The Stinging Fly: Sweet Pea

Published in Dublin, Ireland three times a year, The Stinging Fly showcases the work of emerging writers, and features new Irish and international literary short fiction and poetry.  I won the spring 2012  edition of this literary magazine, edited by Declan Meade, on Mel's blog, The Reading Life, compliments of writer Ethel Rohan. Yesterday I received my copy in the mail, and last night I had a lovely time reading it in bed (with my ginger-hued Persian cat nestled at my side--sublime).  In this cozy manner, I read a good portion of the short stories in this publication, but have not read much of the poetry yet.



One of the stories I read was Sweet Pea, written by Ethel Rohan, who was born and raised in Dublin, but now resides in San Francisco.  In this story, which is set in Ireland, the main (unnamed) character, a married woman raising a family, has an odd bit of anatomy, a white wing in place of her right shoulder blade.  It's a very unusual and fascinating story, written in the first person, about this woman and her best friend, Betty, whose face glistens when she talks about her Sweet Pea plants, and who's building a dollhouse for her daughter, Melba.  Like many close friends, the women have zany little adventures together, and take a trip at the suggestion of their husbands, to an IRA training camp in the forest, where they feel free enough to do handstands. 

I was touched by this short story, which is about friendship, the passing of time, and loss. Since the author and I had been emailing back and forth, I asked her to tell me how she came up with the idea of the character's chicken-like wing.  Ethel took my query a step further, and graciously elaborated on the inspiration behind Sweet Pea.

ER: The story was triggered by something my dad told me while I was in Ireland last summer. He's an avid gardener and has the most amazing Sweet Pea plant in the back garden. The bright green and baby pink Sweet Pea climbs right up the back wall of his house. Dad described how the Sweet Pea grows tall and straight, and that it's only if and when the plant comes in contact with another flower or plant that it curls round and round that other object. That was the kernel that kicked off the story. Then, shortly after our return from Ireland, my husband built the most amazing wooden dollhouse for our daughter, so that was the second trigger for the story. As for the rest, the characters and ideas flowed right out.

Interestingly, I read the story a few months ago when I was in New York and afterwards one of the audience members said, "You got that white wing idea from Nights of the Circus!" I HAD read and loved Angela Carter's novel, Nights of the Circus, years ago while in college and had entirely forgotten that book and the white wing. So who knows what influences and stays at the subconscious level. There's also of course Gabriel Garcia Marquez's short story, A Very Old Man With Enormous Wings, that I also love and that no doubt helped fuel this story. There are so many books I've read but have largely forgotten. It's heartening to think that we never really forget these stories we read and that the works continue to nourish us long after (we think!) we've left them behind.

That is a heartening thought! Ethel, thank you for taking the time to give us this background information, and for sending me The Stinging Fly, a wonderful literary magazine.  Thanks also to The Reading Life for hosting Irish Short Story Week (now extended through July 1), which has helped me to discover both modern and contemporary Irish authors.

As always, your comments are welcomed.

Really Random Tuesday #44: Edna O'Brien, Ebooks and Quotes

It's been ages since I posted a Really Random Tuesday post! Since I have some book-related news, I thought it was time for a new one.

Open Road, a digital publisher and multimedia content company based in NY, contacted me about the ebook publication of two titles by award-winning Irish author Edna O’Brien, August is a Wicked Month, a novel, and The Love Object, her first collection of short fiction.  Her work revolves around the innermost thoughts and feelings of women,  and their difficulties with men and with society as a whole.  Last year, I reviewed Edna O'Brien's short story, A Journey, for Irish Short Story Week (hosted by Mel from The Reading Life) so I've sampled her short fiction.  I'm eager to read her novel,  August is a Wicked Month, which The New York Times called  “a serious and moving piece of work.”

 

A few quotes from Edna O'Brien:

“Writers are always anxious, always on the run--from the telephone, from responsibilities, from the distractions of the world.”

“When anyone asks me about the Irish character, I say look at the trees. Maimed, stark and misshapen, but ferociously tenacious.” 

"They used to ban my books, but now when I go there, people are courteous to my face, though rather slanderous behind my back. Then again, Ireland has changed. There are a lot of young people who are irreligious, or less religious. Ironically, they wouldn't be interested in my early books - they would think them gauche. They are aping English and American mores. If I went to a dance hall in Dublin now I would feel as alien as in a disco in Oklahoma."
~ Edna O'Brien, Writers at Work, ed. George Plimpton, 1986

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I don't have any book winners to announce, and I'm not hosting any new book giveaways right now, but I have some links to exciting giveaways hosted by other book bloggers on the right side of my blog, so please take a look if you're interested.  To enter these giveaways, simply click on the book covers.

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Appearing on random Tuesdays, Really Random Tuesday is a way to post odds and ends--announcements, musings, quotes, photos--any blogging and book-related things you can think of.  If you're inspired by this idea, feel free to copy the button and use it on your own blog.  For other Really Random Tuesday posts, please visit Naida's blog, the bookworm, and Vivienne's blog, Serendipity Reviews.  Please leave a link in the comments if you’re participating and I'll add it to this post.  Thanks for reading!

