The first short story collection with repeat characters I ever read was a momentous one – Sherwood Anderson’s Winesburg, Ohio. In my early 20’s, I was impressed with Anderson’s concept of “grotesques” to describe people leading lives of “quiet desperation” (Thoreau’s term), and how he used the autobiographical character George as a common link between many (though not all) stories. I distinctly remember, for instance, a woman embracing her pillow like a lover as she cried -- frustrated and trapped in small-town America. And how Hemingway and Gertrude Stein said Anderson was all that and where it's at. As it turns out, not top of the ladder, but a rung for others to climb.
Similarly, Filthy Animals is an Anderson-like short story collection that wants to be a novel. In this case, the common denominator character is Lionel, a young man late out of the facilities after trying to take his life. In the first story, “Potluck,” he will meet two other repeat characters, Charles and Sophie, who will reappear like the Big and Little Dippers in the night sky. The three or four stories they share form a spread-out core and, though I found their chemistry and conversations a bit trying and repetitive at times, the stories give the collection its ballast and heft.
For the most part, the stories are strong – some more than others. On the stronger side is “As Though That Were Love,” a piece about ex-lovers Hartjes and Simon that offers, in equally strong measures, psychological and physical tension. Reading it, you feel as though something’s at stake, as though something has to give (and, indeed, something does). I like that in a story.
Weaker was “Little Beast,” a story about a young woman watching a well-to-do couple's two children, one a rather passive boy and the other rather frightening girl. She’s the “beast” in question, and she gives her modern-day Mary Poppins more than a run for her money. At times, the story’s little kid exploits trend typical, though, and, in the end, the landing doesn’t quite stick so much as stop.
I wanted to say that Taylor is more of a conversational writer but, as I read on, I noticed some descriptive flairs, too. Just not as strong as all the talking. And yes, these characters – one-timers and repeaters alike – are very much preoccupied with talking and their sexual lives. For some readers that may be a warning. For others, an invitation. In any event, the sex is never gratuitous, but it is ever-present, even when it’s in the background like a Greek chorus in the shadows.
Overall, Taylor is the kind of young writer you might keep an eye on. In all honesty, I didn’t read his novel Real Life, which came out first to much acclaim. And while I may get to it, it'll be a break of some time before I do.
After I reread Winesburg, Ohio, maybe.
3.5/5