From Nobel laureates to debut novelists, international translations to investigative journalism, each issue of Granta turns the attention of the world's best writers on to one aspect of the way we live now.
Sigrid Rausing is Editor and Publisher of Granta magazine and Publisher of Granta and Portobello Books. She is the author of History, Memory and Identity in Post-Soviet Estonia: The End of a Collective Farm and Everything is Wonderful, which has been translated into four different languages.
This was a particularly good issue, the theme being siblings. Although it's amazing how many of these pieces consider broken and dysfunctional families
Not a theme that I'm a massive fan of, but full of the excellent writing I've come to expect from Granta. Lots of shorter, memoir pieces this time - perhaps appropriate given the subject matter.
Highlights are: - Memories of a brother dying on life support, and breaking the news to your mother. - A walk around the block with a sister fighting cancer - Struggling to raise younger siblings with a mother unable to cope - Atmospheric fiction in The Durham's - Graphic story contrasting interactions between two siblings, and that between their mother and an aunt
The theme for this issue is brothers and sisters – sibling rivalry, emotional attachment, blood ties, family bonds. This is a rich vein to mine. What ties us so close to our siblings – would we mutually choose them as friends on a night out? Is it more than life experience forcing us to be together? Sigrid Rausing talks about “siblings survive by rejecting each other.”
The book starts strongly with John Niven’s O Brother – a memoir of his brother in hospital that feels heartbroken and painfully real. After the clumsy exchange with the doctor to see the scan John Niven moves into a story of a broken life. The pain of having little influence over how your sibling self destructs is deep.
The Durhams by Ben Pester starts off as a work rivallry on its own it could have been a plot, but then descends into weirdness once his work rival claims his sister is haunting him – the prose mushed up the plot.
Plastic Mothers by Lauren John Joseph is another moving memoir so resonant in many Northern towns as well as Liverpool. However, it descends into cliché with absent fathers but little about the reality that it takes two to make babies; the relationship problems are all put at the feet of men without men really figuring in the memoir.
Karolina Ramqvist’s memoir of her large family with offspring brought together from different parents is memorable only for its focus on the complexity but not in an intriguing way. An ambitious collection of stories and memoirs on sibling rivalry and love, however the intense dynamic is sometimes lost in the prose. It is topical at the time of reading this collection how Prince Harry’s Spare memoir has just been published disclosing that fierce rivalry and tension between brothers. Something that was missing in this collection.
Taiye Selasi tries to put you in the scenario of where two daughters are born within minutes of each other and the symbolic meaning of this - “one childhood containing two children.” The challenges of not being able not share, including friends, yet physically different. A philosophical rather than psychological discourse.
Jamal Mahjoub recalls his wayward little brother, that moral duty to keep in touch, however, emotionally painful and difficult: “ he accused me of trying to fulfil an obligation, and, of course he was right to an extent.” He brings out the ultimate question we don’t want to ask about siblings: “how can three souls, both to the same parents within such a narrow time frame, and brought up in identical surroundings, find themselves so alienated from another that they can no longer beat to see each other, rarely even communicate?”
Viktoria Lloyd Barlow presents the most vivid memoir from her upbringing with her own autism; One aspect of her autism is “an intense preoccupation with a singular topic is a common autistic preoccupation.” Survival tactics included to “creatively employ narrative as a tactic of evasion” in conversation. As well as there being six biological children there were foster children in and out of their home. “the practices of our home naturally resembled those found in an institutional setting.”
Das Thema Geschwister finde ich hochspannend, meiner Wahrnehmung nach wird es literarisch im Vergleich zu seiner Bedeutung nur wenig thematisiert. Umso mehr freute ich mich über eine Ausgabe Granta dazu – und sie hat meine Erwartungen erfüllt.
Am wenigsten interessiert mich allerdings die Perspektive der klassischen Psychoanalyse – mit der ich ohnehin ein Wissenschaftlichkeitsproblem habe, weil Psychoanalyse aus Thesen und Theorien besteht, die nicht falsifizierbar sind. Viel erhellender finde ich da Hazel Bruggers Bezeichnung von Geschwistern als “Übungsmenschen für echte Menschen”.
Auffallenderweise kommt die psychoanalytische Perspektive auch nur in einem der Texte vor: Der Lyriker Will Harris erzählt in “Speaking Brother”, dass er in einigen Gedichten einen Bruder erfunden hat, und denkt über den Grund nach. (Fragen jetzt schon Autoren “Was wollte der Autor damit sagen? – und das auch noch bei den eigenen Gedichten?!)
