstellen om anders te zijn, zijn belachelijk (eten met je handen, niet netjes zijn, geen rekening houden met anderen, alleen doen waar je zin in hebt…). Ik kan me inbeelden dat er lezers zijn die graag vertoeven in dat fictieve milieu waarin de westerse cultuur volledig omarmd wordt, en geen enkel conflict bestaat, maar het is niet my cup of tea. Ik vond het maar een treurige bedoening in dat milieu.
Het verhaal ‘Wat de bijl vergeet, zal de boom onthouden’ – opgelet, de inhoud over dit verhaal bevat spoilers. Toch hoop ik dat iedereen die het verhaal leest, ook deze info zal lezen. In Godolphin is een vrijwilligersorganisatie tegen vrouwenbesnijdenis opgericht. Een Somalische vrouw komt getuigen, en vertelt dan telkens over hoe pijnlijk de besnijdenis, maar vooral haar bevallingen waren. Op een dag neemt een andere besneden vrouw de getuigenissen over. Deze vrouw vertelt dat seksuele aanrakingen voor haar een bron van vreugde waren en haar bevallingen helemaal niet pijnlijk waren. Conclusie? Ja, ik moest zwoegen en persen, u weet hoe dat gaat. Maar pijn? Nee.’ De toehoorders waren stil. ‘Het is… een keus die je maakt,’ zei Minata. ‘Je kunt ervoor kiezen iets prettig te vinden of niet.’
Pijn is een keus die je maakt… last hebben van je besnijdenis is een keus die je maakt???
Helaas is dit verhaal afschuwelijk slecht gedocumenteerd en laat het de lezer over met een totaal vertekend beeld over vrouwenbesnijdenis. Want het is zo dat voor besneden vrouwen seksueel plezier vaak nog kan, en het is zeker zo dat bevallingen lang niet altijd pijnlijk zijn. De grootste gevaren van vrouwenbesnijdenis zijn volgens de website ‘mens en gezondheid’ totaal anders (en andere websites vertelden nagenoeg hetzelfde):
Directe gevolgen van besnijdenis kunnen zijn: shock, infectie, beschadiging van het urine kanaal of de anus, vorming van littekenweefsel, tetanus, blaasontstekingen, bloedvergiftigingen, HIV en hepatitis B. Aan deze complicaties kun je doodgaan. ook kun je meteen overlijden door te veel bloedverlies.
Ook op langere termijn komen er steeds terugkerende complicatie kijken als: chronische en steeds terugkerende infecties aan de urinewegen en de nieren, dit kan leiden tot onvruchtbaarheid, cysten en abcessen rond de schaamspleet, pijnlijke zenuwgezwellen, steeds moeizamere afscheiding van urine, gestoorde menstruatie door opeenhoping van menstruatie bloed in de onderbuik, frigiditeit (vaginisme), of zelfs de dood.
Wat een schande om de lezer zo verkeerd te informeren. In de andere verhalen kan je je de vraag stellen of er niet een onderhuidse voorkeur voor het blanke ras, en in ieder geval voor de westerse cultuur aanwezig is. Maar dit verhaal is helemaal misleidend en zonder enig respect voor besneden vrouwen. Zelfs in een fictieverhaal mag dit niet.
I was really surprised that I enjoyed this. Don't usually choose to read short stories, but these stories were so full and rich and you seemed to learn so much about the characters in a few pages! Well written and enjoyable.
A trenchant observer of the human condition. Perceptive, empathetic, imaginative, wise. Story narratives are propelled in precise, fluent prose, unvarnished dialogue and a remarkable cast of characters, always credible, evidently fallible, sometimes likeable, sometimes not.
I was very impressed with Pearlman's "Binocular Vision" short stories and eager to read this new one. I'd say it isn't quite as good but, still, well worth the time.
Pearlman writes interesting short stories, peopled with characters and often set in out-of-the way places. What I so appreciate about her is her singular eye and linguistic and descriptive powers: IN ANATOMY CLASS- "They turned a few pages, and found the circulatory system. And there it was, just what she'd been waiting for: a lumpy device with chambers and ventricles and areries and atriuma--atria--looking nothing at all like a valentine. Yet in one of those ventricles love got born, and then leaped to somebody else's ventricle, from one heart to another, that's how it was, it happened in every story she'd ever read. It happened in palaces and cities and farms and in the neighborhoods. You could be a princess lying in a Castle bed, you could be stuck in a wheelchair, you could be a security guard, you could be a woman with hair like a boy's. The anatomy book did not identify which chamber was the seat of love, but the anatomy book was shy..."
