What do you think?
Rate this book
Farthest South & Other Stories
A baby is born with gills. Foxes raise and then lose a human child. A man, in the final throes of his deathbed fever-dream, experiences a cross-Antarctic voyage. The stories in Furthest South, the second story collection from renowned writer Ethan Rutherford, find characters in the most unexpectedly menacing of circumstances, in which their sanity, happiness, and safety are put to the test. Formally ambitious, with an eye toward the strange, with a inimitable style all Rutherford's own, each story is nonetheless firmly grounded by a deep, human the anxiety of family connection and humanity.
- GenresShort StoriesFiction
196 pages, Kindle Edition
Published April 21, 2021
17 people are currently reading
234 people want to read
About the author
Ethan Rutherford
7 books58 followersEthan Rutherford’s fiction has been published in Ploughshares, One Story, American Short Fiction, and The Best American Short Stories. He was a 2011 McKnight Artist Fellow and has taught creative writing at Macalester, the University of Minnesota, and at the Loft Literary Center. His first book, The Peripatetic Coffin and Other Stories, is a Barnes & Noble Discover Great New Writers selection for Summer 2013 and has been long-listed for the Frank O’Connor Award. He plays guitar for the band Pennyroyal. For more information, please visit: www.ethanrutherford.net
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews
April 5, 2021
I have such a fondness for surreal short fiction, stories on the edge of familiar and unsettling. If dreams are the product of the mind’s processing of events and emotions, dream-like fiction represents an ideal format for writers to pierce the veils of the human condition, the assumptions and ignorance of our everyday interactions that shroud from insight. In Rutherford’s new collection Farthest South, his stories provide a foundation for magical lyrical prose intermingling with a frugal simplicity. Like bedtime stories, his style cuts to the core of the mundane while still meandering into asides, conveying tantalizing flashes of the fantastic.
Rutherford frames the collection with two stories that integrate that concept of a child’s bedtime story into the plot itself, with the same characters. Both are outstanding stories that start and conclude Farthest South in a perfect way, introducing readers to Rutherford’s style and leaving them with uncertainties to ponder. In some respect, the stories feel more unsettling after their conclusion, as they stick with you.
“Ghost Story” (originally published in Tin House) begins things, where a father is asked by his son to tell a scary story before bed. Prior to this ghost story getting underway, the father and mother discuss normal marital concerns; the father considers the art of telling a story, how to strike the right balance between something being ‘scary’ for a child, but not over so, and how to still include a valuable lesson. Soon the story settles in with the father telling his story of the ‘Seal Woman’, a witch-like creature he encountered when younger while working one fishing season on his dad’s boat. “Ghost Story” is two stories in one, meta-fiction in a way; though I enjoyed all the parts (the relationship side between the parents, the father-son interaction, the Seal Woman tale) I still am not sure how they all fit together.
The final story in the collection, “The Diver” (originally published as “The Soul Collector” in Conjunctions) returns with the same story for another ocean-set tale featuring ‘Old Gr’mer’. Shorter than “Ghost Story”, “The Diver” doesn’t feature the mother-father interactions as much, and that tighter focus made it seem more cohesive in comparison.
These, and the other stories in Farthest South, are reminiscent of fairy tales in style, but with important functional distinctions. Most focus on adults, over children without guardians. And they aren’t written to convey a morale, so much as invite insights, subtly. The stories all revolve around family matters, the anxieties of people not acting just for themselves, but also for a unit, a pack. “Fable” takes this most literally in a story where a fox couple without any kits of their own adopt a human child. However, like in “Ghost Story”, this fable becomes nestled within a larger framework of friends coming together. One, a translator and storyteller, relates the fox fable to her friends.
The uncertainties and unease of families, of parenthood in particular, crop up again and again in Rutherford’s stories. “Family, Happiness” delves into that specific theme in a very short, but lush and emotive handful of pages. “The Baby” (originally published in Post Road) uses the same theme from an opposite, almost nightmarish, perspective. A couple bring their feverish child into the hospital emergency room:
“The weather outside is feral and snow-clotted. And when the doctor says hold the baby, they do.”
In probably my favorite story of the collection, Rutherford depicts the frightening unease of any patient putting their trust into a doctor, having no choice but to do what the doctor says, even amid doubts or evidence that the doctor can’t be expert in all. The story is the most absurd of the collection, with details that will ring familiar to anyone who has ever faced a medical bureaucracy that seems to prioritize everything but patient care and communication.
“Holiday”, approaches the parenthood theme from yet another angle, the haunting of possibilities and chance encounters. This eerie tale almost reads like a horror story, but never goes into full darkness.