Doch die anderen Texte und Geschichten (fiction und non-fiction) erzählen zum Beispiel vom Tod eines Bruders (John Niven, “Brother”), von einer Teenager-Mutter, die sich ihren immer mehr Kindern gegenüber wie eine Schwester verhält (Lauren John Joseph, “Plastic Mothers”), von Kindheitserinnerungen an einen jüngeren Bruder (“Brother, to be your sister is to confront the possibility of having been other than I am.” Vanessa Onwuemezi, “Brother”), von Patchwork-Familien mit unentwirrbaren Geschwisterbeziehungen (Karolina Ramqviyst, Sasika Vogel – Übers., “Siblings”), vom engen Zusammen-Aufwachsen als Zwilling und Verlust jedes Kontakts zur Schwester als Erwachsene (Taiye Selasi, “Betwixt and betwin”), von der Kindheit als Autistin in einer Familie mit unzähligen und ständig wechselnden Pflegegeschwistern (Viktoria Lloyd-Barlow, “These stolen twins”), das Leben dreier Schwestern von den 1920ern bis in die Gegenwart (Sara Baume, “Ray & Her Sisters”). Ben Pester erfindet in seiner surrealen Geschichte “The Durhams” das Wort “Sibspace” für die Welt, die manche Geschwister als Kinder teilen.
This Granta is made up of pieces of a consistently high quality. My reviews of lit mags, including Granta, usually start by calling them “a mixed bag” or words to that effect, but this issue is pleasingly well written almost throughout.
For me it probably helps that there are only two poems, a form which I often have trouble getting to grips with. My favourite genre, however, is prose fiction, and there are only two fictional short stories in this issue, too. Most of the pieces are memoir.
They cover a wide range of sibling relationships, including an only child writing on his complex relationship with his desire for a brother. The notable omissions for me are any nonbinary or agender siblings, or the process of coming to terms with a sister transitioning to a brother or vice versa, though there’s a very good memoir piece in which one of the elements is a trans woman describing a childhood of being thought to be a boy.
A lot of the pieces inevitably concentrate on childhood, which is the period when we are constantly thrown together with our siblings. A variety of other ages are also represented, and other circumstances.
I don’t want to go through any individual pieces, because part of the joy of this collection is the surprise of finding the contents all these very different pieces and the very different brothers and sisters and relationships with them described. There were a couple of times when the writing disappointed me in specific, mostly small ways, but those were rare (hence 4 stars not 5). Overall this is an interesting topic very interestingly explored.
Most of these stories are the nostalgia for the loss. of the mutual understanding of sibspace
All are true stories mostly of reflection of childhood relationship with siblings except for the Durhams and Rain which are fiction. O brother, Rain, Ray's sisters, the Durhams and Plastic Parents are the best pieces.
The whole book is raw and gets to the unflinching core of sibling relationships which are a mix of Britain and Ireland today and memories of childhood in 70s and 80s The poetry and photo essays are good with the photos of South Wales a bit bleak though.
These Stolen Twins by Viktoria Lloyd- Barlow is the stunning highlight of this stellar collection of stories, essays, memoirs, poems and photography. Loss, connection, responsibility, devotion, competition, support. The back cover would say this issue is : “one of chaotic hierarchies, a zero-sum game of sibling competition alternating with tenderness…” That’s not quite it; not quite all of it. This issue speaks to so much more.
I liked the theme — it was something I hardly ever think about — but I didn’t like the writing. It was mostly memoirs and only two short stories. It took me months to finish this edition, and the only piece that really stood out was by Lauren Groff. Two pages of great writing. Other pieces I liked were by Jamal Mahjoub, Viktoria Lloyd-Barlow and Andrew Miller.
3.5 some really great stuff, some middling. o, brother had me sobbing in the library and i had to excuse myself. some of that really hit too close to home
Not my favorite issue, but there were definitely some standout pieces in the collection. I think that it comes down to most of the pieces seeming and sounding the same - an oversaturation of the sibling story and one that seemed to feel like they all shared threads that went through every piece that took away from the experience in giving each time on its on merit (and it is important to mention that I tried to read them one at a time over a couple weeks). Overall, I enjoyed the time I spent with it but I will unlikely open it again. I have a sibling... These work, they're true and beautiful portraits of the experience, but I am unsure if I cared after the first few pieces...
I wish this collection themed to siblings captured more of the balance of joy or celebration that can come from those familial relationships but the overwhelming tone (for me) was somber and quietly dramatic as if all memories of siblings were tinged with sadness. Perhaps that matches a winter season read, but I felt so plaintive and wishing for more after this one.