TWO LONG-TIME FRIENDS: "Fern in her fifties had a broad, unlined brow, clear gray eyes, a mobile mouth. She was fit, and her blondish hair was curly and short, and she wore expensive pants and sweaters in forest colors: moss, bark, mist... Really, she should have been considered handsome; she might even have been admired. But those athletic shoulders had a way of shrugging and those muscular lips a way of grimacing that said she expected to be overlooked. As for Barbara-- wide face, wide lap-- she was the kind of person people felt safe telling their stories to. Fine: she liked to listen."
IN AN ANTIQUE SHOP: "She just sat on her high stool behind her jewelry, her brow wide, her jaws wide, her red hair scraped into a topknot, her shoulders square in the inevitable jacket (she owned them in a dozen of colors), her lapel adorned with a single splendid pin. She had none of the softness of a therapist, none of the forgiveness of a clergyperson, none of the piled-up wisdom of an old family friend. Still, calmed by her inexpressive face, people talked. She nodded, never commenting, never making suggestions, never breaking cardinal rule two." (The rule to keep your mouth shut and never offer advice.)
I don't often give books one star. I really disliked this collection of short stories. There are so many issues I have in the 20 stories contained within this book...I could probably write my own book about it. To put it simply, this is the kind of book that could put me into a reading slump.
Things I liked:
Things I hated:
1. No context for story or characters or actions. Just thrown into a story as if we're in the middle of a book.
2. No transitions in stories. Characters jump in and out with no intro to who the hell they are.
3. Stories are abrupt in every way. Sometimes that works, but I don't like it here. It's impossible to connect to any of these characters because everything is so abrupt. Speaking of abrupt, the stories have little to no resolution. They usually end on a completely random note.
4. The author makes several references to people with dark skin in a way that is ignorant at best, and racist at worst.
"There was a dark, thuggish fellow. He probably had a taste for porn."
"Brilliant blackie in a coat of fake lizard."
"But there was a third language, Bella noticed, probably some sort of indigenous Indian dialect. The darker the person and the more menial his task, the more likely he was to use this tongue with coworkers."
"I'm a patient darky."
That is just a small sample of some of the thinly-veiled racist remarks in this book.
5. Cheating/inappropriate intimate relationships is an aspect of nearly every story in this book. And it's treated in a very casual way in every case.
6. One story has a man talking about his granddaughters. We are told that they are both on the curvy side. He calls them sweet girls, and then: "He liked a little flesh on a female, yes sir!" Um...WTF?! That's your granddaughter, PERVERT! That same story has a large passage talking about a character's smelly bowel movement. Just...no. Stop.
I could really go on and on. This was disgusting, and I won't pick up anything from this author in the future.
I wasn't familiar with Edith Pearlman's stories until the publication of "Binocular Vision", a wonderful collection that left me vowing to read anything & everything else by the author. And while I'm not sorry to have read Honeydew, much of it was disappointing. I did enjoy a handful of these interconnected stories (or some relate to others; this isn't a collection that almost forms a novel, as in The Wonder Garden), but there were also pieces surrounding odious characters I wanted to inch further and further away from, two magical realism tales that left me cold, and a couple of other stories that seemed throw-away pieces (lady-chatter-about-lover). However - there is one extraordinary story, already widely dissected and admired: Castle 4. Castle 4 takes place in a hospital built during the Civil War; its interior is contemporary but the original architecture and stone have been left intact, complete with turrets and balustrades; it has become known as the Castle. A fairy tale setting for a modern story of odd, lonely souls. Beautifully spun threads connect one to another and another, spreading its tendrils until the web is complete, and the story is over, much too soon. Only because it could so easily be a novel, a film, an album of songs. When I think of this story, my less favourable reaction to others in Honeydew slip away and dissolve. Castle 4 is luminous.
XXX This was an ARC that I received from Goodreads. Thank you, Goodreads, Edith Pearlman and Little, Brown for making this program work! As usual, Edith Pearlman has produced a beautiful book of short stories. Her voice is clear, her characters are real, and the community of Godolphin, Massachusetts feels like home. I particularly enjoyed Cul-de-Sac, Assisted Living, and Fishwater, but all of these stories are shining pearls. I love how she can take an incidental occurrence and make it into a life lesson easily accepted and heeded by her readers. I hope that she will have many more stories for us to savor and enjoy. This book will go into my keepers shelf so that I may return to Godolphin at will just as soon as my sister and mother finish reading it....