I prefer novels and narrative nonfiction to the genre of short story. However, I am a huge fan of Lee Martin's work, so I had to read this collection! I'm not sorry that I did.
The stories were intellectually interesting with multi-faceted characters. Behind each story, however, in the usual Lee Martin fashion, lurked something just a little sinister, something just not quite right. Martin is terrific at uncovering the dark shadows that hide inside us, the pieces of our experience or thought processes that we'd really rather other people not know. His characters, whether they are morticians, shoe salesmen, adults, or children, show us our vulnerabilities and flaws. Patiently, skillfully, Martin sets them -- and the reader -- up for a reckoning. I've learned to not take anything in a Martin work for granted; everything that's included in the story needs to be there, needs the reader's attention. His style is simple, but his intention is not, and so while the reading is "easy," it's best to not use this collection for bedtime reading. If you're not fully awake while you're reading these stories, you'll miss something vital; likewise, if you're preparing for sleep, it will later elude you, because the payoff at the end of the story could likely be something that will trouble your rest.
There's depth to these stories, as there is to all of Martin's work. He's a truly skillful writer, so I'd recommend that all my book-lover friends try at least one of his works. You may find yourself a fan, as I have.
A fantastic short story collection about sons and fathers. I loved the way these relationships forced the sons into coming of age moments that felt real and not sentimental. Martin's prose is sturdy, tight, and meaningful. There were several lines per story I found myself underlining, mulling over for their insight and construction. Like Carver, but with more heart, and more understanding into how fathers shape the lives of their sons.
I've read two of Lee Martin's novels, The Bright Forever (finalist for the 2006 Pulitzer Prize) and River of Heaven, and both were great in a quiet, generous, large-hearted way that is reminiscent of someone like William Maxwell. Martin's 1995 Mary McCarthy Prize winning debut collection (yep, another one), The Least You Need to Know, is just as good.
In the forward to the collection, Amy Bloom, the judge for that year's McCarthy prize sums up Martin's work perfectly. She writes: "Martin's work resists the pull of shiny look-at-me prose. . .the inevitable result of too many competent people being encouraged to show off their tricks and erudition as a competitive sport, the other dead-end mix of too much technique and too little heart. Martin wants to tell the story. He wants us to know everyone and give them a chance, to understand what is happening, even as we are shaking our heads at how appallingly, how lame, how stupid, how vulnerable we all are" (xii).
Martin's stories deal mostly with teenage sons and their fathers, and most of the stories hinge on a father's decision. As readers we see that the choices the fathers make are "bad," but Martin never puts us in a position where we judge the father for what he's done. In fact, many times the protagonist sons go along with their fathers' poor choices--sometimes knowingly, sometimes not--and we are then forced to go along with them. I suppose one could criticize the the stories in this collection for being too similar (and they probably wouldn't be entirely wrong); however, since there are only seven stories, I wasn't too bothered by their thematic similarities.
Ultimately, these stories are "moral" in the way that John Gardner, in On Moral Fiction, claimed all true Art is. Gardner writes: "True art is by its nature moral. We recognize true art by its careful, thoroughly honest search for and analysis of values. It is not didactic. . .it explores, open-mindedly, to learn what it should teach. . . .As a chemist's experiment tests the laws of nature and dramatically reveals the truth or falsity of scientific hypotheses, moral art tests values and rouses trustworthy feelings about the better and worse in human action" (19). In stories like "The Least You Need to Know," "Light Opera," "The End of Sorry," and "The Price is the Price," Martin has done just this, and he has done it well.