A Few Goodies

The stories in the latest issue of Epoch challenged me to reflect on my relationship to others. I could see myself or people I know in many of the characters. The stories unfold with ease, with much attention to descriptive language employed. They offer conventional plot lines--there's angst over the death of a loved one, father/son conflict, generational rift, mental breakdown, marital friction, and teenage love. This journal will definitely appeal to writers who choose to highlight the dysfunctional quality of twenty-first century American living. A plus for all writers is that the material featured is varied--focusing on the domestic as well as international scene, coming-of -age issues as well as midlife challenges.

As for the poetry, it was largely referential. My knowledge of historical figures was tested. To my delight, I was forced to do outside research on two women in particular: Alice James and Georgia O'Keefe.

Of all the stories, two resonated the most for me: "The Inter-Continental" by Hasanthika Sirisena and "Memorial Day" by Lauren MacIntyre. What I found especially noteworthy here is the metamorphosis the two main characters undergo. These characters are memorable in the unpredictable approaches to the circumstances of their lives.

"The Inter-Continental" features a young and cynical narrator, Samantha, and her friend Malika. The girls, contemporary in their appearance and musical preferences, are offset at the beginning of the story by an older character, Malika's uncle, whom Samantha sums up to be "old, over fifty." At this admission of the uncle's age, I nodded and chuckled, remembering back to my late teen years when I thought anyone over the age of forty was passé, not to be trusted or valued. The dialogue at the story's start supports the notion that youth have no time for the reveries of older people.

Samantha ultimately proves she's a true rebel when she disdains the illegal activity of snorting cocaine her clique of friends draws Kishani into. Samantha opts to experience a natural "high": she climbs out the window of her hotel room and stands on the ledge, looking down on the city of Colombo. Reality intrudes when soldiers, having spotted her while doing their tour of duty, think she is an enemy of the government (Sri Lanka) taking pictures to be used against the republic. The emergence of the soldiers near the story's end gives the piece a hard edge. In the end, Samantha executes a final act of selflessness, rescuing her friend and revealing her to be less of a cynical teen and more of a thoughtful young woman, full of heart.

The story "Memorial Day" boasts a character who's as cynical as Samantha of "The Inter-Continental." Tom Jenks, however, is a middle-aged man who's recently lost his wife to cancer. Throughout the first half of the story, Jenks acts as though he's in a mental fog. He appears uncommitted to anyone or anything except for his dog, Starlah--his deceased wife's dog.

Initially, Jenks leads a passive life without his wife and finds himself relying on the kindness of his wife's friends--nurses by profession as his wife once was. Jenks categorizes these nurses as "Flurries" and seems unwilling to recognize them as individuals in their own right. When he does center his attention on one of them--Beth, he quickly dismisses her as not his "type," reasoning that she is "(Too made-up for his taste. And too high-strung.)."

We see later how Jenks is emotionally paralyzed. He lives through the memories of his wife, as if dwelling within a time warp. I could not help but sympathize with Jenks. I wondered if he would transcend his circumstances. The author reveals such intimate details of Jenks's life with his wife that reading this story felt largely voyeuristic. There seemed a doomed quality to Jenks's reveries, as though he were not only in reverie, but actually trapped by the past.

I found the stories "The Inter-Continental" and "Memorial Day" refreshing. Each story showcases deeply flawed characters who ultimately transform their lives by acting on behalf of others. These two stories reminded me how effortless it is to lose one's self in the grander pursuit of endeavoring for others.