It is very hard for me to critique one of the particular stories in this issue because for one thing, the timing is bad–just got one of my best stories ever rejected by Glimmertrain today; the story I’m commenting upon won the Open Fiction Award which means best over anything without restriction submitted to this contest at Glimmertrain; it’s offensive to many to criticize a story about people and their pets; and, I’m beginning to wonder if I’m just living in a different dimension than the rest of the world and thus have no handle on what’s okay and what’s great in the literary market at all.
The story is The Death of Animals and it’s by R. Clifton Spargo who (surprise, surprise) also won Glimmertrain’s Award for New Writers three years prior (to this issue – Fall, 2004). Again, I ask, what are the odds–out of thousands of stories, two by the same author? But also again, it’s probably just sour grapes from me today.
The story is of a young woman who is grieving over the death of her dog. The backstory is that the woman had been raped. The tie-in is that the dog was born shortly after (a week, I think) though she didn’t take it in as pet for a while later.
The good part of the story is the fresh approach: Third person pov and really, really, telling of the woman’s feelings for this animal. The good and bad: The third person narrator suddenly at the end of the story turns into first person, and we don’t know who it is or his/her relationship to the protagonist. More good and bad: The repetitive "my dog" stories are as annoying (for thirty pages) as any in-person pet lover’s would be and while that reiterates the desperation of the story, it also, as I said, is annoying. Slightly cliche: the transference of the trauma of the rape and distrust of people to the love for an animal. And this is made clear in case we didn’t see it ourselves by the revelation of this same theory voiced by other characters.
Another good and bad: The guilt she feels over the death of her pet and her questioning of herself in taking proper care of the animal is obviously metaphorically extended to her part in the rape–as victim is traditionally blamed by self or others.
I’m not sure if this is a good replay of a relevant part of human nature and the response to trauma, or if it is just an overblown version. On the one hand, it all just seems too obvious, and on the other, the layers are there. But all in all, I do think that the story could have been much, much shortened–despite the possibility that this very fact of its length may indeed reflect the natural reaction in grief and in healing.
Like I said: what do I know?
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology