A family is both delighted and troubled by the visitation of a peculiar insect. "Cricket" was published in Lauriat: A Filipino-Chinese Speculative Fiction Anthology.
Perfect and scary for this time due to the moral of the story, which is:
Violence is the answer for those unable to be self-aware. Once they use the violence to reach their goal they realize, vaguely, that while their goal was attained, it only made everything bad that they were dreading come to pass, rather than avoid it. They then shuffle onto the rest of their miserable life, not fully comprehending the violence they used is what brought about their downfall. Bitterness and self-pity dog them, and the live their life unable to take responsibility for their own actions and unable to study themself critically, unable to change for the better.
5, depressing and terrifying, stars.
Read by the ever amazing, Mr. LeVar Burton.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
On this episode, we’re gifted with “Cricket” by Kenneth Yu.
This one was so subtle, it almost could’ve slipped right past me. It’s just a story about a post-loss family going about their day, when a cricket busybodys its way into their personal narratives. It’s incredibly practical, no flashy aliens or lasers or jump scares.
But it did strike a nerve. I’m bipolar. When I’m having an episode, it’s nearly impossible to hold me accountable or tell me about myself.
It takes a practiced muscle in my brain, realizing that I am –in fact- having an episode, and letting the secondary, self-aware muscle pry the wheel out of my emotional hands. Only then, can I put the car in reverse. LeVar is right. It’s very fucking hard.
When I do manage to do it, and there are probably as many failures as there are successes, it looks a lot like “Wow, I’m realizing I’m actually feeling some type of way and I am apparently not in a healthy place to have this conversation with you because I’m way angrier than I’m supposed to be.” or “Um...I’m gonna stop myself. While I am sincerely frustrated, I am also prickly right now and I am gonna remove myself from this conversation for now, put a pin in it.”
'Prickly' is my word for overtly furious due to bipolar disorder. I'm one hateful little cactus. Do not hug.
When I fail, it sometimes looks like, “Hey, I realize I came down on you really hard for forgetting something that I could’ve just as easily forgotten. You've had a hard week and I never even asked how you were doing, I just expected you to be in a better position than me to deal with that workload. I was way out of line, and it’s not okay, and I just want to lift you up for trying your best, and apologize to you for spinning out over something that was small.”
These are usually conversations with my partner, who is my absolute best friend. He sees me on the days I refuse to give up the wheel, and doesn’t take that dumb bitch at face value, nor does he let her stomp all over him. He reminds me to reel it in, and really think about how I’m talking to him. He's not always successful, but he's got more points on the scoreboard than I do, by a long shot.
The tragedy isn’t Richard entirely. He’s one facet. The tragedy is in all the people he hurts, and the ultimate poison he laces into them. That is tragic. When I think of all the times I’ve hurt my husband or friends and family with spite and self-pity, it’s enough to make me hate myself. But, self-hate/self-pity doesn’t serve them, and it doesn’t serve me. It just kills the Cricket.
Self-awareness, accountability, and asking for help is coming back to life. It’s change. It breaks my heart to know how many people don’t believe that people can change. They can, and they do it all the time. They just have to want to. You can’t really inspire it, even if you love them and they love you. They have to get to that point, and decide not to kill the cricket. Not just because they love you, but because they believe there’s value in living and living right.
Kenneth Yu, I really appreciated this story. I saw myself in it, and it was a genuine reminder to choose humility. 🦗