Profile-pic_small
Reputation: 105
Moderator

When does a collection of short stories become a novel? Does it matter?

There is a lot to love about this book. A lot! But I’m having a hard time seeing it as a novel. It strikes me instead as a series of short stories in which the main characters in one story are supporting characters in the next, and even people who appear as the main character in multiple stories (Bennie and Sasha, for example) seem different enough from story to story that it was difficult for me to see them as the same characters. Sasha in Naples, stealing her uncle’s wallet, felt much sharper and more cynical than Sasha in New York stealing the stranger’s wallet, and both of them seemed a different person entirely than the mother of the girl who makes slides. And I know, the passage of time and all that–I get it conceptually, but I guess what I’m saying is I didn’t feel it.

As I was thinking about it I checked the cover of the book. Did it ever even claim to be a novel? Nowhere on the hardback book, inside or out, does it claim to be a novel. My fault, did I make a bad assumption? But no, there it is, on the paperback cover: A novel.

I’ve noticed it more lately (in the past decade) than I did in the olden days (the decade before that). Two other examples that spring to mind are Olive Kitteridge and the Wind Up Bird Chronicle, both of which surprised me with the same vibe, which is to say that at some point while reading each of them I said, hey! This isn’t a novel!

Does it matter? Maybe not. The thing about short stories is that they’re more precise, and you get to revel in the details; I really don’t mean to knock them. It’s just that reading a short story collection is a different experience than reading a novel, and it’s always a bit jarring to realize the taste in your mouth is an olive and not the malted milk ball you thought it was.

All of which is to say: if it doesn’t matter, then why use the word “novel” on the cover? And if it does matter, what’s the difference between a collection of short stories that’s a collection of short stories, and a collection of short stories that’s a novel? Or maybe my entire take is wrong, and Goon Squad is actually an exceptionally novelly novel? Is my craving for arc only the sign of an immature palate?

5 Answers

  • Jacket_small

    I thought that this book worked, for sure. But I know what you mean about arc. Because we all read for different things, or, as Nancy Pearl would say, want to walk through different Doorways (which she describes as the Doorways of Story, Character, Setting, and Language), we expect or ask different things of the books we read.

    Me, I read, primarily (but who wants to totally pin themselves down!) for character and language. So, I found Egan's book a little disappointing in that I wanted more, in some cases, of some of the characters. I usually like to follow a character over a period of time or period of growth. I finished the book wanting a bit more of Sasha. Although I have to say that seeing Sasha from her daughter's eyes via Powerpoint was a stroke of genius.

    Share this answer with a friend:
  • Messy_hair_small
    Reputation: 695

    I think she's playing with the way the tentative connections between the characters can form a whole. It's similar to how she plays with story and narrative in the slides chapter- the story is definitely furthered there, we learn more about the characters etc. even though it isn't prose.

    When I first started reading it, I felt the same way. A few of the stories were published in the New Yorker ahead of time. I vaguely remembered them, and it confused me- I thought "well these are just short stories, right?"

    But then as I kept reading I let the style wash over me, and now I think it works really well. She's messing with form in a way that makes the structure itself poetic.

    Did I just say that?

    Share this answer with a friend:
  • Avatar_default
    Reputation: 3

    The Imperfectionsts by Tom Rachman has a structure that is also akin to a series of short stories, but Rachman has each story with a single main character who interacts with others who have their own chapter. Similarly, Prague by Arthur Phillips fits in the same mold. There's a fine line between linked short stories and a novel. It's so fine it may not exist.

    Share this answer with a friend:
  • Paul_c_small

    A lot of novels-in-stories are just short story collections that an agent insisted the author turn into a linked collection because novels sell way better than short story collections.

    I don't think that's the case here; I think Egan has enough clout that if she wanted to publish a short story collection, publishers would happily buy that collection as is. I think she might be trying to tell the story of a very specific social group, from when people first met to the point where the group fades from the memory of the next generation. It's kind of a vague concept, but it's an interesting one.

    Do you know what kind of life your grandparents had when they were kids? I mean, you probably know some dry biographical details, but you don't know the people they hung around with, their friends. That's a huge part of a person, that kind of context is essential to knowing what a person is like. And it evaporates so easily.

    So if that's what Egan was trying to do—and I'm aware that I'm kind of stretching here—it's super-ambitious and she was fairly successful, too.

    Share this answer with a friend:
  • David_library_small

    I agree with Paul: I actually felt the whole thing hung together in a very 'novelly' way. I may not have felt that way during the process of reading so much, but then looking back across it all from hindsight, it resolved in a way to something with the same (deceptive?) coherence as life.

    There's this great quote from Doris Lessing's autobiography: "Every novel is a story, but a life isn't one, more of a sprawl of incidents." I feel like Egan tells her story in a way that is cognizant of that: that narrative is a construction and stories aren't really what we live. She doesn't do that in an ostentatious or self-consciously postmodern way (like some other authors I could name), but I think the sprawl of incidents in this book helps her say something about life, and how it works and doesn't work, and to do so in a way that was pretty consistently interesting/diverting.

    Share this answer with a friend: