Whispers of Grief and Independence: Nahar Trina on Toni Morrison, Flash Fiction, and Rooted Displacement

This is a Part 2 of my interview with Nahar Trina. 

On Toni Morrison's Sula
EN: You translated Toni Morrison’s novel Sula into Bengali. What drew you to this particular book, and what challenges did you face in carrying Morrison’s rich, poetic language, cultural nuances, and emotional depth from English into Bengali? How did the process of translating her work influence your own writing, especially in terms of voice, rhythm, or exploring themes like friendship, grief, and Black womanhood? 

Nahar Trina: Before translating Toni Morrison’s Sula, I was a devoted reader of her work, and I still am. By the time I began translating Sula , I had already published four translated books. Among them were two collections of children's stories featuring tales from home and abroad, and a translation of a short story collection for adults comprising works by some of the most celebrated authors in world literature. Another significant project was translating ‘Death to Life, Bangladesh’, a book by Jim McKinley based on the 1971 Liberation War of my motherland. The modest confidence I gained from translating these diverse books largely gave me the audacity to take on this particular novel by Toni Morrison.

 

Truth be told, I encountered obstacles at almost every turn while translating Sula. It is a reality that proficiency in the English language alone does not guarantee a successful literary translation. This is because language is intrinsically bound to culture. While it might be possible to break down linguistic barriers, scaling cultural walls often proves to be far more daunting. Added to this was Morrison's highly distinctive and peculiar prose style.

 

In any translation, I generally strive to prioritize the contextual essence first and then focus on the literal words. I strictly adhered to this approach for this novel as well. To readers of world literature, Toni Morrison is a deeply revered figure. She possesses a narrative style entirely her own—one that is simultaneously intricate and mesmerizing. The more adept a translator is at dissecting the spellbinding nature of Morrison's language, the more lucid the core narrative becomes in translation. Personally, I believe attempting to translate her work is an act of sheer audacity, as her writing demands immense effort. When dealing with such challenging texts, a piece of advice from Gabriel García Márquez serves as a brilliant strategy: he noted that the easiest way to truly understand a foreign book is to translate it. My desire to comprehend Morrison's writing on a deeper level, combined with my growing fascination with her work, encouraged me to display this audacity. Furthermore, I felt that introducing the readers of my native language to the creation of such a rare and monumental literary figure would be immensely enriching. This thought also fueled my courage to translate Sula.

 

Moreover, as a translator, I felt that Sula had the power to create a profound impact on Bengali readers in various ways. Although published around 1973, its appeal remains  timeless —especially for women in a society like ours, where women are still compelled to live within patriarchal structures. Here, a woman's personal freedom is often subjected to ridicule, and speaking of sexual autonomy is considered almost sacrilegious. Among the four central women in Sula, except for Nel Wright, the other three were remarkably advanced in terms of personal independence—especially Sula herself. The way Sula voiced her longing to live as an independent entity in such a hostile, prejudice-ridden era decades ago makes her journey even more deserving of recognition today. Through Sula, perhaps the seeds can be sown for readers to aspire to—not lawlessness—but a truthful, independent existence. This vision heavily influenced my decision to translate the book.

 

Another compelling reason was the novel's depiction of good versus evil. The tension between these two elements revolves around the core narrative. Yet, there is no overt attempt to explicitly label what is good or what is bad. None of the major characters bother to justify their actions or engage in rigorous self-defense. Their lives simply unfold like flowing water or the passage of time. Morrison leaves the judgment of good and evil, sin and virtue, entirely to the readers. Furthermore, it is impossible not to fall in love with the profound friendship between two individuals evolving from girlhood to womanhood that lies at the very heart of the book. The temptation to share my own profound admiration for this work with Bengali-speaking readers played a definitive role in translating Sula. Ultimately, as to how much her work has influenced me as an author, I believe that is for my readers to judge.