In a Café

Why are there so many wonderful Irish women writers?  I read more than a few short stories while contemplating what to post for Irish Short Story Week (which actually runs for about two weeks), hosted by Mel from The Reading Life, many from my book Women & Fiction: Short Stories By and About Women, edited by Susan Cahill.  I read stories by Flannery O'Connor, Carson McCullers, Alice Munro (not Irish), and the author whose story I've chosen to focus on, Mary Lavin.  As I read, I became more and more enthralled by short stories as a genre; I even read some online, which is not my favorite way to read stories (I prefer the intimacy of reading from an actual book, in a chair or in bed).  Mel often credits me for sparking his interest in short stories, but now it's his Irish Short Story challenge that has reinvigorated my interest in them.

Mary Lavin (1912–1996) was an Irish short story writer and novelist.  Her work often featured feminist issues and concerns, and she is considered to be a pioneer.  Born in East Walpole, MA, she moved to Ireland with her family at the age of ten, and later attended Loreto College,  a convent school in Dublin, before studying English and French at University College Dublin (UCD).  In 1943, Mary Lavin married William Walsh, a Dublin lawyer, and also published her first book,  Tales from Bective Bridge, a collection of short stories about life in rural Ireland.  She was widowed in 1954, after she had achieved considerable success as a writer (she received numerous honors and awards), and was left with a farm and three children to take care of.  Although she wrote two long novels, she was partial to short stories, and wished she could break her novels up into short stories.  Mary Lavin felt that it was in the short story that "a writer distills the essence of his (or her) thought",  that the short story "is determined by the writer's own character",  and that short-story writing is "only looking closer than normal into the human heart. . . ."

In a Café by Mary Lavin is a short story about a meeting in a café that highlights her talents as a writer.  Set in Dublin, Ireland, this story begins in a back street café run by two students from the Art College (who often leave the place unattended, to have coffee in a café across the street).  The story is astonishing in its ability to convey the inner life of the main character, Mary, a widow, who's meeting with a recently widowed, younger acquaintance, Maudie.  In this café, while Mary waits nervously for Maudie, she meets and converses briefly with Johann van Stiegler, a young artist (with plump hands that fascinate her, and that are unlike her deceased husband's slender hands). She's surprised and pleased and unsure about Johann's interest in her, all at the same time.  The artist provides the address of his flat (which is also his studio) on a piece of notebook paper,  and invites Mary to come and see his work anytime, although it's Maudie who takes the paper from him and hands it to Mary.  (I will say no more about the plot because I don't want to spoil the story for potential readers.)

This is a remarkable story about two meetings in a café: Mary meets Johann by chance while waiting for Maudie.  A visit to a café may sound like a simple, ordinary occurrence, but the author transforms it into a larger event by presenting the emotional life of the protagonist, Mary, in an uncannily realistic and believable manner.  Mary compares herself to Maudie (who is young and attractive enough to remarry), and feels old and dowdy in comparison--and lonely.  She find herself drawn to the artist, and yet she is also thinking about and remembering her deceased husband, Richard.  Mary Lavin depicts many varied human emotions in this short story through the innermost thoughts of Mary, including love, worry, resentment, guilt, despair, loneliness, and hope.  In a Café is a marvelous example of short fiction by Mary Lavin.  It's somewhat autobiographical in that both the author and the protagonist were widows named Mary who had farms and children to take care of.  I read this story in my book, Women & Fiction, a terrific source of short fiction by women.

Special thanks to Mel from The Reading Life for hosting Irish Short Story Week for the second consecutive year.

A Journey

Travel is frequently a foray into the unknown, at least in part. During a recent short trip to NY, I had to be flexible and go with the flow; in doing so, I experienced the present to a greater extent than I do in my everyday life. When it comes to travel, I'm a planner, and I do think ahead (I was diligent about printing out boarding passes within 24 hours of my departures), but I do not plan every single detail, because freedom and spontaneity are also important parts of travel. Having too rigid of a schedule, in travel (or in life), does not appeal much to me.

In the short story A Journey by Irish author Edna O'Brien (born December 15, 1930, in Twamgraney, County Clare, Ireland), a couple takes a journey together; travel is also a metaphor for the unknown. The main character is a woman who's taking a trip with an attractive man, Boyce (who lives with a woman, Madge, and their baby).

"To venture loving him was like crossing the Rubicon--also daft. Also dicey. A journey of pain. She had no idea then how extensive the journey would be."
~A Journey, Edna O'Brien

The story sensitively highlights the woman's thoughts about the situation; she's quite aware of her precarious position. Boyce wants his travel companion to remain a secret (she is unnamed in the story) as they travel from London to Scotland. Along with the heady excitement of the attraction is a feeling of marked uneasiness; the affair has just started and she questions the man's dedication to her, and to the woman he lives with and their young child as well. Boyce makes it clear that their romance must be kept clandestine, at least for the time being, and offers no promises for the future.

Edna O'Brien realistically portrays a scenario in which a woman's internal monologue expresses the numerous, inherent difficulties of the situation created by her impulsive choices; she is anxious and worries about a future with Boyce which may not be so rosy, which may not even exist. The author captures the angst of this couple, particularly of the woman, and this journey causes her a great deal of insecurity, understandably so. A Journey demonstrates Edna O'Brien's incredible ability to capture the emotions, inner voice, and thoughts of a woman.

I read this short story in the book Women & Fiction: Short Stories by and about Women, edited by Susan Cahill, for Irish Short Story Week, hosted by Mel from The Reading Life. Happy St. Patrick's Day to my readers!