Fiction that straddles conventional boundaries is often very
interesting, but can also disappoint because it’s neither this nor that. When it succeeds we know that it stands on
its own two feet, but it’s also a little of this and a little of that and a bit
of the other. Francesa Marciano’s story collection
The Other Language does indeed straddle, but thankfully it does so gracefully
and rewards us with a satisfying and gracious reading
experience. We get to interact with a broad range of settings, characters, and
situations. We can sample, savor, and
move on. Each story seems that it could
be expanded into a full-length novel.
But that’s what a good short story feels like. It’s a self-contained and satisfying world
unto itself, and who can blame the reader for wanting more? That tapas plate was terrific. I wonder if they offer that as a main?

Outwardly very traditional. No meta-gimmicks here, no preoccupation with
self, no experimental structures, no characters in extremis. The language is
pleasing if not gorgeous. Just well-told stories that reveal insights into the
human condition of the ordinary individual and his cultural context. The small details are well chosen and telling,
even if the writing doesn’t push the boundaries into new territory. This is a bit old-fashioned, but that’s fine with
me.
And the exotic locales and diverse cultural viewpoints makes
the reader seem cosmopolitan, wise, a bit jaded. Been there, done that … even
though of course we haven’t. Not even
remotely. But we’ve been offered glimpses at people and places that do make us
more aware (especially of what we don’t know, even about our own small world), maybe even a little
smarter. Or so it seems. Well done.
No comments:
Post a Comment