Ever since I been listening to the New Yorker short fiction podcasts I've been meaning to buy some of the authors I had never heard of before. Started with The Point, the tile story of which is read here: The Point. I'm already having a break from the Dostoevsky, but yesterday was a busy day, and the second story in this collection was the one I read: "Her Real Name". Just like when I listened to the podcast of "The Point" I was a little uncertain about the voice, but then got swept into this hot, dusty elegy, with its contrasting ending out on the water, black and cool at night.
It felt quite long, maybe because I wanted to finish it before I went to sleep, but I didn't want to rush the reading. It's about 40 pages long, so say 12,000 words - a substantial length for a short story, there's plenty you can pack in. And there you are, another strange story absorbed, another set of images, quite strong at the moment, but how long will they last? The Point itself is fairly unforgettable - I think I may have listened to it twice (or else it made such an impression on me that I just think I've listened to it twice). When I first listened I had to break off h ten or fifteen minutes in and I wasn't that happy with the story, wasn't sure if I would go back to it. But I did - I started again, and got involved in that narrator's voice - a thirteen year old boy, somewhat unbelievable, but somehow believable.
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