A couple of stories do focus on the childhood perspective of the family relationship. In “Pools, I am a Hawk” a young girl goes with her mother to a fancy club where the woman’s more affluent friends have invited them as guests. There, the girl goes off on her own and encounters other children who think she’s a ghost of a dead classmate. In “Angus and Annabelle”, two siblings deal with the trauma of a lost mother. Amid a flutter of sparrows, Annabelle practices a skill that their mother had taught them, making stick-and-berry dolls that disquiet Angus (and perhaps the reader.)
The title story of the collection, “Farthest South” first published in BOMB can still be read there. It’s a fitting one to pick for the title of the entire book, as this story combines many of Rutherford’s elements into one tale. It’s surreal and has bits of comic absurdity, yet also is chillingly haunting. It also is a story nestled within another, though done far more quietly. It recounts the experiences of a man across the inhospitable terrains of Antarctica, a survivor among children and animals that inexplicably were among an expedition team. The survivors are plagued by the ghostly skulls of those from the team who died. But the man has a companion to help him in this ordeal: a talking Emperor Penguin named Franklin. Told from the perspective of a grandchild of this man, only a brief line(s) of the story suggest that what the tale in reality represents. While that detail may not be essential, it is a touch that lends added layers of appreciation to “Farthest South”.
Layers of appreciation is something that all of Farthest South offers readers. It’s imminently readable, neither dense nor pretentious. It capitalizes on key tricks of genre fiction to build something that’s certainly more in the literary camp – entertaining but giving things to intellectually unpack and ponder, even over multiple reads.
Rutherford frames the collection with two stories that integrate that concept of a child’s bedtime story into the plot itself, with the same characters. Both are outstanding stories that start and conclude Farthest South in a perfect way, introducing readers to Rutherford’s style and leaving them with uncertainties to ponder. In some respect, the stories feel more unsettling after their conclusion, as they stick with you.
“Ghost Story” (originally published in Tin House) begins things, where a father is asked by his son to tell a scary story before bed. Prior to this ghost story getting underway, the father and mother discuss normal marital concerns; the father considers the art of telling a story, how to strike the right balance between something being ‘scary’ for a child, but not over so, and how to still include a valuable lesson. Soon the story settles in with the father telling his story of the ‘Seal Woman’, a witch-like creature he encountered when younger while working one fishing season on his dad’s boat. “Ghost Story” is two stories in one, meta-fiction in a way; though I enjoyed all the parts (the relationship side between the parents, the father-son interaction, the Seal Woman tale) I still am not sure how they all fit together.
The final story in the collection, “The Diver” (originally published as “The Soul Collector” in Conjunctions) returns with the same story for another ocean-set tale featuring ‘Old Gr’mer’. Shorter than “Ghost Story”, “The Diver” doesn’t feature the mother-father interactions as much, and that tighter focus made it seem more cohesive in comparison.
These, and the other stories in Farthest South, are reminiscent of fairy tales in style, but with important functional distinctions. Most focus on adults, over children without guardians. And they aren’t written to convey a morale, so much as invite insights, subtly. The stories all revolve around family matters, the anxieties of people not acting just for themselves, but also for a unit, a pack. “Fable” takes this most literally in a story where a fox couple without any kits of their own adopt a human child. However, like in “Ghost Story”, this fable becomes nestled within a larger framework of friends coming together. One, a translator and storyteller, relates the fox fable to her friends.
The uncertainties and unease of families, of parenthood in particular, crop up again and again in Rutherford’s stories. “Family, Happiness” delves into that specific theme in a very short, but lush and emotive handful of pages. “The Baby” (originally published in Post Road) uses the same theme from an opposite, almost nightmarish, perspective. A couple bring their feverish child into the hospital emergency room:
“The weather outside is feral and snow-clotted. And when the doctor says hold the baby, they do.”
In probably my favorite story of the collection, Rutherford depicts the frightening unease of any patient putting their trust into a doctor, having no choice but to do what the doctor says, even amid doubts or evidence that the doctor can’t be expert in all. The story is the most absurd of the collection, with details that will ring familiar to anyone who has ever faced a medical bureaucracy that seems to prioritize everything but patient care and communication.
“Holiday”, approaches the parenthood theme from yet another angle, the haunting of possibilities and chance encounters. This eerie tale almost reads like a horror story, but never goes into full darkness.
A couple of stories do focus on the childhood perspective of the family relationship. In “Pools, I am a Hawk” a young girl goes with her mother to a fancy club where the woman’s more affluent friends have invited them as guests. There, the girl goes off on her own and encounters other children who think she’s a ghost of a dead classmate. In “Angus and Annabelle”, two siblings deal with the trauma of a lost mother. Amid a flutter of sparrows, Annabelle practices a skill that their mother had taught them, making stick-and-berry dolls that disquiet Angus (and perhaps the reader.)