 

Your English-Language Debut

EN: Your recent English-language debut, Fleeting Impressions, is a collection of flash fiction exploring grief, belonging, and the quiet power of language. What inspired you to move into flash fiction for this book, and how does it connect to or differ from the stories in your Bengali collections like Studio Apartment (which won the Ekushey Book Fair award)?

 

Nahar Trina: The biggest inspiration behind writing the flash fiction pieces in Fleeting Impressions was the desire to capture the profound depth hidden within transient, momentary emotions. In this genre, the unwritten rule of “show, don't tell” deeply attracts me. This form allows the narrative of an entire lifetime to be distilled into just a few lines. A fleeting image, a sudden silence, or an unfinished sentence—each becomes as powerful as a full-length story. Due to displacement and geographical relocation, the fragmentation that seeps into life, the sudden stirrings of memory, or the soft shadows of grief—these emotions often materialize more vividly through brief, sharp, and silent prose rather than lengthy descriptions. Flash fiction has taught me to harness the power of that silence. This minimalist form has instilled a sense of discipline in me; here, the weight of every single word and the quietness of every pause matters. It feels like a distillation of emotions through language.

 

There is both a bridge and a distinction between this work and my Bengali stories. The stories in ‘Studio Apartment’, which was selected as the best short story collection in the Pencil Publications Talent Hunt Competition at the Ekushey Book Fair in 2020, are comparatively longer, character-driven, and allowed me the time to carefully craft the atmosphere. (On a side note regarding my other works, the children's story collection ‘Vindeshi Goppo’ (2023) was published after winning an award in the Ekushey Book Fair manuscript competition, and my first prose book, ‘GoddoCollage’ (2026), was published after being selected in a manuscript competition organized by Kitab-e Publications of West Bengal, India). In my Bengali books, I could seamlessly utilize the intimacy and comfort that our mother tongue naturally provides.

 

On the other hand, since English is an acquired language for me—a process that is still very much ongoing—writing in it requires a high degree of conscious effort and caution, which is never the case with Bengali. Spontaneity possesses a unique strength of its own, which is quite evident in my Bengali stories, and I am consistently striving to bring that same fluidity into my English writing. I hope readers will notice that very effort to find a rhythm within the English language in Fleeting Impressions.

Yet, a deep thread connects both books—they both attempt to explore the quiet, internal landscapes of human beings. Grief, loneliness, the tug-of-war of memories, and the experience of changing homes—all of these themes return in both languages, albeit in different forms. Alongside presenting narratives in elaborate detail, flash fiction has taught me that not all stories need to be spoken aloud; many stories can be whispered. And sometimes, it is within those whispers that the truest emotions are captured.

 

On Legacy, Bridges, and the Future

EN: Looking at your journey—from editing Golpopath to publishing in both Bengal and international platforms—what do you hope your body of work contributes to Bengali literature and to the broader South Asian diasporic conversation? What are you working on or dreaming about next?

 

Nahar Trina: My journey from editing to my own creative writing—has been a continuous process of learning and exploration. My involvement in the Bengali literary world is not just as an author; for a long time, I served as both an editor and a writer for three literary webzines: Porua, Shishukagoj, and Golpopath, (though the publications for Porua and Shishukagoj have now ceased). This experience taught me that editing is not merely about selecting texts or proofreading spellings; it is about carefully nurturing a writer's voice, clarifying their vision, and building a bridge of dialogue with the reader.

 

Conversely, my role in the English medium is different—there, I am primarily an author. When writing in English, I find that the language provides a certain necessary distance, opening up opportunities for analysis, structure, and connection with a global audience. Furthermore, working in English allows me to regularly learn from international editors. They evaluate a piece of writing based strictly on its literary merit rather than personal acquaintance, which I find immensely inspiring. When an article or story requires edits prior to publication, the warmth, sincerity, and professionalism they display not only help me grow but also leave me deeply impressed. The experience in the Bengali literary circle is often quite different, where a writer’s familiarity or personal network sometimes takes precedence over the actual quality of the text. This occasionally confronts me with ethical questions as a writer. Nevertheless, both contrasting environments have taught me invaluable lessons and have positively shaped my literary journey.

 

Flag of Bangladesh

When it comes to the broader discourse of Bengali literature and the South Asian diaspora, there are countless talented Bengali writers making significant contributions. I do not know how far my own voice will resonate in that grand space. However, as an author, my only desire is that whatever I write should serve as a harmonious bridge between these two worlds. I want the memories, the soil, the complex relationships, and the lived experiences of Bangladesh to reach global readers; at the same time, I wish for the isolation, the wordlessness, and the identity crises of diasporic life to be translated back to Bengali-speaking audiences. For me, the dialogue between these two realities is paramount.

 

Currently, I am working on a few short stories, translations, and long-form essays where the boundaries of language, memory, and identity blur into one another. My dream is to create a body of work in both Bengali and English that offers readers not just a narrative, but an immersive experience—where roots and displacement, home and exile, memory and the present moment coexist. Additionally, one of my primary goals next is to translate my debut Bengali novel, which is set against a historical backdrop, into English. There are still so many stories waiting to be penned; writing is an endless, continuous journey. My only wish is to remain on this path as long as it brings me joy.

EN: May it ever be so. Thank you, Nahar, for sharing your story.

 

Read Nahar Trina's A Shoreless Abyss.

A Review of Kulkuri (Vagabond) and Other Stories by Mark Munger

I lived in Puerto Rico back in 1978-79. During that time I did prison ministry once a week, which brought me into contact with a lot of people who had very interesting stories. Upon returning to the States, I pulled together a number of these into an outline for a novel. Writing fiction seemed like a good way to explore and reveal people's experiences that were very different from my own. 

I begin this review with that anecdote because I suspect that as a former trial attorney and district judge here in the Northland, author Mark Munger had intimate exposure to a hundred times as many lives and stories as I, many of them startling and unusual that would be had to imagine.

Kulkuri (Vagabond) and Other Short Stories, is Munger's second collection of short fiction. Published in 2020 by Cloquet River Press, I found his book at the Duluth Public Library on a shelf featuring local authors. It wasn't long before I drew two early conclusions. Mark Munger is a serious writer. He's also an impressive wordsmith. 

Though he has been primarily a novelist, he is likewise adept at short-form fiction. Someone once described the. novel as a short story in baggy clothes. I liked that. The best short stories are tight, compact and pack a punch. Munger has clearly honed his craft and has good instincts as regards pacing.

He is also not afraid to takes chances and try new things. There's no formula in his storycrafting. The singular thread in this stories is a sense of place, Northern Minnesota, with its geography, history and people.

As a writer I pay close attention to opening sentences, whether they be stories or novels. The first story here opens with "I stand thigh deep in the cold embrace of the Brule seeking forgiveness." Clearly something has happened. And you're invited in. It reveals a bit about the narrator as well, a fisherman.

Kulkuri (Vagabond), the title story and second in this collection, begins, "They call me Electric Jerry but my given name is Jorma." The manner in which Munger becomes his characters is striking and uncanny, especially in this story. 

Hemingway's Mistress, the third story, opens with "It started when I fell in love with his words." This story veers in a direction you don't expect, but how can it not? 

Though the stories are fiction, one wonders how many portions are secretly fragments of a self-portrait. This sentence here could summarize how I myself became determined to excel as a writer. 

The centerpiece is a novellas called The Angle. Again, the opening sentence does a masterful job of pulling you in while establishing a sense of place. "She lived in the Northwest Angle; that little protrusion of Minnesota shoving itself like a bully's thumb into Canada's eye." It's a tragic love story with some vivid, carefully crafted moments that one wants to revisit just to see how he pulled them off.

The latter batch of stories--seven in all--include two award winners, Isle Royale and Threshold. Some of the stories draw upon his Finnish American heritage. Other provide readers with a true sense of the challenges of our region and the people who inhabit it.

It's apparent from the quantity of books he's published that Mark Munger is both passionate about and dedicated to his craft. When not writing, Munger enjoys hunting, fishing, skiing, and contributing book reviews and interviews to his website, www.cloquetriverpress.com, and the Finnish American Reporter. 

This link to his Amazon authors page with give you a pretty good snapshot of his impressive output. If you prefer to buy local, Zenith Books in West Duluth will happily order books for you.

EdNote: Kulkuri mean Vagabond in Finnish.

Pocket's Selection of the 43 Most Iconic Short Stories in the English Language

A Writer's Life

You've probably noticed that people love making lists. Top ten drummers of all time. Top 100 novels of the 20th century. The fifty most influential books of all time. The seventeen most important inventions of history.

The other day I saw a web page announcing, in their opinion, the 43 Most Iconic Short Stories in the English Language. The title caught my eye and, despite the fact that 43 is such an arbitrary number that I can't take it seriously, I had to see what they listed. I followed the link. As it turns out, out of the first dozen I'd read nearly all of them, and overall it really is an impressive list. I decided to share the first dozen or so here.

Disclaimer: I am a big fan of well-crafted short fiction. I used to acquire short story anthologies and collections like The Best Stories of 1981 or 1985 or whatever year I came across. Norton Anthologies helped guide me to new writers as well. 

The "43" list starts with 2 stories by Washington Irving: "Rip Van Winkle" and "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow." Irving knew how to tell a story and both of these are deservedly classics. (I will call this "One.")

Next we find Edgar Allen Poe's "The Tell-Tale Heart." Poe crafted so many engaging stories, I suspect that these selectors no doubt had a hard time selecting just one.

When I was in junior high I acquired an anthology of Edgar Allen Poe's works, both stories and poetry. "The Tell-Tale Heart" definitely made an impression on me. So many others did as well, including "The Mask of the Red Death," "The Murders in the Rue Morgue," and "The Gold-Bug."

Four: "Bartelby, the Scrivener" by Herman Melville. I read it as I went through my brief Melville phase. His epic novel Moby Dick is deservedly a classic. So I selected a couple follow-ups, including Billy Budd and this one. I read it but remember nothing, so evidently it didn't make the same impression.

Five: "An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge" by Ambrose Bierce. First reading was in junior high. When I read it decades later, I tried to imagine writing this myself. It's an impressive and engaging story about a condemned Confederate soldier during the Civil War. Perfect pacing throughout, Bierce's story is a masterful work.

Six: "The Yellow Wallpaper" by Charlotte Gilman. I've never read this one, so no comment, but as time permits I will seek it out.

Seven: "The Turn of the Screw" by Henry James. Not sure why I didn't get into Henry James even though I know he is an important writer.

Eight: "The Lady with the Dog" is probably one of Chekhov's most well-known stories, but anyone who stops with this one will be missing a treasure trove of fine stories, some quite serious and others hilarious. One of my favorite all-time stories is "The Bet." A must read. My first Chekhov story was actually a one-act play titled, "On the Harmful Effects of Tobacco." It's hilarious.

Nine: "The Monkey's Paw" by W.W. Jacobs. Exemplifies the adage, "Be careful what you wish for." A powerful and chilling story.

Ten: O. Henry's "The Gift of the Magi." This is another that we were introduced to through public school. To learn more about this prolific short story writer who was master of the twist ending, see A Brief Glance at the Life of William Sydney Porter, a.k.a. O Henry.

If you like short stories...

Eleven: "The Dead" by James Joyce. Read it. Didn't get into Joyce when I was reading his books in college. Was I too young to appreciate what they had to offer.

Twelve: "The Metamorphosis" by Franz Kafka is classic. I first read it in a small volume called Continental Short Stories. One morning Gregor Samsa wakes up to find that he has become a cockroach (or something similar.) The absurd premise is carried out to the full measure. If interested, Haruki Murakami is written a sequel to this very strange tale that you might find interesting.

To find Thirteen through Forty-Three: You'll have to follow this link. I think it somewhat ironic that the title of this list says "in the English language." Chekhov and Kafka no doubt wrote in their native tongues, but since they have been translated I will over look that.

* * *

When I was young, Hemingway's In Our Time inspired in me a desire to be a writer. The power of Heingway's prose prodded me to work hard at it. I was especially attracted to writing short fiction. My first short story collection is titled Unremembered Histories. If you have read it please leave a review at Amazon. If not, read the existing reviews and add it to your cart. 

Imaginary Interviews: A Visit with Jorge Luis Borges, the Master of Magical Realism

Jorge Luis Borges was an Argentine short-story writer, essayist, poet and translator. He is regarded as one of the most important figures in Spanish-language literature. I first encountered his work in an old issue of The Antioch Review. And I was blown away.

The influential Argentine writer was born with congenital glaucoma, which left him nearly blind in his right eye and severely impaired his vision in his left eye. This condition would have a profound impact on his life and work.

Borges began writing at a young age and published his first book of poems in 1923. He went on to write dozens of short stories, essays, and poems. He was also a translator who translated works from English, French, German, and other languages into Spanish. Being a scholar of literature and philosophy, his work is often influenced by these fields.

He famously excelled in a form of storytelling called Magical Realism. In this imaginary interview I hope to introduce more readers to one of my favorite writers and primary influences.

EN: Magical realism is a defining feature of your works, blending fantastical elements with reality. How did you come to embrace this literary style, and what do you believe it adds to your stories?

Jorge Luis Borges: I appreciate the question. Magical realism, for me, was a natural way to explore the blurred boundaries between reality and imagination. Growing up in a multicultural environment and being exposed to various myths, legends, and philosophies, I realized that the extraordinary can exist within the ordinary. This realization led me to embrace magical realism as a means of capturing the inexplicable beauty and complexity of existence.

Magical realism allows me to express the ineffable aspects of human experience that often elude rational explanation. By seamlessly integrating magical elements into everyday settings, I aim to create a sense of wonder and provoke contemplation. This style enables me to explore philosophical questions, challenge preconceived notions, and reflect on the mysteries of existence in a way that straightforward realism might not allow.

In my view, magical realism enriches my stories by infusing them with a sense of enchantment and inviting readers to question reality's limitations. It encourages us to perceive the world from different angles, to question the boundaries between what we consider real and what we deem fantastical. This fusion of the ordinary and the extraordinary underscores the idea that life itself is a tapestry of paradoxes and that reality can be much more than meets the eye. Through magical realism, I strive to celebrate the complexity of human experience and offer readers a lens through which they can appreciate the enigmatic beauty of the world.

EN: Many of your works draw from diverse cultures and traditions. How do you approach incorporating these elements into your stories, and what role do they play in creating a global literary tapestry?

JLB: Incorporating diverse cultures and traditions into my stories has always been a deliberate and enriching process. I believe that literature has the power to transcend borders and connect people by highlighting our shared human experiences and the multiplicity of perspectives that exist around the world.

When I explore different cultures and traditions, my approach is one of respect and curiosity. I approach these elements not as mere ornaments, but as windows into the profound variations of human thought, belief, and expression. I delve into myths, folklore, and histories to uncover universal themes that resonate across cultures, such as love, loss, identity, and the pursuit of meaning.

By incorporating these diverse elements, I aim to weave a global literary tapestry that reflects the richness and complexity of human existence. This tapestry serves to challenge narrow perspectives and promote understanding among people from different backgrounds. In doing so, I hope to remind readers that, despite our apparent differences, there are underlying threads that connect us all.

Ultimately, the incorporation of diverse cultures and traditions adds depth and universality to my stories. It offers readers the opportunity to explore the world through different lenses, fostering empathy and expanding their horizons. It is my hope that my work contributes to a broader understanding of the human experience, transcending cultural boundaries and fostering a sense of unity amidst our diverse tapestry of life.

EN: Your writing often explores the labyrinthine nature of human existence. Could you share how this theme reflects your personal philosophy and why it resonates so deeply with your readers?

JLB: The exploration of the labyrinthine nature of human existence has been a central theme in my writing, reflecting both my personal philosophy and my fascination with the intricate layers of reality. To me, life itself often feels like a labyrinth, a complex network of paths that lead to unexpected revelations, dead ends, and profound insights.

Our understanding of reality is often limited by our perspectives and perceptions. We navigate the labyrinth of existence, seeking knowledge, meaning, and connection, yet often finding ourselves confronted with mysteries and paradoxes that challenge our comprehension. Through my stories, I seek to capture the essence of this journey, the perpetual search for understanding in a world that seems both ordered and chaotic.

Using the labyrinth as a metaphor for the enigma of existence, I hope to provoke introspection and contemplation in my readers, inviting them to ponder the myriad paths we traverse in our quest for knowledge and meaning.

This theme resonates with readers because of its universal relevance. The labyrinth is not confined to any one culture, era, or belief system—it's a concept that transcends boundaries and speaks to our shared experiences as humans.

EN: Do you see the mind itself as a labyrinth?

Photo by Maksym Kaharlytskyi on Unsplash

JLB: Indeed, the mind is a labyrinth, a vast and intricate terrain that holds within it the echoes of countless thoughts, memories, and perceptions. Just as the physical world is filled with paths, twists, and turns, so too is the landscape of our consciousness. The mind is a realm of discovery and contemplation, a place where ideas intersect and diverge, forming intricate patterns of thought.

Like the labyrinth of existence that I often explore in my writing, the mind presents us with challenges and mysteries. It invites us to navigate the corridors of memory, to seek understanding in the maze of our emotions, and to venture into the depths of our imagination. Just as the traveler within a labyrinth confronts uncertainty and the unknown, so too does the thinker grapple with the complexities of their own mental landscape.

Yet, within the labyrinth of the mind, there is also the potential for revelation and insight. Just as explorers of physical labyrinths may discover hidden truths, those who journey through the labyrinth of their thoughts can unearth profound understandings of themselves and the world around them. The mind's labyrinth is a place of creativity, where the paths we tread can lead to new ideas, connections, and revelations.

The idea of the mind as a labyrinth resonates deeply with me because it mirrors the themes I've explored in my writing—our quest for knowledge, the tension between order and chaos, and the simultaneous beauty and complexity of existence. By recognizing the mind as a labyrinth, we embrace the endless potential for exploration and discovery within ourselves. This concept continues to inspire and influence my work, as I strive to capture the essence of both the inner and outer labyrinths that shape our understanding of reality.

EN: Your influence on literature extends far beyond your native Argentina. In fact, I consider a number of my own stories to be inspired by your work, especially those in my book Unremembered Histories. How does it feel to have your ideas and techniques shape the work of writers from various cultures?

JLB: To witness my ideas and techniques resonating with writers from diverse cultures is a profound and humbling experience. Literature, as an art form, transcends borders and languages, uniting minds through the exploration of universal themes and human experiences. Knowing that my work has contributed to this global dialogue is a testament to the power of storytelling and the interconnectedness of human thought.

EN: One last question. As a writer who's navigated blindness, how has this condition influenced your creative process and your perception of imagination and reality?

JLB: Navigating blindness has been a profound and transformative aspect of my creative journey. While it initially presented challenges, it ultimately reshaped my perceptions in ways I could never have anticipated.

Blindness, in a sense, became a metaphorical labyrinth within which I had to navigate. As my visual world diminished, my reliance on imagination and memory grew stronger. The boundaries between the external and internal worlds began to blur, and I realized that perception is not confined to the physical senses alone. This realization profoundly impacted my writing, as I sought to convey the intricate interplay between what is seen and what is imagined.

In this new realm of limited sight, I discovered a heightened awareness of language itself. Words became my palette, allowing me to paint vibrant landscapes of thought and emotion. Imagination became my guide, enabling me to explore realms beyond the confines of the visible world. The act of storytelling became a way to bridge the gap between the tangible and the intangible, between the known and the unknowable.

Blindness compelled me to reexamine the nature of reality. I came to understand that reality is a subjective construct, shaped by individual perceptions and interpretations. This insight allowed me to embrace the idea that reality is malleable, that it can be reshaped and reimagined through the creative act. I found that the limitations of sight were not limitations of vision—they were invitations to delve deeper into the recesses of the mind.

Blindness, paradoxically, illuminated the vastness of the inner world, inspiring me to navigate the labyrinth of imagination with renewed vigor and a profound sense of wonder.

Related Links

The concept for this interview was first explored in my imaginary interview with John S. Hall, the Blind Poet of Ritchie County.

Here are some other Borges links.

Jorge Luis Borges: An Introduction

Tribute to Borges' Garden of Forking Paths

The Mind of Borges 

A Yellow Rose

A Nice Review of My eBook Newmanesque

At one time I wanted to make a living as a short story writer and novelist. Unfortunately, I also had to put bread on the table for my family and there was no assurance of success in that compartment of my life. 

I do feel a measure of pride for many of the stories I've created, though I also have a few regrets, primarily two. First, that I didn't try harder to get my work published in journals. Second, that when I finally decided to publish my stories in a set of three eBooks, I rushed it and failed to take my time in the proofing. 

The feedback on my stories has made me feel they deserve a wider audience. Hence, I'm thinking of assembling an anthology along with a few new stories I've written since publishing these in 2011. 

I suppose there's a third regret gnawing at me on this particular title. I called it Newmanesque because someone said my stories seemed Kafkaesque. 

If interested you can find it here on Amazon. 

THE REVIEW

If “The true work of art is but a shadow of the divine perfection,” as Michelangelo said, then it seems writers and artists must constantly strive toward perfection to engage in “true” art. It’s a never-ending struggle, and a struggle captured in Newman’s stories, particularly “The Unfinished Stories of Richard Allen Garston.” The protagonist, John Urban, struggles to regain his voice as a writer. In an effort to recapture his muse, he stumbles upon the almost mythical Richard Allen Garston and his collection of unfinished work. The story’s excellent pacing and poignancy evoke The Dialogues of Plato or the Book of Job. Our lives are like stories, Newman seems to be saying, and in the end, one character strikes out to finish his while the other doesn’t. What will we do?

“A Poem About Truth,” a shorty, punchy story, shows us the process of creating art, in this case a poem written by a French chef, can elicit derision and scorn from the world. Those who don’t understand the truth mock the chef’s work and relegate him to history’s shadows. Art (truth), however, outlasts its pallbearers and lives on. It offers a nice balance placed between two longer stories in the book.

"Terrorists Preying" may be the crown jewel of the book. Its bleakness and modernity seem to fit an age such as ours. The story seems to be attempting to answer the age-old question, What is Art? Les Garnet provides an answer many won’t like. Yet, can an age that rejects moral truths really condemn Garnet? Who are we to define what he’s doing as anything less than art? The story shows, intentionally or not, that we may not be able to begin to answer the question without appealing to fundamental moral principles many of us are loathe to entertain. The story ends as Mike, Les Garnet’s old acquaintance, prepares to paint his masterpiece, as it were. Do we cheer him? Deride him? Read for yourself and see.

This is a nice collection of thought-provoking stories worthy of appearance in any literary journal. My only criticism is that Newman should include more stories in the book. I highly recommend the book.

Dear Reviewer:
You are correct. There should have been more stories. Thanks for the kind words.

Related Link
Eight Books by Ed Newman

In Times Like These We Need Art's Place by Michael Fedo -- It Will Make You Smile

When I first began my pursuit of a writing career, I had no idea where it would take me. My inspiration to write initially came from Hemingway's short stories, so I immersed myself in the reading of short fiction by other masters while simultaneously learning the ropes about writing articles for publication. But I've never ceased to be a fan of the short story form, and still make time to spin a few yarns when the muse whispers an idea into my ear.

