Meh. An 00s word for a very 00s book.
Like Eggers' You Shall Know Our Velocity (2002), it has a pre-lapsarian naivety: stories of middle-class white Americans who, before the crash, rarely worry about money, and who go on holiday to exotic locations and stay wrapped up in their own worlds. A narrative that is embarrassingly honest and likely accurate, but would be unfashionable and frequently vilified online now - especially as it doesn't actively signpost embarrassment and guilt as much as one is supposed to. One could argue that Eggers' writing career has followed that modern therapeutic maxim (that isn't right for everyone, for sometimes these things aid each other simultaneously): deal with your own shit before trying to help others: his early books looked at self, family and friends of similar backgrounds, then he moved on to big political, sometimes global themes.
I enjoyed Velocity a few years ago, but many of these short stories I found quite boring. I used to really like Eggers (also Heartbreaking Work - evidently right for the 'loved-it-at-the-time' tag) and remember saying, possibly not on here, it might have been on a creative writing course pre-GR, that he perfectly captured how things feel and I wished I could write that way. I read about half of How We Are Hungry in 2011 and was fairly impressed then. Now I find it mostly flat and detached emotionally, and characters are dull because they're rarely interested in anything except themselves, family and friends, and express it in a numbed, ordinary way. Which is at least fast to read. They're still working out how they feel about everyday stuff in a late-twenties way - a noticeably bad fit for the characters aged 40+, whose voices rarely sound like they are that age. Currently, Richard Powers is the author who fits ... how I see life, which isn't quite the right phrase, and anyway the very idea of writers fitting your life or outlook at certain points sounds like something from a rubbish, wanky MFA in a comment thread: but emotions and experiences in Powers' fiction are more vivid than in early Eggers, and he and his characters are fascinated by complex topics outside themselves.
Stuff I did like in How We Are Hungry:
-'Your Mother and I': a father, probably 40ish, is reminiscing about life to a pre-teen kid, except he and his wife literally 'put the world to rights' as one can only do in daydreams. Some of it's big stuff, other little personal irritations. It's charming and unexpected, and it clicked with conversations I have with friends about stuff we wish we could change.
Quote: About then, we had a real productive period. In about six months, we established a global minimum wage, we made it so smoke detectors could be turned off without having to rip them from the ceiling, and we got Soros to buy the Amazon to preserve it.
-'Naveed'. A girl, twenties presumably, realises she's about to sleep with her thirteenth person and resolves to pull a fourteenth ASAP so her 'number' won't be 13 and she won't have to hear jokes about a 'baker's dozen' and so on. Her expectation of judgement was a shame - in my circle that wasn't a big number at all, and no one was judgemental about that stuff anyway, [who are these people who are still like that and young and not religious?] so being on '13' for as short a time as possible was simply superstition - but it was one of those funny little internal thoughts that one never expects to see in writing.
- 'Up the Mountain Coming Down Slowly'. Really should be bracketed with the dull stories about Americans on exotic holidays. But more interesting personally as it's about mountaineering & trekking, stuff that, if I were fit and well, I'd rather be doing in my spare time than sitting about on GR - albeit in less environmentally fucked ways than this expedition. I liked the mundane accounts of things one usually hears in a different style and with more drama in non-fiction, and attention to experiential details that those writers either ignore or are too seasoned to have to deal with in the first place.
- 'After I Was Thrown in the River and Before I Drowned'. Depressingly titled story, but actually rather exhilarating even where the circumstances don't ring true. Told from dog POV (Kafka inspiration?). Hint: the two events are years apart.
- I marked the only two things that made me laugh. They make me sound like a bit of a sicko, but anyway. She wanted to open umbrellas in the faces of cats, make them scurry and scream. Wot? And a little less bizarrely: The problem is that Fish has never had a fascination with people who try to kill themselves. Maybe if he took more of an interest in the concept, Adam wouldn't keep trying to prove how intriguing it is.
Elsewhere, it does one of two things that really annoy me in fiction just now. At least the collection doesn't contain any dreams or fortune telling scenes that come true. (Will someone PLEASE write more stories in which they don't.) But there are characters who say they know what will happen in a new friendship, e.g. I knew then that I would get her a job where I worked, that she and I would become closer, that I would know the things I want to know about her. I tend to know instantly if I like people IRL, so that basic feeling I've no problem with - but this stuff, no. And it's getting boring the frequency with which it appears in books. There are more interesting ways for writers to show their working if they want to do some meta reveal of their storyboard. Like 'Notes for a Story of a Man Who Will Not Die Alone' - cool plan structure, which half reminded me why I used to like Eggers. A mis-step though to make the man a retired ob-gyn (it's hard for a male one not to seem a little odd, and anyone who'd had much to do with healthcare would see dying as a messier and less predictable business than the character does). The plot was kind of charming along the lines of Dave Gorman / Danny Wallace projects, but I wondered if I would have noticed ten years ago how crashingly egotistical the character's idea was; now that realisation spoilt the potentially endearing nature of the piece. In both its good and bad points it seemed remarkably of its time.
I only read this because I'd started it in the past - and it's short. Not sure I'd recommend it for anyone other than Eggers completists.