The title story of the collection, “Farthest South” first published in BOMB can still be read there. It’s a fitting one to pick for the title of the entire book, as this story combines many of Rutherford’s elements into one tale. It’s surreal and has bits of comic absurdity, yet also is chillingly haunting. It also is a story nestled within another, though done far more quietly. It recounts the experiences of a man across the inhospitable terrains of Antarctica, a survivor among children and animals that inexplicably were among an expedition team. The survivors are plagued by the ghostly skulls of those from the team who died. But the man has a companion to help him in this ordeal: a talking Emperor Penguin named Franklin. Told from the perspective of a grandchild of this man, only a brief line(s) of the story suggest that what the tale in reality represents. While that detail may not be essential, it is a touch that lends added layers of appreciation to “Farthest South”.
Layers of appreciation is something that all of Farthest South offers readers. It’s imminently readable, neither dense nor pretentious. It capitalizes on key tricks of genre fiction to build something that’s certainly more in the literary camp – entertaining but giving things to intellectually unpack and ponder, even over multiple reads.
April 7, 2024
Competently written stories but I wanted more story! Too same-y with too many subtleties. 2.5/5
December 6, 2023
idk what mental illness is enjoying a book and then taking seven months to finish it 😝 a few stories in the latter half dragged (hence reading slump) but overall liked this collection, ghost story and holiday were my faves 👍🏾
Read
September 14, 2021DNF-ed at 30%. just wasnt able to connect with this one. might probably have to give it a reread one day.
December 23, 2022
Read the 1st story in this and it was pretty good. Eerie and fantastical. Gonna read more from this author soon.
July 8, 2024
Very good
May 31, 2021
Reasonably well-written, but this collection was a miss for me overall. There are a few structural echoes across each story (someone dreams something or someone tells a story that is occasionally interrupted) that led to a little aesthetic burnout for me personally. And the limnal dreamlike vibe that pervades the book unfortunately detracted for me more than it added (leading to a feeling that I frankly have when someone in real-life tells me one of their dreams, which is somewhere between "why are you sharing this?" and "wrap it up".) I will say the final two pieces (the book's namesake and "The Diver") end on a strong note. Relatively speaking, these two felt like they were, relatively speaking, more generously doling out some actual meaning. Maybe I should have read the whole thing when I was feeling a little smarter overall. :)
May 30, 2024
I enjoyed Rutherford's first book, The Peripatetic Coffin, but his follow-up is even better. These stories are incredibly good at drawing out a mood, one we've all had where you know something is wrong, but you can't put your finger on it. Several of them seem to be short stories because they end before they're done, but Rutherford's technique is to end before all the questions are answered, allowing the sense of unsettledness to be the last note at the story's end.
This collection is an excellent exemplar of contemporary fiction. If your brain has been turned to mush by popular novels where everything is nicely resolved at the end, this book won't click for you. That's a shame, because there is more originality in the 200ish pages of this book than in an entire shelf of mainstream novels.
This collection is an excellent exemplar of contemporary fiction. If your brain has been turned to mush by popular novels where everything is nicely resolved at the end, this book won't click for you. That's a shame, because there is more originality in the 200ish pages of this book than in an entire shelf of mainstream novels.
September 23, 2021
Like his first book of stories, Rutherford has produced another very strong collection. The stories I found most compelling -- "Ghost Story," "Holiday," "Fable" and "The Diver" -- integrate the process of storytelling within them, a story within a story, and more importantly, our need to tell stories, to find meaning in life. Stories like "The Baby" and "Farthest South" find Rutherford experimenting with more more surreal ideas, and for me these were less successful. And "Pools, I Am a Hawk" and "Angus and Annabel" have compelling moments in them, but ultimately felt rather diffuse. But all these stories are infused with deep tenderness.
January 13, 2024
I have some difficulty with short stories. Just as I become engaged with a character . . . it's over. (Can one's attention span be too long?) The author of this collection is a terrific writer, but not the best story-teller. Can't say the tales are uplifting or will stay with me. There is a memorable emperor penguin (Franklin). A valuable read for those exploring creative writing, as Rutherford practices the craft well.
May 21, 2023
Not really my thing…the stories all have a fairytale or fable-like quality, are intentionally spooky or mysterious, and appeal to the unknown or unexplained. One or two stories interested me, and there’s nothing wrong with the writing…it’s actually quite descriptive and effective in conveying a particular mood.
February 19, 2021
I was entranced by this fantastical story collection! Perfect read for a weekend, when it can sprawl and take over your imagination.
April 15, 2021
Odd little stories that don't end up getting in their own way or too self-conscious. Particular props for a cannily uncanny description of what 5 months of Minnesota winter does to a mf.
December 8, 2021
i loved these vibes, just some great vibes in here. eerie, something's off, more questions than answers. love it.
April 12, 2022
DNF at 22%. Never got into it.
October 28, 2023
Really solid set of stories. The writing is amazing, but the plots could have been roided up a bit. inject with some nail biting shit
October 29, 2025
The sublime outshine the inane.
Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews