In my early days of
book collecting, I avidly searched out authors whose books I admired. My goal was signed copies. I was not so careful in those days, because I
have a lot of inscribed copies that are book club editions, or sometimes many
editions removed from the first. I only
cared about the signature for my own personal collection – never about
collection values. Most authors gladly
signed my books, but sometimes I had to use some minor subterfuge to gain
access to those authors shy about meeting strangers. When I heard Anne Beattie had been asked to
speak at Rutgers University, I headed there with a few of her novels. I learned there would be no signing after the
lecture, but I told the guard I was a free-lance writer and reviewer, and
wanted to talk to her about an article I was writing. She agreed to see me, and she graciously
signed my copies and answered a few questions, which I dutifully wrote into my
notebook. All true, although the article
never found its way into print. When I
admire an author, I will go to many lengths to establish a connection – no
matter how brief. Now, Beattie has come out
with a collection of short stories, The
State We’re In. While I really love
her novels, I am thoroughly seduced by her short stories.
These 15 stories are
loosely connected. Most deal with teenagers
suffering under the onus of parents, who are all, to my mind, parents normally
concerned about the welfare of their offspring.
The peek into the mind of teenagers at the beginning and middle of their
rebellious years awakens memories of my teen years and reminds me of what my
students endure today.
One character who
appears in the first story, “What Magic Realism Would Be,” and in the seventh
story, “Endless Rain into a Paper Cup,” is Jocelyn. In “Magic Realism,” she agonizes over an
assignment in her English class, and in “Endless,” Uncle Raleigh, now worries
about her passing algebra. He encourages
her, because he knows she is smart.
Beattie writes, “‘Thanks for saying something nice to me.’ // ‘That’s
because I believe you deserve niceness, Jocelyn.’ […]
‘If you don’t mind, could you print [your essay] out, because I can’t
read that little screen, as you know.
And as I tell you every night.’ // She got up from his office chair, where
she’d been slumped, writing and picking at her pedicure. She turned on his printer. When it printed out, it was not quite two
pages. // ‘Yesterday’s was three pages,’ he said immediately. // ‘She’s tired
of reading long papers.’ Jocelyn lied to Raleigh and Bettina – certainly to
Bettina – and to her sort of best friend, who was lucky enough to be in
Australia this summer, even if it did have to be with her family and her
retarded – really, actually retarded – brother, the challenged Daniel Junior, who picked his nose right in front of
you” (3). No political correctness in
Jocelyn, and she certainly spares no one.
In “Endless,”
Jocelyn has a conversation with her English teacher. Beattie writes, “Ms. Nementhal held open the
side door. Jocelyn trotted ahead of her,
her ears a little zingy, for some reason.
Just listening to Ms. Nememthal had been exciting. She seemed to think she could do anything. If Jocelyn ever got into any college, it would
be a miracle. Her mother said that tutoring
for the SAT was too expensive, and she couldn’t disagree. All you could do was read stuff on the Internet
and get pointers from your friends, the most helpful so far being that the questions
were essentially simple, but they pointed you in a direction that made you question
your own perceptions, so you’d change things at the last second and answer wrong”
(76). English professors can be quite influential.
I found the occasional
use of second person a bit off putting, but I see that in my students’ essays, so
I guess that’s the way of the world. Anne
Beattie has been included in four O. Henry Award collections, in John Updike’s The Best Short Stories of the Century, and
in The Best American Short Stories of 2014. She has won numerous other awards. She currently teaches creative writing at the
University of Virginia. If Anne Beattie is
an unfamiliar name, The State We’re In
is a fine entre into the world of Anne Beattie. 5 stars