I first met Michael Fedo at a book signing at Barnes & Noble here in Duluth. I don't recall the book he was promoting, but I do recall the book I purchased: The Lynchings in Duluth. This incident left a powerful stain on Duluth's history (the lynching, not my purchase of his book) and I suspect most people knew little about it because so little had been written about it. I don't even recall hearing it discussed before the Clayton, Jackson, McGhie Memorial was erected in 2003.

I find it interesting how some writers establish a reputation as a certain kind of author that fits into some neat category, and others explore all the various facets of their personalities and interests. Agatha Christie wrote mysteries and Hemingway wrote "serious" fiction (generally) but a good portion of Graham Greene's catalog was a mix. His serious novels brought him international acclaim. Yet, he also wrote a fair number of books that he called "Entertainments." 

All that is a roundabout way of saying that Art's Place is an "entertainment." And indeed, these stories are entertaining. Suitable adjectives for these tales might include words like witty, hilarious, quirky (borrowed from the cover), over-the-top, off-the-wall, out-of-the-ballpark and wacky. Well, maybe wacky is too weird. Bottom line is that the stores are fun.

A quick scan of the titles will give you a feel for what's in store. Here's a sampling.
Quilters Sew Up Olympic Berth: Whistlers Blow It
Gunnar Sundstrom's Sushi Bar
I'm Dead, Now What?
The Ladies of West Rarington Falls Get Down
Mozart in the Mosh Pit

OK, you get the picture. The names are fun, the scenarios hilarious. In his story Poet Relinquishes Language we read about a bard who wishes to create poems that don't require words. In The Musicians' Corner in Purgatory, we find musicians who like to sit around and talk shop. The musicians include Mozart and Beethoven, Elvis and Virgil in a meandering stream that crosses the ages. Then there's Finito, Inc. about the woman who discovered she could not only make a living, but build a business around the theme, "It ain't over till the fat lady sings."

I asked Mr. Fedo to share which stories were his faves, and talk a little how he goes about writing humorous fiction.

Michael Fedo at Op-Ed Workshop

Good morning, Ed. I suppose my three favorites here are, in no particular ranking: Art's Place, The James Boys, and The Wedding Reviewer.  Each amuse me because of their improbability.  They all stemmed from the question, "What if . . . .?"  What if patrons of a blue-collar bar discussed art and literature with the same passion and patois used when talking about sports, or what if the James boys happened to meet, how would that encounter ensue, and what if weddings were reviewed along with films, theater, art, music, etc.  How would these notions evolve?  

When I'm writing humorous/satirical fiction, I look for dialectics--sort of putting opposites together to see what happens.  Writing these stores was great fun for me, and during the decade I was creating them, they came together rather easily, after I involved myself with the What If question.  Of course, there were false starts, and pieces that didn't work also, but most of my efforts were completed and published, and important too--paid for.  

Of the three, I think The James Boys (which received a huge batch of rejections) wasn't snapped up because, while everybody knows about the gangster James brothers, almost no one under 60 knows about William and Henry, and thus would miss all the clues pointing to Frank and Jesse suggesting titles and topics that the erudite brothers would incorporate into their writings.  The piece requires a foreknowledge in order to be appreciated. 

Writing humor is not as easy as you might expect. It is quite rewarding, however, when it works. Getting paid for what you produce is likewise rewarding.

One of the reviewers of this book on Amazon.com had this to say about Art's Place:

It feels like I was the target audience for a lot of these short stories. Page-long riffs on literature, history, and wry "what-if" scenarios are the sorts of things constantly running through my mind, and it was a joy to read.

I concur. 

The book opens with Art's Place, which immediately sets the stage. The James Boys: Summer, 1881 follows. Absurd? Well, if you know Jesse and Frank James, and you're familiar with Henry and William James... put 'em together and what have you got? A good yarn.

Maybe there should be a sequel in which Jesse and Frank go East to get a higher education. Henry and William manage to get them scholarships to an Ivy League school and... well, we can only imagine.

Related Links

Notes from an Op-Ed Writing Workshop

Michael Fedo Talks About Writing and His Book The Lynchings in Duluth

The Lynchings in Duluth (A Review)

Michael Fedo books on Amazon